I lock my jaw so hard I taste blood. I want to scream at Rex’s face he got it wrong and that King is mine, because I know that like I know my own name. But I won’t give him anything else.
“Maybe it wasn’t the sluts being gold diggers, maybe it was King being a cunt all along. He probably asked them to deal with you because he couldn’t be fucking bothered,” he says coming in so near I have no choice but to breathe in his scent. I cough trying not to throw up. “Chicks always end up fucking imagining they’re the one. You’re guilty of that aren’t ya?”
He smirks, and it’s awful to see but like always Rex has more to say.
“I raised Steel to fight for ya, but he might need reminding ’bout now.”
Rex moves intentionally slow, except it’s part of how he likes to remind me I’m his prisoner and he can do whatever he pleases. And usually, it’s just a threat, a slap or a promise but he leans closer, slower to make me suffer more. His eyes fill with satisfaction as I break and whimper for him to let me go, as his fingers tighten around my throat.
There was a part of me who was whispering just get through this, you can do it. I thought he’d take me to a point of submission to remind me he’s in control, but he takes it further.
I’m alone when I wake up. The cold seeping in my bones is proof I’m alive. It’s easy to figure out I’m still alive and I don’t even freak out knowing he tried to kill me. I freak out when I realise I’m naked from the waist up and Steel’s name is written over my sternum, bruises on my breasts.
The world tilts as I tap out.
Chapter
Fifty-One
KING
Cracking my neck, I sit on the edge of the stripper stage looking around at the carnage before I look back at one of Rex’s men.
The Death Riders were expecting a visit from me, and they got one.
“King,” Joker flicks his head.
Joker is a stubborn cunt who shouldn’t be here. He can barely stand without holding on to something but he refuses to back off for a minute. My eyes track over his frame, aside from a cut lip and a cherry red outline of someone’s knuckles on his cheek he looks half dead but still ready to go to war for me. And despite the rage at being drawn into Rex’s fucking games, I feel better seeing Joker okay; he might be my second in charge but he’s also one of my oldest friends.
I stand up, my foot kicking out, sending the fucker I’ve been interrogating sprawling backwards. This Rider is barely fucking conscious, and since he’s already sung like a canary, he’s of no use. I line up the shot, but Maverick bends down and twists his neck before I can fire the gun. The angry bastard storms off without a backwards glance walking further into the other part of the clubhouse.
But I don’t leave things to chance anymore. I fire off a couple of rounds—one in the head and two in the heart, watching his blood and brain matter flow to join the ponding of the others. The other members of the Riders who were interrogated in similar fashion met the same fate this one did. It’s eye for an eye in this world and I have no regret sending these cunts to their maker.
Stepping onto a clear patch of floor, I make my way over to Joker who’s sipping on a lemonade behind the bar. He’s even got a pack of crisps open on the counter, like he’s having a fucking party.
“We found Steel,” he says once I’m close enough.
Not that there’s any ears left in here, we’ve either removed them or killed whoever owned them. I’m not here playing around; my message is loud and clear—mess with the Fallen and we will make you pay. Mess with mine and I will make you suffer.
“Bad?”
Joker shrugs without answering, meaning ‘bad’ is open to interpretation. Considering I know him, and his strange definitions, I take it to mean he’s alive.
“Where was he?” I ask, washing my hands in the sink, accepting the towel he throws my way.
“A barn three hours from here. I sent the address to your phone.” Joker finishes his drink and starts walking off in the direction of his bike as an alert hits my phone.
“Joker, I got no issue if you come out with me, but I see your wound bleeding. I will stab you bad enough to send your ass back to surgery. Or… you could do me a solid and go home and be my second like what’s expected.”
He twists around, and grunts. “I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Nah you don’t. I told you to fuck off what, thirty years ago now?” I laugh. Relieved he’s going back to our compound. “You’ve done enough, and we’re only getting started.”
The both of us know I’ve pulled the pin on relations between The Fallen and The Death Riders, and any or all of their associates. And like all good MC rivalries it’s gonna be years until we see the end of reprisals and hit backs.
He shrugs, being a stubborn prick as always. “I’ll ride out slowly, take my time and see if we can find any other rats hiding about.”
I level a glare at him, daring him to argue with me. “The rest can clean up here, and then meet you at the first stop.”
