Chapter 61
Chapter
Sixty-One
The next couple of days, we seem to spend a lot of time on a bike. We ride sometimes, we spend a lot of times fucking too but all good things came to a temporary end with the long-awaited arrival of Margaret/Marnie.
With her return came some much needed answers. Margaret and Mary are/were sisters like I remembered. Their club names are nick-names derived from their English heritage. The name thing was easy. With physical coercion Maverick got Margaret to confess that Mary had been drinking with a woman named Lizzy at the Death Riders’ compound. After the woman passed out, Mary tossed her room, stole anything she could, including the cut which had been her partner’s who had died. Apparently, he was an asshole who beat on Lizzy, but still it was fucking low to rob a widow. Margaret though was the one who paid two random street thugs to wear the Riders cut and beat me up at the hotel.
Because that’s where it fucking started. Margaret had been travelling with the Fallen for the Southern Sector catch up. She was meant to stay in the bus and wait while King caught up with Raney, but she’d snuck inside and watched me with him.
Her explanation was so fucking simple, she really believed King would one day admit he wanted her again. It blows my head at the length she went to make it happen though. The bitch would not say what she did with King’s ring though.
Attendance at Margaret’s ‘trial’ was voluntary. There was standing room only, Club Sluts banded together in a show of support—of King and The Fallen. But it was all of the Fallen because Ace brought the entire Southern Chapter with him in a very loud and grand gesture of support.
And all the bruises on Margaret’s body were not caused by my Alphas or any of the men present. They were a send-off from the girls because she fucked them over, ruining their good life because she couldn’t get over the fact that King spent one night with her and never wanted her again.
It’s a solid reminder that while men are direct in their threats and violence, you should never discount some women who are equally dangerous in their delusions. Frighteningly so.
My heels clip sharply over the hardwood floor, towards my Alpha. I’m feeling more comfortable now in the presence of The Fallen and I’m so fucking proud of the sense of community King has built.
“Hey, King, sorry I’m late,” I speak loud enough so my voice carries right down past the pool tables, right out to where the prospects are standing guard.
King’s eyes narrow, and his top lip curls up. That’s in warning for every person in attendance as my little black dress is heavy on ‘little’, but Maverick and I were out inspecting offices, haggling with agents, and I wasn’t going to miss this for the world. Plus, you know the strapless top meant King’s name seemed to blink like a neon sign on my skin.
I stop in front of him, leaning up on my tippy toes for a kiss. “How’d you go, killer?”
“Good. Let’s hurry this along. I need you to tell me which one you like best. I want to sign a contract tomorrow before we fly out.”
“Enough said.” He winks. “Steel, you with me?”
Steel hops off a stool at the bar, his shirt covered in spray paint. My guy is still getting used to having to work with a different type of gun. Joker keeps us entertained with daily rundowns of how Steel did in the paint-booth, some days he resembles a walking freckle. The paint all over him is not the only thing I notice. As he saunters closer, his butterscotch scent is extra rich and gooey right now. Clearly Steel likes this dress. Or it might be these heels, we’ve had a lot of fun while I’ve been wearing them recently.
“You better be wearing panties, Trissy,” he growls as he bites my neck. At the same time, his leg kicks out frighteningly fast, sending the awful chair I was tied to, the one Margaret is currently tied to, slamming backwards.
I feel a flash of guilt, acting so flippantly when the woman who attacked me is probably absolutely terrified. Because I was, when I was in her exact position. But the big difference between me and her is she made the choice to be an A-grade asshole. She made a conscious decision to get rid of me, selling me to a monster, so again I have no problem acting the way I am.
“Wait until I’m back with Tyson and Mav?” I ask.
“You line up the shots,” King suggests.
Both he and Steel watch me go. God, I can feel their attention all over me.
I give Momma Cass a quick smile and pick up the bottle of bourbon. She’s already got trays ready and waiting to serve for everyone here, but the last five shot glasses are mine to fill. Because I’m still having issues letting people serve my Alphas.
There’s no further preamble, or warning, nothing at all except for the deafening blast of King’s gun. Followed by another two shots. I think because Margaret was so slippery before King and Steel are not taking any chances, sending her straight to hell with one in the head, and two in the chest.
C’est la vie.