Chapter 6 Killian
SIX
KILLIAN
Wes wanted to go over a few last-minute things with me before the big transition.
After the ruse of our previous leader’s demise, he continued to hold family dinners with the only people who knew he still lived.
It was a tad awkward because he had decided to settle down with Sasha, an ex-Death Raider, and the mother of one of my enemies, Silas.
Our dinners consisted of family, but somehow Laura and I were tossed in there too.
A few weeks ago, during one of these family dinners, Simon had mentioned the files and how I needed to have someone go through them.
Now that a new, and more permanent president would be taking over, inventory of our allies needed to be accounted for before we started taking meetings with rival clubs, such as The Chaos Kings.
And fuck me, but I saw an opportunity. Laura was already doing the books, and in the office.
Laura who had mentioned wanting out of the club.
I’d found a way to remove that possibility, and she might hate me for it, and for what she’d be forced to see in those documents but frankly, I didn’t care.
I was tired of her avoidance, the distance and bullshit dance we kept tiptoeing to.
She wasn’t leaving, plain and fucking simple.
Wes slapped a folder in front of me, drawing my attention back. “The property behind the club. It’s been purchased using club funds.”
I picked it up, then paused at the sound of feminine laughter echoing up from the bottom floor. Wes’s office was on the top floor of his house, so everything echoed. He was going to have a hard time with things once their kid came into the world and started crying and teething and shit.
“Laura is over, helping with some party things—or something. I can’t keep up with what they’re doing all the time,” Wes mumbled while clicking his mouse, staring at the computer screen.
Suddenly, and very stupidly, I had the urge to move our meeting downstairs. Just so I could look at Laura. I may have made an effort to avoid her for three months, but it didn’t mean I ever stopped watching her. Examining every little thing she did was one of my favorite past times.
“This your old place?” I asked to get my focus back on our meeting.
The folder had a picture of his old house, which sat on the back end of the club property.
Technically, it was all left to Callie, his wife but when it was discovered that her father, Simon wasn’t actually dead, the property was signed over to the trust, which was owned by the club.
Wes nodded. “Figured it would be an extra spot to put people if needed.”
“The cabin still out there?” Simon had owned a small one-bedroom cabin that Callie and Laura had stayed in when they had first arrived.
I hadn’t been out there to see if anyone used it.
Not after it was clear they weren’t forcing Laura to live in it.
Which was fine, I didn’t need the apartment, and I could have taken the cabin—I just didn’t know what the fuck was going on with any of it, which was partially why we were having this meeting.
“Yeah, keys are being handed over to the club as well. It’ll go in as part of the trust that holds the deeds.”
That made sense.
“All this will need to go into that new filing system.”
Hearing another lilt of laughter, I peered over my shoulder because it sounded like they were closer. Wes likely caught the movement because when I returned to my position, a smirk tugged up his lips.
“You give the job over to Laura?”
“You wanted it updated, not digitalized, right?” I avoided his very obvious change in conversation.
He wanted to discuss his wife’s best friend in regard to me.
He knew I was starting to fall for her three months ago, but never said anything once she officially moved back, and I’d started avoiding her.
He paused for a few moments before responding.
“Right.”
Keeping my eyes on the folder in front of me, I spoke easily. “Then it’s getting done.”
“Dinner is ready!” Callie called from downstairs.
Wes moved first, clicking out of a few things on his computer. I closed the folder and tucked it into the backpack I’d brought. I’d driven my truck tonight because the forecast called for black ice.
“You staying?” Wes asked, taking the stairs.
My stomach flipped. I should leave, but the prospect of being around Laura for an evening felt too appealing.
For three months, I had denied myself the opportunity to be around her, always leaving first. Never staying where she was.
I did it because I was afraid of falling too far and too fast with her.
I was afraid of losing myself before I ever had the chance to do the one thing I’d always wanted to do, which was becoming president of this club.
Simon had warned me not to allow myself anything that would pull me away from the club.
It was a sacrifice, but in the end, this was what I wanted above all else.
But my mind flung the image of Kip’s bike at me, forcing my jaw to clench. Regardless of what Laura said, there was still another man in that house with her. Still someone who was talking sweet, building enough of a relationship that she considered having him take her over me.
“I’ll stay.”
Wes paused mid step, laughing to himself while shaking his head. I kicked him in the back of the kneecap, making his next step falter.
“Fucker.”
He was still chuckling when we cleared the stairs.
The first floor of Wesley’s house was massive.
The far wall, facing the front yard, was all glass windows, and during the day, you could see the whole valley from them.
Three leather couches framed the living room, along with two armchairs and a coffee table.
The kitchen was all hardwood floors and quartz counters, top of the line fixtures and lighting features.
My socks padded over the floors, sliding slightly as I entered the kitchen. Laura was sitting atop a barstool, tucked into the island with a bowl of salad in front of her and a cutting board, littered with carrots.
“Hey guys, we’re having million-dollar spaghetti with salad and breadsticks.”
Callie finished explaining then her arms went around Wesley’s neck, and he pulled her in for a kiss.
Laura’s eyes remained on the carrots she was shredding in front of her.
“Can I help?” I pulled out the stool next to her.
She had on some kind of dress or jumpsuit that left her shoulders bare. Her golden skin drew my attention, but so did the soft waves of sunlight falling against her back, and the way her pink lips pursed while she attempted to ignore me.
“I got it,” she murmured, keeping her focus on the mess in front of her.
Callie glanced over briefly but resumed hugging her husband.
Folding myself onto the barstool, I spread my legs, pushing my left kneecap into Laura’s, but I acted like I didn’t realize I’d done it.
A spark of humor lit my chest when she pushed right back, almost as if she were trying to get me out of her space.
With Callie and Wes on the other side of the counter, they couldn’t see us.
Laura’s face tilted, until she was glaring at me.
I pressed my leg firmer into hers and gave her the same expression. She wanted to challenge me.
This was the wrong fucking way to do it. She was basically waving a green flag to touch her.
Keeping her attention, I lowered the hand closest to her body and gripped her thigh, while reaching over to grab a carrot with my other hand.
Her lips parted when my fingers moved farther north, feeling her heat against the backs of my fingers suddenly had her scrambling off her stool and grabbing the salad bowl.
I bit back a smile as I crunched a carrot and followed her toward the table with four plates.
Laura took a seat first, which allowed me the chance to pull out the chair next to her.
Except one second after sitting, she was sliding her chair away from me, which Wes caught because he raised his brow at me in question.
I leaned in close before Callie got to the table and whispered in her ear, “Keep moving away from me and I’m going to keep my hand on your thigh for the rest of the night.”
She exhaled through her nose, making her nostrils flare.
Before her best friend could come back in, I gripped the bottom of Laura’s chair and glided it back into place, right next to me, so close our shoulders nearly touched.
“Doesn’t this smell delicious?” Callie beamed, carrying in the casserole dish of pasta.
She’d made this dish exactly eighteen times in the past three months, and now the smell and sight of it was starting to make my stomach curdle, but we all still told her yes, and that we couldn’t wait to eat it.
“Can you please pass the salad?” I asked Laura.
She gave the couple across from us a fake smile while reaching for the bowl, then slid it over to me.
“Thank you.”
Callie watched our exchange with a puzzled expression.
“So, Kil. You ready for everything this weekend?”
I took a bite of salad, while nodding. I didn’t want to talk about this again. Every time she asked me about this, it only reminded me that her husband took my role. All for some fucking game Simon wanted to play.
And he left me out of it.
Hurt was still a barbed wire wound tightly around my pride.
“Laura has been prepping all the members by sending invites via email, text and making calls.” Callie smiled at her friend, as if that would make me happy.
It was just another reminder.
Wes said something to Callie, forcing her attention off us, which Laura took advantage of.
Tilting her face so her words were hushed, she asked, “Reminds me, how exactly would you like me to personalize your friend’s invitation?” Her lips spread into a sly smile. “Should I just put, ‘girl with real tits,’ or ‘Killian’s fuck buddy?’”
Who was she—