5. Lola
LOLA
Kane listens without interrupting me for almost ten minutes. We're in his office rather than the room they use for church. Judge sits on one side of the desk, Cross beside me on the other. I'm giving them everything I know about Perdition MC.
"My father trusts Raze more than he likes him," I say. "There's a difference."
Kane leans back in his chair. "Explain it."
"Raze wants the gavel one day and Cyrus knows it. That's why he keeps him close. Better to know where the ambitious man is than wonder what he's doing behind your back."
Cross nods. "He's right about that."
"He also knows Raze won't make a move unless he thinks he can win," I continue. "He isn't brave enough to gamble everything on principle."
Judge's mouth moves slightly. "Sounds like a charming guy."
"He's Perdition's vice president. What were you expecting?" I glance at Cross. "But he didn't expose me either, which says something too."
"He sent men north knowing you lied," Cross adds.
"Exactly."
Kane looks between us. "Why?"
"I think he's tired of my father spending the club on this.
" I hesitate, sorting through years of overheard conversations that never seemed important at the time.
"Raze has complained about money, men, territory.
He's challenged Cyrus when a decision affects Perdition.
But Kingdom Come is different. Every time this comes up, my father stops talking about what's good for the club and starts talking about you. "
Kane doesn't need me to explain why. King was his father and the former president. This was his father's club before it was his, and everything Cyrus thinks Kane ruined.
"He thinks if he beats you badly enough, he proves your father was right."
Kane's expression stays flat. "King's dead. Doesn't seem like much of an audience."
"He isn't doing it for King anymore."
"No," Cross says. "He's doing it because he can't stand Kane being proof there's another way to run a club."
Kane looks at him. "And the men?"
"Some will follow Cyrus wherever he points because that's what they've always done, but there aren't enough of them anymore.
Yesterday cost him. Raze took damage, Granger's shoulder is fucked, a couple more aren't riding properly for a while.
If Cyrus brings every available man here tonight and tells them to charge an armed compound over one defector, they'll know exactly what he's asking them to die for. "
"Would they refuse?" Judge asks.
Cross considers it. "If Cyrus is standing there alone giving the order? Maybe not. If Raze gives them permission to stop pretending it's club business?"
That is the thing I've been circling since we came in. I look at Kane. "Raze doesn't need convincing that my father can't keep running the club through fear."
"He needs to see something in it for him."
"Exactly."
Judge looks at me. "The chair."
"He's wanted it for years. Not enough to challenge my father while Cyrus had the club behind him, but if my father loses the men..." I shrug. "Raze won't die preserving my father's presidency."
Kane taps one finger against the desk as he thinks this information through. "Who stands with Raze?"
"It's not like that. Nobody's secretly pledged themselves to him."
I force myself to continue. "Deke listens to Raze more than Cyrus. Macer thinks my father should've ended this months ago, but he wouldn't dare say it in front of him. Granger's been pissed since yesterday. Bo will follow whoever looks most likely to still be standing at the end."
Cross gives me a sideways look. "Bo always was a loyal soul."
"I know he's a prick." I shrug.
Kane glances between us before bringing the conversation back. "Weapons?"
Cross gives him what he knows about the men likely to ride, who carries what and how Perdition normally approaches another club's ground.
I fill the gaps he can't. Cyrus changed where he keeps spare ammunition after a theft last year.
Another brother will come just because he lives on-site and has nowhere else to be.
None of it is dramatic information, but together, it becomes a bigger picture.
All the things men said in front of me because I was just Cyrus's daughter.
All the grudges I heard at the bar, favors I watched my father call in and arguments that stopped mattering the next morning are suddenly more valuable than a list of guns or addresses could ever be.
Kane lets us finish and thinks before he speaks. "We don't need to beat Perdition."
Judge looks at him. "No?"
"No. We need Cyrus to ask too much of his men," Kane replies. "I don't think we need to stop Perdition. I think Cyrus is doing the work for us."
Kane stands and places his hands flat on his desk. "However, we still prepare like every one of them is coming to shoot."
Outside, the compound has changed. The lazy nighttime rhythm is gone.
Men move between the clubhouse and garage.
Bikes are shifted away from the front. Weapons appear and aren't as concealed as they were before.
Kingdom Come is expecting a war and it's making damn sure it's prepared for one.
It's all because of my father, and the thought still hurts.
I don't know how long that's going to keep surprising me.
Cross catches my hand before I reach the hallway. "We need to talk."
"That sounds ominous."
I follow him toward his room anyway. The door closes behind us, and he turns to me. "You're staying away from the gates."
There it is. I fold my arms. "No. I'm not doing that."
"Lola. Come on."
"My father is coming here because of you and because he thinks I'm too irrelevant to mention. I'm not hiding in a bedroom while he does it."
"Nobody said hide."
"What would you call it?"
"Not standing in the line of fire."
"He won't shoot me."
Cross's expression goes hard. "You sure about that?"
The answer catches in my throat because yesterday I would've been. Tonight, I don't know.
Cross sees it. "I'm not willing to find out."
"And I'm not willing to let him arrive here, threaten everyone and never have to look at me."
"You already gave Kane what he needs."
"That isn't the same thing."
"Why the fuck do you need to be there?"
"Because he's my father."
Cross runs a hand over the back of his neck. "That's exactly why I don't want you there."
I step closer. "I'm not asking you to want it."
His jaw tightens.
"You don't get to spend ten years telling me I'm smart enough to see what's happening and then decide for me the second you don't like the answer."
"That's not fair."
"It is completely fair."
"I watched Cyrus not ask whether you were alive an hour ago. Forgive me if I'm not excited about putting you in front of him with a gun in his hand."
The fear beneath the anger shuts down my next reply. I realize that this isn't about Cross trying to control me. He's scared for me.
I let my arms drop. "I'm still going."
"I know."
That surprises me.
Cross looks away and swears quietly. "I fucking know."
I move closer until there's barely any space between us. "My whole life, I've let being Cyrus's daughter decide what I could do. Who I could trust. What I was supposed to ignore." I put my hand against his chest. "I'm done doing that."
His gaze drops to my hand. "Whatever happens tonight, I'm not going back to the woman who stood in Perdition making excuses because it was easier."
"Lola—"
"And I'm not going back to pretending I hate you either."
His eyes come back to mine. That one lands.
I swallow. "I don't know where I'm going to live next month or what half my life looks like anymore. But I know I want you in it."
Cross doesn't speak, and for a man who usually has an answer for everything, he's suddenly very quiet. "Nothing irritating to say?"
He catches my wrist and turns my hand over, pressing his mouth against my palm.
"I fell first."
My heart gives a stupid little kick. "I know."
"No, you don't." He draws me closer. "I was fucked long before you ever noticed."
"That's extremely romantic."
"I'm trying here."
I smile despite everything. "Carry on."
His other arm circles my waist. "You want the truth? I fell first, harder and like a complete fucking idiot. Happy?"
"Getting there."
"You're a pain in my ass."
"You love it."
His expression changes. Not enough to make the word into a declaration, but enough that I feel it. "Yeah," he says. "I do."
Then he kisses me. There isn't any anger in the way I kiss him back, no score to settle and no need to prove which one of us wanted the other more. There's still urgency because my father could reach these gates at any time, but it doesn't feel borrowed from fear.
Cross's hands slide beneath my shirt and I lift my arms without making him stop. My clothes come off more slowly than they did before, not because either of us wants less, but because this time we're not racing years of frustration. When I push him backward onto the bed, his mouth curves.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Your face is doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"Being annoying."
I climb over him in response, and when Cross's hands settle on my thighs, I catch both his wrists before he can move them higher.
"Let me."
His eyes darken. "Wasn't going to argue."
"Good."
I kiss him, slower this time, taking my time because I can. There is something deeply satisfying about watching the man who spent years controlling every reaction lose that ability under my hands. By the time I wrap my fingers around him, Cross's breathing has changed.
"Lola."
"Still got something clever to say now?"
"Nope. Apparently not," he breathes.
"Excellent."
I lower my mouth to his chest, then lower, and his hand knots in the sheet instead of reaching for me. Every reaction he gives me feels like something freely handed over, and tonight I want all of them. Eventually Cross catches me beneath the arms and pulls me back up.
"I wasn't finished."
"Neither am I."
His mouth takes mine as he rolls us, but I shove his shoulder.
"No."
He immediately stills. I push him onto his back again and straddle him. Understanding flashes in his face, and his hands stay on my hips while I guide him inside me. This time there is no stretch of uncertainty, no moment where either of us needs to stop. My body already knows his.
I set the pace and Cross lets me, at least for a while. His fingers eventually tighten against my skin. "You're killing me."
"Seems a bit dramatic."
"You've met me."
I laugh, and he uses the moment to pull me down for a kiss. Pleasure builds beneath the humor, slow and heavy rather than frantic, until talking takes too much effort. His hands move over me without taking control away. When I change the rhythm, he follows. When I need more, he gives it.
This isn't surrender, and it isn't victory either.
It's us finally meeting in the middle. The thought is dangerously close to sentimental, so I stop thinking and move faster.
Cross swears, one hand sliding between us.
The extra touch pushes me over first. I bite down on his shoulder as the orgasm rolls through me, slower than last time but deeper, leaving me shaking against him.
Cross lasts only a few movements longer.
He pulls me down against his chest afterward, both of us breathing hard.
I smile into his neck. "I win."
His laugh vibrates beneath me. "You were keeping score?"
"Always."
"Should've known."
Suddenly, things get noisy outside. Shouts start across the yard, and a few minutes later somebody pounds once on the door.
"Perdition on the road," Judge calls from the hallway. "Five minutes, maybe less."
Every trace of warmth inside me turns sharp.
Cross sits up. "I still want you to stay here."
I climb off him and reach for my clothes.
"Not a chance." He looks at me while I pull on my shirt, and for a second I think he's going to argue again.
Instead, he grabs his cut. The stripped leather goes over his shoulders, only his name left where Perdition used to be. I walk toward him and smooth my fingers once over the CROSS patch.
"Ready?"
"As ever," he says.
Outside, the compound is already moving toward the gates because my father is coming to finish the war he started. This time, I'm going to be standing on the other side when he arrives.