Chapter Twenty
King
I slept like shit.
After everything that happened yesterday, the fucking information overload ran through my head all night. Not to mention the doubts about Declan that assailed me.
Stumbling into the kitchen, all I wanted was a gallon of coffee. What I didn’t want was to find Maureen Murphy laughing with Hash.
“What are you doin’ here, darlin’?”
“Morning, King. I told Hash I would come by this morning and make some cinnamon rolls. I hope that’s ok?”
I smiled at her. It wasn’t ok, but I wouldn’t tell her that. I didn’t mind her being here. She was welcome anytime. There was just a lot of shit going on right now, and I didn’t want her getting caught up in it.
Leaning my back against the counter, I sipped my coffee, watching her try to teach Hash how to roll the cinnamon rolls she said they were making.
Hash was a great cook; he kept us fed. But he couldn’t make anything resembling a dessert. If we wanted something sweet, we had to order from Patty at The Bake Shoppe.
Sam had done a little baking now and again, but her pregnancy was starting to take its toll. Beck, Sam, and Ellie were all pregnant. It was hell when they were all together, but I was looking forward to having some babies around.
As long as they weren’t mine.
“Hey, King. We got a guy outside, demanding to come in. Threatening to shove a gun up Archie’s ass if he doesn’t open the gate.”
“Jesus Christ. What now?” Dumping my coffee in the sink, I set my cup on the counter. I looked over at Hash and ordered, “Keep her in here.” Then, I followed Billy out to the common room. “Where’s Cash?”
“Hasn’t come down yet.”
“Go wake his ass up,” I growled, looking around the room to see who was here.
“Ben!”
“Yea, Prez.”
“You and Tank are with me.”
Heading for the door, they both followed without question. They were the two biggest brothers. Though Gunner was a few inches taller, Tank and Big Ben had height, as well as weighted limbs in the form of fucking tree trunks. Whoever was out there threatening my prospect would think twice once they got a look at these two.
I jogged down the few steps, heading for the gate. When I got a look at the man berating Archie, I quickly realized the two men behind me, that I had counted on putting the fear of God into the asshole, wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing to make him cower.
“Get your fucking president out here now, Prospect!”
“I’m here.”
The big motherfucker turned his stoney gaze on me, and I hesitated just for a second.
“Open the fucking gate and let me see my daughter.”
Fuck.
I suddenly realized I was looking at a ghost.
Shane Keller was said to have died more than a decade ago on a run. Yet, he was standing outside my gate.
“Open the gate, Prospect.”
Archie pressed a button, and the gate rolled open. Keller climbed back on his bike and rode into the lot. When he turned off the bike and climbed off, he looked at Tank and Big Ben.
“Are these two fuckers supposed to be scary? Have you met my fucking stepson?”
“No, sir, I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Shane scoffed, “That’s fucking obvious, if you use words like pleasure and Sandman in the same sentence.”
He followed me into the clubhouse and asked, “Where is my daughter?”
“Matlock, go get Fury and Carly.”
“I know I don’t really have a say here, but are you sure about him, Charlotte, ’cause say the word, and I will gut him then get you and my grandson out of this fucking place fast?”
“I wouldn’t have made it out of the city without him, Dad. Please trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
Shane Keller narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger right in Fury’s face. “I don’t like you. You ain’t good enough for her.”
I saw him gulp, then nod. Everyone around him laughed. Including me, and I had already almost shit myself when I met him at the gate. But I couldn’t resist chapping his ass just a little.
Slapping him on his back, I smirked. “Ah, fathers-in-law. Thank fuck I don’t have one. My condolences, Fury.”
He growled, turning toward me and asked, “How is Steele by the way, asshole?”
And just like that, my laughter stopped.
He leaned in close so only I could hear and whispered, “Does he know yet?”
I didn’t answer.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” I shouted, moving away from him. “I’ve got my own fucked-up family to take care of. Matlock, you’re up.”
Matlock grinned, then cleared his throat. “I gotta ask. You sure you want him Carly, ’cause he’s still a work in progress? Not sure even you can set him straight. He’s got a nasty temper and farts in his sleep, but his ma is the best cook in the city, so that’s a plus.”
Fury growled; Carly chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”
Five minutes later, it was done. Fury was officially, and more importantly, legally married to a Golden Princess.
And I had a blood bond with the Soulless Sinners, and the Golden Skulls.
“Daddy,” Fury’s daughter Bri whispered loudly as she tugged on his pant leg. “Is Carly my momma now?”
Smiling, I watched as Carly kneeled before her. “Brianna, I will be whatever you want me to be, sweetheart.”
Brianna looked at her sister Andi, then over at Drew, who stood next to his grandfather and pointed. “If Carly’s my momma, can you be my grandpa too?”
Shane Keller smiled broadly as he bent to pick up Fury’s daughter. “I’d love to be your grandpa, gorgeous.”
“Daddy, do I have a grandpa?” Charlie asked loudly in her father’s arms.
“You sure do. He’s right there.” The asshole pointed his finger right at me, and I rolled my eyes while flipping Jackass the one-finger bird.
Charlie giggled. “That’s Unka King, Daddy.”
“He’s both, Shortcake.”
“You can share my Pop-pop, Charlie,” Chrissy happily offered, as Tabby nodded.
“Alright, girls, let’s go have some cake,” Ellie said as she ushered her girls out of the room, followed by Charlie, Samantha, and the rest of the women.
“Nav got you both on the eleven o’clock flight out of Cheyenne to LaGuardia,” I informed, walking over and handing him several papers. “You should land around three in the afternoon. From there, you should know your way home. If you get into trouble, call me. Jingles and Matlock have offered to fly out since they are from the area. I will wait twenty-four hours before I call Reaper and tell him the news.”
“That doesn’t give us enough time,” Carly whispered, looking at Fury.
“I wish I could give you both more, but the law is clear. Twenty-four hours is all you get.”
“And Montana?” Carly asked as I looked at Fury but said nothing.
Sighing, he looked down at his wife and simply replied, “Depending on his mood, he will issue Blood of a Sinner or kill me outright, but you, he will happily use you to bring Reaper to heal.”
“That ain’t gonna happen,” Shane said, walking over, minus Fury’s daughter. Beck ushered Fury’s girls and Drew into the kitchen. “No matter where you go, someone will always be there. Trust in that, Charlotte. Ain’t no one ever gonna use you as a bargaining chip again.”
Carly nodded. “And the kids?”
“Just waiting on our ride, baby girl,” Shane said as someone I recognized but hadn’t seen in years walked into the clubhouse unannounced.
Fury walked over to him and hugged his brother. “Linsey?”
“Alive,” Vicious hoarsely said, his voice full of emotion as he slapped Fury’s back. Releasing him, he looked around the room and asked, “Where are the girls?”
“In the kitchen having cake and ice cream,” I said, extending my hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, Vicious, but we met once when you stayed at our Mother Chapter in Arkansas.”
Vicious nodded. “Good to see you again, King. I see you finally got your own chapter. Good for you.”
“What’s the word, Vicious?” Shane asked, ignoring the pleasantries.
“It’s not good. Montana is digging in his heels. He’s challenging the ruling of the table, demanding a clemency hearing with them and Reaper. The table is considering it to avoid all-out war. To make matters worse, Reaper’s been silent. No one has heard shit out of him since the table made the ruling.”
“That’s not fucking good,” I muttered.
“Got that right. A silent Reaper is a deadly one. To make matters worse, Montana is having a hard time contacting several of the chapters.”
“What do you mean?” Fury asked, confused.
“What I said,” Vicious blatantly said. “They aren’t answering the call.”
“Compromised?”
“More like they are tired of Montana’s shit. That motherfucker has had ample opportunity to do the right thing from the second he took over the chair, and he’s refused every time. I think the other clubs are tired of covering for him.”
“Who’s still at the club?”
“After you, me, and Storm left, Montana locked down the club tight. No one in or out.”
“How do you know that?”
“’Cause I told him,” another man said, walking into my clubhouse and heading straight for the bar. “I’ll take a shot of whiskey.”
“You give him that drink and I will beat your ass, kid,” Vicious sneered at the young man behind the bar, who looked directly at King.
“Uh, King?”
“Do as he says, Prospect.”
Looking at Vicious, Fury asked, “What the fuck is Bane doing here?”
“Found him walking out of the sheriff’s station. Something about someone forging his signature. It doesn’t matter. You need to take him back to New York with you. I can’t take him with me.”
“Well, I don’t want him!”
“He can stay here until he’s sober,” I offered, assuming this was Dr. August Lansing. My club was partially responsible for him being here.
“Good luck with that,” Fury snarked. “Fucker can find liquor like a bloodhound. Damn good doctor, but he’s a drunk.”
“Not drunk,” Bane slurred, damn near slipping from his stool.
Rolling his eyes, Fury groaned, looking at his watch. “Carly and I need to get on the road if we’re going to catch that plane.”
“Ghost and Jingles will follow in case of trouble. Call when you land,” I said, shaking Fury’s hand.
Turning to Shane Keller, Fury said, “Please take care of our kids. Those girls are my life.”
“Does that now include my daughter and grandson?”
Looking at Carly, Fury nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“My grandbabies will be fine. Go and do what you need.”
“The kids will be fine,” Vicious added, quickly hugging him. “Linsey sends her love.”
Fury grabbed Carly’s hand as they followed Ghost and Jingles out of the club.
Turning back to Vicious, I asked, “Do you need a place to stay for the night?”
“Thank you, but I’m gonna get the kids and hit the road.”
“Amber, can you help Beck and Samantha get the kids ready to go?”
Amber smiled and walked toward the kitchen.
“She an old lady?” Shane asked.
“No,” I said gruffly, wondering why he was asking.
“So she’s a club—”
“Don’t fucking finish that sentence,” I growled.
Shane narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t say anything else. He might be a big motherfucker, and despite his age, could probably kick my ass, but I wouldn’t let anyone talk about Amber like that.
“Let’s get the kids and go,” Vicious said, smacking Shane in the chest with the back of his hand. “We have a long trip.”
“Meant no harm,” Shane grumbled as he followed Vicious. “Woman just looked familiar, that’s all.”
“Everyone looks familiar when you’re old as dirt.”
“Not much older than you, fucker,” Shane snarked. “Just sayin’ she is familiar.”
“I know she is,” Vicious muttered as he looked back at me before he entered the kitchen.
Shaking my head, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I will be glad when I have my clubhouse back.”
“Then you’d better pray Vicious doesn’t say shit, ’cause he fucking remembered,” Jackass whispered as he walked past me toward the kitchen.
I stared down the hallway leading to the kitchen and prayed.
Please God, one goddamn thing at a time.