Epilogue – Part II
REN
This was fine. Absolutely fucking fine. Oliver would never find out. He didn’t need to know I was serving my own justice. If he saw his father with a few missing teeth, that was perfectly all right.
I’d deny everything.
Okay, I wouldn’t. He’d know because he’s not dumb and I promised not to lie to him or KC again. So, I’d tell him if he asked.
I just hoped he never asked. Ever.
Because then he’d make his angry kitten face and I wouldn’t be able to get laid until I’d calmed him down. KC would hold out, too, because Oliver was angry with me. If Kitten wouldn’t have sex with me, KC would stand beside him.
Hell, if Luke knew what I was doing, he’d kick my ass. I’d promised him I wouldn’t go anywhere near Cain, but as far as I was concerned, I could be a big fat liar to anyone who wasn’t KC and Oliver. And maybe Quain, because he was KC’s pa and he kind of scared the fuck out of me.
But here I was, leaning against a grungy wall in an alleyway outside a shady bar on the outskirts of New Gothenburg.
I’d pulled my PI contact again, and Moyle had researched Cain and his habits.
He was one shifty motherfucker, but I’d decided this was the best place to get him right where I wanted him.
I hoped Oliver would forgive me if he found out what I was about to do.
The smell of garbage and piss invaded my nostrils and I scrunched my nose. Gross motherfuckers. Why couldn’t they piss in the toilets like every other sane asshole?
I inhaled the cig hanging between my fingers and let the tobacco burn my lungs. I exhaled the smoke through my nose up into the air and tilted my head, attempting to crack my neck. KC and Oliver hated when I smoked, but they hated how I cracked my joints even more.
“You’re going to break your neck if you keep doing that,” KC had snapped, giving me a sharp look that reminded me eerily of his pa. They might not be related, but you could certainly tell who’d raised him.
The door to the bar on my right opened and I straightened, then relaxed when I caught the face of the guy in the light from inside.
It wasn’t my target. I tugged my hood farther down my face and the guy didn’t give me a second glance as he stumbled along the alleyway, knocking over garbage cans as he went.
I grimaced at the loud clangs that echoed against the narrow walls.
I took another drag of my cigarette. Maybe this was a shitty idea and I should go home to my guys.
Snuggle up in bed or get my brain sucked out through my cock.
If Cain hadn’t been an absolute prick, I would be getting laid right now, but he needed to learn a lesson.
No one messed with KC and my Oliver. Fucking no one.
The door opened again and my target stepped out. He looked different from the first time I’d seen him. The curls were gone. His hair was buzzed close to his skull and his face was fuller. It pissed me off that he was attractive. I could see hints of Oliver in him.
He grumbled under his breath as he shuffled in the opposite direction before facing the wall near the door. He yanked down the zipper of his jeans and the sound of piss hitting the bricks made me wince.
He was a rotten father who took no responsibility. He didn’t give a damn who he knocked up. Of course he didn’t care about pissing in public.
I straightened, smirking when he wobbled. Drunk as fuck. Good. That made this so much easier. I moved to the opposite wall and crept closer behind him. He stayed oblivious, and I used his intoxication to my advantage.
“Hey, fucker.”
Cain spun around, but I struck him before he could react.
My knuckles smashed into his cheek, and he went flying backward, slamming against the same spot he’d drenched.
He groaned, sliding down to sit on his ass.
For good measure, I kicked him in the gut, and the pained sound that escaped him was perfect.
He folded in on himself, arm wrapped around his middle.
His cock was flaccid against his upper thigh, piss splashed on his jeans.
I thought about kicking him in the family jewels so he couldn’t procreate again, but I shoved off the idea.
I pointed at him. “Stay the fuck away from Oliver and his mom. If you come near them again, your club won’t be able to save you.”
I spat a glob of saliva onto his lap as he attempted to stand, but he collapsed again, too fucking drunk to do a thing. He was the biggest loser I’d ever seen. I didn’t know how Oliver came out of this guy’s balls. I credited his mom completely.
“Hey—”
I was weak. Can you blame me? I gave him another hard kick straight to the thigh.
“Fuck!”
I smirked. He could surmise who I was, but he was too drunk to tell and I had my hood on.
I left him there, sitting in his own piss and probably, eventually, vomit.
He cursed me with slurred speech as I escaped the stench of the alley, whistling on my way out.
I went straight to Shakira and drove home.
KC and Oliver were waiting for me when I entered the front door.
They were hugging on the couch, some horror movie playing on the TV.
Oliver’s eyes were wide, his face scrunched in fear as the dramatic music grew louder.
The moment the door slammed shut, Oliver screamed and jumped.
The only reason he didn’t go flying forward was KC holding him tight.
“You scared me,” Oliver accused, face crumpling into his angry kitten expression.
I held up my palms, grinning. “Sorry, Kitten.” I bounced over to him and dropped against him, making him grunt as I landed on him.
“Hey. You’re heavy.” His words came out as a whine.
I leaned over him and plopped a kiss on KC’s lips. “Hey, my Kansas sweetheart.”
KC snorted out a laugh. “Hey. Where were you? You should’ve been home hours ago. We tried to call you.”
“Yeah, sorry. I had an errand to run.” I grasped Oliver’s cheeks between my fingers and smacked my lips against his cheekbone. He groaned but didn’t complain.
“You could’ve told us you’d be home late.” Oliver attempted to look angry, but he was terrible at it. He was lucky he was too cute to resist.
“Sorry, sweet kitten. I’ll make sure I do that next time.”
“Dinner’s in the microwave,” KC said, smile so saccharine that I was ready to go into a sugar coma. “Oli and I made salmon and veggies.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” I couldn’t resist leaning over Oliver and giving him another hard kiss. He melted under me. “What are we watching?”
Oliver huffed. “Some clown movie. KC wanted to.”
“You said you were okay with it,” KC argued.
“I did not. I said—”
I watched them bicker, a strong love for them flooding me until I couldn’t tear my gaze from them.
Fuck. I’d won the lotto, and no one was messing with my guys, not even fathers in one-percenter motorcycle clubs.
I’d take on every criminal in this city if it meant Oliver and KC never had hurt feelings again.
Maybe the next target should be the college football team. Though, at least the head coach cared. He’d seen the work KC had put in. He’d already told KC they were looking at starting him again this summer. KC had worked hard to fight his demons and he was winning.
We all were. We’d always be stronger together.