Page 14 of Lost King

"That's my girl."

"Goodnight, Quinn."

"Night, Sunshine."

* * *

The next morning I'm walking into work after dropping Emerson off at the hospital when Jake walks out of his office with a grim expression on his face. "What's up Prez?"

"I want you to go down to Charley's. He just called. Said he had a couple of bikers in there and they were not one of us." His new-found information has me on high alert, and I think back to the incident I had with the fucker who almost ran me off the road. "On it Prez," I say turning on my heel and make my way back out to my bike. "Gabriel is going to meet you there," Jake adds. Gabriel and I arrive at Charley's at the same time. We acknowledge each other with a chin lift as we walk into the bar with the intention of seeing who the hell these motherfuckers are.

Charley steps around the bar when he sees us walk in. "They're gone. High tailed their asses out of here about five minutes ago. They might have suspected something when they saw me on the phone. Anybody who's anybody knows my loyalty lies with The Kings. Any respectable club would know not to show up on another club's territory without proper notice."

"You recognize either one of them?" I ask while Gabriel remains silent as he looks around the bar on high alert.

"No, I never saw them before. They had Satans Reapers cuts on. I will tell you this though, there's trouble there. I felt it in my bones as soon as they strode their asses into my bar."

"Fuck," I curse under my breath. "Alright, Charley. Thanks for lettin' us know. Did you get that feed for us? I'll pass it along to Reid. See what he can dig up."

"Sure do. Here ya go," he says handing me the USB with today's security feed on it.

"You want me to send one of the guys down here to watch over the place?"

"That won't be a necessary, son," he tells me lifting his flannel shirt revealing his piece strapped to his side.

Smirking, I clap Charley on his back. "We'll catch ya later, man. Call us if ya need anything." With that, Gabriel and I make our way back out of the bar and to our bikes. We share a look. A look that says that shit is about to hit the fan here in Polson. These sons of bitches don't know who they are fuckin' with, but they're about to find out.

Chapter Eight

Emerson

I'm standing at my locker in the lounge at work when my phone alerts me to a text. Pulling it from my pocket, I smile, and my stomach is overcome with butterflies when I see who it's from.

Quinn: Miss me?

Me: Maybe.

Quinn: Admit it Sunshine.

Me: Don't flatter yourself.

Quinn: I know that sweet pussy of yours misses me.

I feel my cheeks flush at his last text. He's not wrong. My lady bits start to tingle at the memory of the dirty things Quinn did to my body last night.

Quinn: I'll take your silence as a yes.

Me: Is there something you needed?

Quinn: I want you to come straight to the clubhouse after work. I know your shift ended ten minutes ago. I'll see you in fifteen.

Me: What if I had plans?

Quinn: You do. With my cock.

Me: On my way.

Giggling to myself, I shove my phone back in my pocket. No way am I going argue with that because let's face it. He's not wrong. Opening my locker, I take the large manila envelope my brother had delivered to me earlier and place it in my bag. Then I slip my lab coat off, but when I go to place it on the hanger my mind drifts back to what Quinn requested last night, and with a grin, I fold it and put it in my bag as well.