Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
LOCH
The moment Charleston is a hundred miles behind us, I exhale.
And the next time I see one of my brothers—I don’t care which one—I’m punching him just because.
Because this is a mountain of bullshit I’m not in the mood to hike.
No, I’m too busy lying to the woman I love, my future wife. And keeping her alive.
That whole Seattle story about my brothers? Bullshit. Axel, having a son in NICU? Bullshit. Thankfully. My mom, scalding herself with coffee? It happened years ago, but it’s bullshit now.
At least I use my family’s real names with Alena. I have to. There are too many damn lies to track otherwise.
And don’t get me started on what I’m going to do for our wedding.
If Nash would just let me tell Alena that we’re burned. That one of the crazed traffickers we’re after knows who we are—well, who Nash is—then I wouldn’t have to lie to Alena. She’d know the danger we’re in.
Nash’s house isn’t safe now. They know where he lives. They’re chasing him. He inadvertently had Vale with him, and now they’re hiding out. All the kings and queens are on high alert because we’re being hunted.
So my hot night in Atlanta with Alena is turning into two.
All the while, she’s excited.
Like wet-pussy excited.
And what man in his right mind kills that kink for his woman?
“So where are we staying tonight?” Alena curls up in the passenger seat of my truck while I check the rearview mirror, clocking the black Tahoe.
Yep, Grant and Delphine are two cars behind us. I texted them minutes after Nash called.
“The Mercier Atlanta.” I reach over, rubbing her thigh, trying to rekindle the excitement I had for our night. “Got us a suite for two nights.”
“But do you trust this club? Like, I know Nadine’s club is secure. They don’t let creeps in. Well…” She recalls the one I choked at the bar. “They don’t let them stay. But what if some creep tries to—”
“It’s secure.” I check my speed. “You know I’ll always protect you.”
Lie. I’m your greatest risk. Hang on. No, it’s your dad.
But I don’t want Alena to hate him either. Nash is finally speaking to me in complete sentences again.
“Remember when I FaceTimed you from there? You know, from my friend Sire’s party?” I ask, needing to be honest with her whenever I can.
“You mean, when Sire was having his triple X-rated co-ed bachelor party?”
Whoops. I know that tone. It’s got kitten claws in it.
“Babygirl.” I grin, quickly glancing at her. “You know I love you. I’ll never cheat on you, and I didn’t lie about where I went that night. I was jerking off for you and no one else.”
“I know.” she sighs. “And it was hot how you let me watch you get some on your lips, but I’m getting jealous.”
No, I’m getting hard.
My DirtTGirl loves watching me shoot into my mouth for her, but I stay on track. “You’re jealous?”
“Yeah.” She exhales. “Not mad jealous. Like, I missed out jealous. Pastor Rutledge’s wife was there, right? At the Atlanta club? He had his party with her?”
Oh.
Shit.
How do I answer because:
One, Alena doesn’t know Sire’s my brother.
Two, and Wren’s his new queen. Three, we never talk about our queens or disclose what we do for them.
Four, it wasn’t a bachelor party; it was Wren’s test with the kings to see if she could handle an initiation.
Five, I never fucked Wren; I used a vibrator on her so she’d open for Sire’s dick in her ass.
Sire admires @LuvPounder like he doesn’t live up to his name too.
Six, I’m a gentleman; I don’t Dom and tell.
Seven, besides, Nash was there; he’d love an excuse to kill me.
And a million times…
I’ll die before I’d ever be unfaithful to Alena.
I only love her, fuck her, want her; I swear.
It’s why I called her from Wren’s test. Why I told her I was at a bachelor party in an Atlanta sex club, but didn’t let her see it. I only wanted to see Alena’s face. Yes, I was aroused, and I needed Alena.
I always do.
And this is part of my massive mafia problem. Why I want Alena to be initiated as MY queen somehow. She can’t trust the bond the kings have with our queens until she feels it.
Yet, it’s one of the many things I can’t tell her.
Cue my frustration to MAX level now.
Why? Because Alena loves it when I Pleasure Dom her and others online. Particularly, my male fans. With my female fans, Alena’s secure. I’ve proven I belong to her, and she loves showing them how much.
So somewhere between my devotion to Alena and me fulfilling her fantasies—okay, mine too—while not getting murdered by Nash or one of our enemies, resides a happy, hot, normal life I’m trying to build for us.
For as long as it lasts.
“Yes,” I answer her. “Sire had a co-ed bachelor party, but respectfully, I shouldn’t say who all was there.” Like your father.
“So,” she lilts, “Sire’s wife was there?”
Everyone in Charleston knows Pastor Sire Rutledge broke convention and married his very young, badass parishioner, Wren Chapel.
That’s not a lie.
Everything else?
I drum the steering wheel.
“Okay,” she says. “I know you’d never cheat on me, and I trust your honesty, and love our kinks. So, I don’t understand why we’re going to the club tomorrow, when you didn’t take me with you last time.”
Fuck my life: it’s a daily grind, fighting for the truth and fearing the lies.
“I didn’t take you with me because, yes, it was triple X-rated, and Sire is your pastor.”
She blurts out, “No, he’s hot.”
“Oh? Does Pastor Rutledge know that you think he’s attractive?”
And am I suddenly testing the waters here? Yeah.
On an ice cube’s chance in hell, what if Alena doesn’t hate me? If she finds out about my family and forgives my lies, how comfortable would she be on her throne, surrounded by the kings and queens?
Sure, my brothers have protected her like a princess, but she’ll be my queen. And she deserves to be respected like one. Loved like one. Bonded like one.
Obviously, when Nash isn’t there.
Because I can see it, I know how powerful Alena can be.
The proof?
She laughs. “Uh, Pastor Rutledge has a mirror. I’m sure he knows panties spontaneously combust in his church.
And you and I…”—she turns my way—“we know who we are: LuvPounder and DirtTGirl; Loch and Alena. We share everything, and I want us to be like Sire and his wife. Proud of our love, of our kinks. As long as we’re happy, who cares? ”
Fuck, woman, you’re perfect for me.
And fuck, you’re killing me.
For months, I’ve been hiding our missions from Alena. How the kings are targeting three trafficking rings, and how we rescued Wren from one.
I’ve been secretly working with Wren because she’s from the Tennessee mountains; she has solid intel.
Somehow, it’s all connected—Alena, Wren, Sasha, my father—I’m just not sure how.
But whenever I can, I tell Alena the truth.
I should keep a fucking list.
I suspect I’ll need it.
“So,” I venture, “you’d be okay around Sire and his wife? Her name is Wren, by the way. And theoretically, if you see them doing DPs in a sex club, you’d be fine?”
She gasps, “Fine?”
“I just watched them. I swear. Uh…” Shit. “Theoretically, that is.”
“Loch, I’m not mad. I meant it sounds hot.” She laughs. “We literally met online because of our kinks. Remember? You don’t have to hide anything from me; I’ll always love you.”
I’m counting on it, Babygirl.
Though I ask aloud, “But isn’t Pastor Rutledge also friends with your dad?”
“Yep.” She pops her lips. “My dad wants him to marry us.”
Yeah, that’s part of Nash’s plan and the mountain of bullshit; how Nash can have all the kings and queens at our wedding without Alena knowing who they really are.
Me? That’s his circus and monkeys. I just want Alena.
“So, how do you feel about that?” I ask. “Sire marrying us?”
She shrugs. “My dad has lots of hot, tatted friends. I’m used to it.”
“Maybe you should introduce one to your bestie, Vale. She seemed lonely tonight.”
No, Vale left with Nash tonight. And with his secret twitch in his dick for Vale?
I don’t want to hurt Nash—sure, we fight and still love each other—but this bullshit will become a shit show if Nash and Vale drop a match on the bonfire of sexual tension between them.
It could burn Alena’s friendship with Vale to the ground, and I’d never leave my Babygirl in the ashes.
Who would she have if she lost Vale and me?
“She did seem down.” Alena sighs. “I keep trying to get Vale to smash with that bouncer at Delta’s, you know, where she works.”
“Which one?”
“The one who looks like Reacher. The hot big one. Not little Tom Cruise.”
I laugh. Grant and Jace get that all the time. Guess I can see it. They’re not twins, but they have that whole hot and imposing look going. Shit, guess we all do.
But I play dumb. “Aren’t there two security guys at Delta’s?”
And what does Alena think about my brothers? Could she feel at home with all of the kings? Could she fit in instead of always being left out? Like me?
“Yeah,” she chirps. “Vale said one’s married to a French blonde bombshell, so his heart is taken, but the other one, Jace? He’s in love with a married woman.”
He is?
Jace, you big, sad fucker. No wonder you’ve been heartbroken.
And the bombshell? That’s Delphine. And she and Grant are very available and helping me with Alena tomorrow night. I need people I can trust.
“And you want one of those Reacher guys to smash with Vale?”
“Not the married one, though Vale’s a unicorn or whatever,” Alena rambles. “But Vale and Jace? I don’t know. There’s something between them.”
Yeah, it’s called Nash—her father.
“So if not them, which friend of your dad’s is left for Vale?”
“Mmm.” Her tone drops. “Guess my godfather, Michael, but…”
“But…?”
Suddenly, I’m more than curious. I’m painfully aware how overprotective Axel is of Alena, but how does she feel about him?
“One, I think Michael’s in love with his paralegal, and two, Vale’s not his type,” she answers innocently, not even knowing Axel’s name. “Or maybe it’s the other way around. Either way, they’d clash like a lion and a tiger. Bloody with one predator left standing.”
I huff, amused. “Are you saying your godfather’s a dick?”
“Not to me,” she dismisses. “He’s always sweet to me.”
Are we talking about the same man? Axel, a.k.a.: Michael? My big brother, our head king? The man who literally pours salt in the wounds of evil men?
“He’s sweet to you? How?”
Shit, that sounded jealous.
“Sort of. I mean…” and she heard it. “I trust Michael. He’d never hurt me. He’d do anything for me, but that’s his role, right? To help me—nothing more.”
Maybe I’m jealous because I wish Axel would go easy on me. Or maybe it’s because it sounds like he and Alena are closer than I thought. Maybe that explains why he’s so protective of her.
Silence and a country song fill the air. An odd tension twists my heart. I’ve dug us into a conversational hole and can’t get us out.
I don’t want to risk asking Alena more questions about my brothers. I can already imagine the betrayal she’ll feel when she finds out about them. The tears in her stunning eyes when she realizes my lies.
It makes mine glisten, hating to hurt her.
Guilt, a cement block in my chest.
Fury about our situation, a fire in my soul.
I thought I was making the past ten months perfect for Alena’s sake, and I was. I live to see her smile.
But it was also for me.
I’ll need the memory of the most romantic year of my life before I lose it all. Before I lose her.
Because I can fucking promise I’ll never love another woman.
I’m like Maxim. I love a woman so much, I’ll sacrifice. I’ll lose her, hoping she’ll live with our memories. Hoping once Alena stops hating me, she’ll look at the mountains and smile, knowing she was loved.
By the one man born to love her.
Only her and she deserved it.
Checking my side-view mirror, I hide my shimmering eyes, clocking Grant’s tail, and now Wilder tailing him on his Harley. A covert convoy on our way to Atlanta.
“Hey.” Alena reaches for my leg this time. “You okay?”
I blink back the pain, choking on guilt. “Ahem. Yeah, I’m good.”
“You’re so quiet. What are you thinking about?”
I turn to her, feeling like it’s my only truth.
“About how much I love you.”
About how much I’m going to give you the best night of your life, and treat you like my queen, before I lose you forever.