Instantly she puts up a fight, struggling, trying to push me away, but I tighten my arm around her waist and hold her against my chest.
“Let me go, asshole.” Her little ass wiggles on my dick, and I grit my teeth.
“Sit. Still.” I flex my hips so she can feel the bulge.
Her body goes completely still. In slow motion, she turns her head and glares.
“Told you, Troublemaker,” I smirk. “Keep fighting me. It makes my dick hard.”
“Jesus.” With an arm around Foxy’s waist, Tacoma leans back in his chair and glares at Frankie.
My girl starts to squirm, refusing to meet his stare. She looks everywhere but at him—at the table, the floor, the Kings emblem on the wall behind the prospects.
“Look at me,” he finally demands.
Slowly, reluctantly, she shifts her eyes to his.
“You know who I am?” He lifts a brow.
Frankie swallows hard. “Tacoma. President of the Kings of Anarchy.”
My brother grunts. “You fucked up stealing from us. Nobody fucks with the Kings,” he says in a deadly calm voice. “You know that, right?”
Surprising the fuck out of me, my girl squares her shoulders and leans in when she hisses, “No, asshole. You fucked up when you killed my dad.”
I tighten my arm around her waist, keeping her pinned against me when she tries to stand. “Easy, killer.”
Tacoma arches a brow, his eyes flicking to me. “What the fuck is she talking about?”
I rub at the back of my neck. Who her daddy is, is something I hadn’t been expecting. “She’s Camden’s kid.”
Foxy shrinks against my brother. No doubt this news is difficult for her to hear, especially since she came to Odin a few weeks ago solely to cover up Tom Camden’s murder. The Mayor. Frankie’s father.
Tacoma tightens his hold on his woman, but his expression doesn’t change. “We had nothing to do with your father’s disappearance.”
“Death,” Frankie corrects, her voice breaking. “Not disappearance. Death.”
“Last I heard,” Tacoma says carefully, “Tom ran off with his secretary.”
I have to give my brother credit. The lie sounds convincing. It’s a good thing we paid Tom’s secretary cash to get the hell out of town and keep her mouth shut.
Frankie’s body trembles in my lap. “That’s bullshit. He wouldn’t leave without telling me.”
“You sure about that kid?” Bash asks from across the table.
The tension in her shoulders shifts, and I can feel her uncertainty. She has her doubts.
“No,” she whispers, her voice sounding so broken my chest aches. “I’m not sure. We weren’t close, but I thought…” Her voice trails off.
And there it is.
The truth that changes everything.
This girl didn’t steal from me because she’s a criminal. She didn’t do it for the money or some insane thrill. She did it because she was trying to prove something. Because she thought the Kings offed her pops.
Fuck.
Leaning to the side, I lift my pant leg and pull out my boot knife. Frankie sees it and flinches, but I slice through the restraints on her wrists before she misreads my intentions.
