Page 20 of Strength from Loyalty (Lost Kings MC 3)

  Carla pulls a chair over next to me.

  Why me?

  “Hi—Hope, right?”

  My mouth twitches up into a nervous smile and I nod.

  “Sorry we didn’t get to talk much last night.”

  As if I spent the day worrying about it. “No problem.”

  Tawny snorts. “Don’t press your luck, Carla.”

  “So have you guys set a date yet?” she asks.

  Jeez. Are we really doing this? “Not yet.”

  “You been married before?”

  Pain pierces my heart and must show on my face. Tawny settles her hand on my leg.

  “Yes. I was.” Then I rush to amend. “I’m a widow. It’s—”

  Next to me, Tawny sucks in a deep breath. “Shit, Hope.”

  Carla hasn’t said anything. She just continues watching, waiting for me to finish.

  “It’s been awhile. Well, not really, almost two years, but—” I babble like an idiot, completely uncomfortable revealing so much of myself to complete strangers.

  “Was he an outlaw too?” Carla asks.

  The tone she uses is neutral, but my skin still prickles. An image of Clay—neat, buttoned-down shirts and pressed khakis—flashes in my mind. “No, he was an engineer,” I answer with a sad smile.

  Carla sneers at me. “So how the hell did you and my ex-husband meet?”

  The possessive way she talks about my man ticks me off so much I’m slow with a response. By the time I open my mouth to answer, Tawny beats me to it. “She’s a lawyer and she represented him in court.”

  Carla has the nerve to roll her eyes. “Oh yeah. Let me guess—he got himself arrested.”

  My jaw clenches, but I’m not sure what to say to that. Because it’s the truth.

  Tawny jumps up and jabs her finger in Carla’s direction. “You shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare disrespect one of the brothers under my roof. You know damn well what you’re in for when you marry into the club. You’re supposed stand by your man, not stab him in the back.”

  Carla is a brave soul—or feels Barry has enough juice to protect her from Tawny. She stands and takes a step back but unfortunately doesn’t keep her mouth shut. “I was twenty-two years old. He could have gone in forever. I was supposed to just sit around and pray he got out?” Then she turns to me. “Do you actually understand what you’re in for?”

  “I know I love Rock, and I wouldn’t try to fuck his friends while he was going through a difficult time,” I answer evenly.

  Tawny settles her hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle squeeze. I choose to interpret it as an “I’m proud of you” gesture.

  Carla stares daggers at me. “Well, that’s precious. You know he—”

  “Don’t say another fuckin’ word to her, Carla,” Tawny warns.

  “She doesn’t know, does she?” Carla asks with a smirk.

  I assume she’s talking about the three-ways with Wrath.

  “How’s his best friend?” she sneers.

  Yup. Wrath.

  “Wrath? He’s laid up with a broken leg so he’s a little crankier than usual,” I answer calmly.

  Carla’s jaw drops a bit. “He doesn’t share you, does he?”

  “No. And before you decide to educate me, he already told me.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he did.”

  Tawny takes another step toward Carla. “Don’t you fucking dare. I can’t count how many times I caught your whoring ass going after one of the guys. You were doing that shit well before Rock went inside.”

  “Carla,” Barry calls from the hallway, “I could use your help.”

  Carla stares at me for a second before following him.

  After she’s gone, I shake my head and sit back down.

  “Sorry, Hope,” Tawny says, and she does actually seem sorry.

  “Oh, I’m used to dealing with Rock’s exes by now,” I joke with a wave of my hand. I’m not really in a joking mood, so it sounds pitiful.

  I don’t want to deal with any of this. Their history is so ancient it should be buried and they should both move the fuck on. But Carla seems content playing victim.

  Tawny twists her wrist to look at her watch. “I’ll be right back, Hope.”

  She’s gone for a while. I’m tired and want to go to bed, but I don’t want to be rude either.

  The blonde Murphy spent time with last night saunters into the lobby. She approaches me slowly. “Hope, right?” she asks.

  She’s a pretty girl. Like stunning pretty. Tall, willowy figure, long Barbie legs, thick, flowing blond hair, cute-as-a-button face. Why she spends her time servicing guys here instead of modeling in New York or something I can’t fathom.

  She points to the spot Tawny just vacated. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  I don’t, so I tell her to go ahead.

  She turns and gestures at my phone, which I’m clutching in my hands. “Have you heard from any of the guys?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Oh.”

  We’re silent for a while before she braves another question. “Did Rock patch you recently?”

  My mouth automatically curves into a smile, remembering the afternoon. “Yes.”

  “Was it a surprise?”

  “Kind of. He explained it to me first. So I wouldn’t be offended, I think,” I add.

  She tilts her head at me like she’s trying to make sense of that.

  “Why would you be offended?”

  “I, uh, didn’t know much about this—” I wave my hands in the air. “Before I met Rock.”

  She still seems confused, but she laughs. “If I could get one of the brothers to patch me, I’d never take it off.”

  This strikes me as really sad, especially because from what I’ve been able to gather, the more brothers you sleep with, the less likely it is one will make you his ol’ lady. I keep this to myself, though, and end up smiling awkwardly instead.

  “What do you do, Serena?”

  “Um, I tend bar and I’m taking a few classes at the community college. I was thinking of transferring up to Hudson Valley…”

  That’s in our area. If she’s trying to hint that I should put in a good word for her with Murphy, I’m afraid she’s out of luck. “They have a lot of good programs.” I nod.

  “Um, does Murphy have any regular girls at your place?”

  Well, at least she’s smart enough to know subtlety won’t work with me. “I honestly don’t know, Serena. I don’t really pay attention.”

  And it’s true. I only know about Wrath and Trinity’s… whatever the hell they’re doing, because, well, how could I not? Z, I only know about because he’s had some weird on-again, off-again thing with one of my friends. Sure, I’ve accidentally seen plenty of things that required a good dose of brain bleach, but I try not to dwell on any of it. I don’t mention Heidi because she’s a kid, and I don’t know what the hell’s going on there either. I had a perfect opportunity alone with Murphy this morning to say something, but I was so damn flustered I let it slip.

  “I don’t blame you,” she says with a laugh.

  “How long have you been hanging out here?”

  “‘Bout a year or two. I was trying to model down in the city, but it was too expensive to live on what I was making—”

  My brain-to-mouth filter is obviously on the fritz, because I let out a snort. Her face turns down as if I insulted her, and I feel bad. Reaching out, I gently pat her leg. “Sorry. It’s just when I first saw you, I thought you must be a model or actress or something.”

  That seems to cheer her up. She sits up a little straighter and grins at me. “Oh. Thanks. Yeah. I got a few commercials. But it’s so competitive. And you have to live with like fifteen people in tiny little shitbox apartments to survive. I was seeing a guy down there in another club, came up here with him for a party, and just decided to stick around.”

  City living has never appealed to me for the exact reasons she just listed. “I can understand that.”

  “Are you re

ally a lawyer?”

  I chuckle before answering. “Yeah.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Not really.”

  She nods, and I’m surprised with myself for admitting it, especially to a stranger.

  “Isn’t there a lonely cock somewhere you should be servicing?” Tawny snaps when she returns to find Serena in her seat.

  Poor Serena jumps up like she’s been stung. “Bye, Hope. Nice talking to you.” And she scurries off without another word.

  Tawny shakes her head and makes a big show of dusting off the couch cushion Serena just vacated. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “No problem. She seems like a sweet girl.”

  Tawny raises a thinly penciled-on eyebrow. “Yeah, sweet until you find her sucking your man’s dick.”

  Well. Wow. I don’t know what to say to that. “Your man?” Crap, why did I have to say that.

  Tawny smirks. “Don’t worry. I get mine.”

  Yuck. I’ve overheard the words loyalty and brotherhood multiple times this weekend, yet none of these guys seem to stay loyal to their wives.

  Despite all the women from his past I’ve had to confront, I’ve never worried about Rock cheating on me. Does that make me gullible… or loyal?

  Z, Murphy, and I ride with Sway, so we’re not able to talk much. They each gave me an affirmative nod before getting in the truck. We’re an ominous caravan of bikes, two heavy-duty four-wheel-drive trucks, and one van. Seems like a lot for a job that’s supposed to be so simple.

  “Two of my guys are down because of these fucks. We see any of them, leave them to me.”

  I’m still not buying the story, but I give him the answer he’s looking for anyway. “No problem.”

  At the end of a long dirt driveway, we all stop. The guys on bikes get off and hop in the back of our truck. Two guys stay behind, while the rest of us take the long, slow drive up to the barn.

  There’s no house that I can see. Just a massive old barn looming up ahead. Lots of trees. Too many fucking trees for my taste. Too many places for people to wait in ambush.

  I’m really hating this shit.

  Sway tucks the truck up tight against the barn. Personally, I would have parked it pointed toward the escape route, but that’s just me.

  At least the rest of the guys do a perimeter sweep of the trees and circle around the building. Sway’s men aren’t completely useless. After getting out and taking a look around, Sway takes a pair of bolt cutters to the heavy padlock on the front door.

  Inside smells like the shit of a thousand horses, and I choke back a coughing fit. Z’s got his nose buried in his shirt collar, and Murphy gags.

  “Fuck me, that’s disgusting,” Sway says, also holding his shirt over his nose.

  It’s nothing but a dark abyss inside until guys start pulling out cell phones and flashlights. I pull out my own penlight, and we get to work.

  Suddenly, it’s very clear why we needed so many vehicles for this job.

  There’s not three crates of weapons. There’s about thirty.

  “Guess we’re not the only ones they been jacking,” Sway notes.

  Great.

  “Find our supply first. Then we’ll split up everything else.”

  The air fills with the sound of metal on wood as crates are busted open.

  Z shrugs and steps back to the door to keep watch. Murphy looks to me for direction, and I give him a chin lift to let him know he’s fine where he is.

  “What are we looking for, Sway?”

  “Twenty-five LWRC IC-PDWs.”

  Christ, he wasn’t kidding about high-end. Or highly illegal. Those types of ultra-compact personal defense weapons are most definitely banned in New York. Again, I wonder where the hell they got jacked.

  “Also looking for crates of Ranier uppers.”

  “No lowers,” I joke. What the fuck is he planning to build with uppers and nothing else?

  “Not this drop.”

  Fucking hell. With a nod to Murphy, we join the others in busting open crates, searching through shit. Some of the weapons are in cases inside the crates; others are not.

  On my fourth crate, I think I’ve got something. “Sway,” I call.

  He jogs over, and with one glance inside the box, his face breaks into a grin. “Fuckin’ A, that’s our shit.” He slaps me on the back and runs over to confer with his sergeant-at-arms. Next, they’re throwing open the big barn doors and backing his truck inside. We get the crate I found and three others loaded into Sway’s truck and covered with a tarp.

  “Take whatever else you can. Then let’s burn this mother to the ground,” Sway announces to the group.

  Awesome—guess we’re adding arson to tonight’s list of felonies.

  Murphy cracks open a crate of ammo, something that’s also hard to come by in New York these days. “Grab that,” I tell him.

  Z motions me over to three cases. Inside each one is a foliage-green Noveske Johnny Rifle. “Wrath will shit himself.” Z snickers.

  “Grab ‘em.”

  The grab-and-go party seems to be winding down. There’s not another inch of available space in any of the vehicles.

  “They don’t got no surveillance on this place?” Z asks. Because that’s his specialty, naturally he notices.

  “We had it taken care of earlier,” Sway answers.

  Oh, how comforting.

  The shot that rings out is also not comforting.

  Pulling my piece, I crouch down. Don’t even have to say a word—Murphy and Z have done the same.

  “Prez, tha fuck?” Z whispers.

  I shake my head, silencing him.

  Sway crab-walks over to me and puts up two fingers. Whether he’s telling me there’s two shooters or he wants me to do something in two seconds I have no fuckin’ clue.

  The stench of gasoline is thick in the air.

  There’s a struggle and shouting from the side of the building.

  “Prez! Clear!” one of Sway’s guys shouts.

  Still have a bad feeling about this. “Stay down,” I mouth to Z.

  Another shot blows through the night. Someone’s window shatters.

  Not so clear after all.

  “Fuck!” Sway shouts from somewhere around the van.

  “Keys?” I ask Murphy. He shrugs and points toward the direction Sway went.

  Fuckin’ great.

  Tawny’s phone buzzes. She glances at me and leaves the room without a word.

  That’s not reassuring.

  Then Carla returns.

  Fantastic.

  “Had to help Barry with one of his patients,” she explains, as if I give a crap.

  Except… wait, what?

  My question must be written all over my face.

  “He’s the club’s doctor.”

  “That must be awkward for you,” I retort with a bit of snark.

  She curls her lips into a nasty smirk. “At least I don’t worry about him going to prison all the time.”

  “Yeah, because treating outlaws off the books is risk-free.”

  That shuts her up, but not long enough for my taste.

  “So you don’t mind all the strippers and club whores?” she asks.

  I cock my head to the side and pin her with a fierce stare. “I trust Rock.”

  She snorts. “God help you.”

  “You realize it’s been years since you two were together, right? You don’t know anything about him anymore.”

  Her mouth opens and closes. “You’re probably right,” she finally says. Her eyes dart to the space behind me before she opens her mouth again. The confrontational bitch face she had on has softened. “I felt safe with him.”

  I’m intimately acquainted with that feeling.

  “I never had that before. When he got arrested, I was terrified. Fucking Tawny and those other bitches… Well, I guess they’re made of stronger stuff.”

  Her words are like a fist in my gut. I know damn well I’m not as tough as Tawny. But I also know

I don’t have it in me to do what Carla did. My gaze drops to my hands twisting together in my lap.

  “I was happy he got out as quick as he did. But I knew I couldn’t go back. Rock’s not big on forgiveness.”

  I don’t think I’d be real forgiving either.

  “You got friends outside the club, Hope?”

  “Of course.”

  “Hang on to them. You and Rock ever part ways, the club pretty much shuns you.”

  “You deserted your husband at one of the worst possible times. What did you think they were going to do for you, Carla? Hold your hand and bake you cookies?”

  Before she answers, her husband interrupts. “I’m going to need your assistance. Something happened. They’re bringing one of the guys back now.”

  I shoot up off the couch. “What? Who?”

  Barry’s startled gaze flicks over me.

  “Hope,” Tawny calls. “Rock’s fine.”

  I didn’t even notice her standing behind him.

  Axel wanders in and raises an eyebrow at me.

  Tawny nods. “Go on, honey. The guys should be back soon.”

  I’m exhausted. But also worried. Clearly, Tawny wanted me out of the way for some reason.

  As soon as we’re alone, I ask Axel what he knows.

  “Nothing. They wouldn’t tell me stuff like that.”

  Guilt prods me into another line of questioning. “Are you going to find a bed to sleep in tonight, Axel?”

  He stops and turns to me, obviously shocked. “I wouldn’t cheat on Heidi.”

  “That’s not how I meant it, sorry.”

  “Oh, okay. I just don’t want you thinking I’m like the rest of them. Heidi’s special. I wouldn’t screw that up.”

  I’m not sure what he means by “the rest of them,” since none of the other guys have girlfriends that I know of. Unless he means sticking their dicks in anything with boobs and a pulse. Because, yeah, that seems to be the way a lot of the brothers operate.

  “I know. You’re a good guy, Axel.”

  He brightens at the compliment. “Thanks. Are you okay for the night? Need anything from the kitchen?”

  “I’m all set. Thank you.”

  “Okay. I got my phone on, so if you need anything, just text me, okay?”