Chapter Five
Lena had rehearsed the same numbers all morning in her head. Hospital bills, prescriptions, groceries. Each column of figures ended in red, and no matter how many times she added, subtracted, or begged the calculator to give her a miracle, the math didn’t change.
She’d been working herself ragged at the bar and now the clubhouse, and it still barely covered her mother’s treatment.
By the time she reached the hospital, her body ached with exhaustion, but her heart pounded harder.
The bills came due today. She’d scraped together every tip, every paycheck, every dollar from skipping meals and sleepless nights.
Her stomach was a knot of dread when she stepped up to the billing desk.
The administrator, a woman with kind eyes but a permanently stressed frown, pulled up her mother’s account. Lena braced herself.
But instead of rattling off the usual four-figure sum, the woman looked up and said, “You’re all set for this month, Miss Reed. Payment’s already been processed,” she said.
Lena blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” Lena had to ask.
“Paid,” the woman repeated. “Your mother’s file shows the balance cleared in full this morning.”
The world tilted. “That’s not possible. I—I didn’t...” Her words stumbled over the disbelief.
The administrator gave her a reassuring smile, the kind they probably reserved for families constantly on the edge of breaking. “It’s possible, honey. Someone took care of it,” the woman said.
Lena stepped back from the counter, clutching her worn leather wallet like it might anchor her. She tried to think of who it could be. Rick? No, Rick couldn’t even keep the bar lights on without panicking. A miracle from some charity? Doubtful.
That left one person. King.
Her pulse fluttered hard. Of course it was him. He had the means, the power, the ruthlessness to solve problems with the flick of his hand. He’d probably thought it was nothing, just another expense. But to her? It was everything.
The shock softened into something warmer, heavier. Gratitude tangled with irritation. King had no right to step into her life like that, to meddle. But damn it, he had, and her mother was breathing easier because of him.
By the time Lena left the hospital, her head spun. She didn’t go straight to her shift. Instead, she found herself walking the halls of the Devil’s Crown clubhouse, her fists tight at her sides. Each step echoed, carrying her closer to the one man she couldn’t stop thinking about.
King’s office door was closed, but the faint bass of music from the main room thudded through the walls. She lifted her hand and knocked once.
“Come in.” His voice was rough, commanding, as if he owned not just the room but the air around it.
She pushed the door open. King sat behind a heavy desk, papers spread out before him, a half-empty glass of whiskey at his elbow. The overhead light caught the scars carved along his jaw, the ones she sometimes caught herself staring at when she shouldn’t.
“Lena,” King said.
“Don’t ‘Lena’ me,” Lena began.
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her pulse was loud in her ears, but she forced her voice to stay steady.
“You paid my mom’s bills,” Lena finally said.
His brow furrowed, but he didn’t deny it. He just leaned back in his chair, broad shoulders rolling against the worn leather. “So?” King asked.
“So?” She threw her hands up. “You can’t just swoop into my life and fix things without even telling me. That’s not how this works,” she stated.
“Seems it worked just fine. Your mom’s covered,” King said with a shrug.
“That’s not the point,” Lena argued.
She crossed the office, her boots scuffing against the wood floor. “I’ve been killing myself to keep her afloat. Scraping every dollar, every hour I can get. And you—” She pointed a finger at him, heat flashing in her chest. “You think you can just throw money at it and make everything better?”
King’s gaze sharpened. “Would you rather she go without her meds? That what you’re saying?”
The breath rushed out of her lungs. Damn him. He had her cornered, and he knew it.
“No,” she admitted quietly. “Of course not.” Her voice cracked, raw with honesty. “I’m thankful. I am. But you can’t just ... you can’t play the monster with everyone else and then play savior with me. It doesn’t add up.”
For the first time since she barged in, King’s expression shifted. Something flickered in his eyes, something deeper than the mask he wore for the world. He rose from his chair slowly, his presence filling the space like smoke, inescapable.
He stopped just in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “Maybe I’m both,” he said quietly.
Her throat went dry.
“You’re not just the monster everyone says you are,” she whispered before she could stop herself. The truth hung heavy between them, undeniable.
King clenched his jaw. He clenched and unclenched his hand by his side, like he wanted to touch her but held himself back with sheer force of will.
“Careful, Lena,” he murmured. “You start believing that, and you’ll forget what I am.”
Lena wasn’t afraid of him, she never had been. Instead, her gaze traced the scar that slashed across his face, the one that should’ve made him terrifying but only made him more compelling.
The air grew thick, heated, charged with something dangerous. King stepped closer, his chest brushing hers, his breath warm against her temple. She could smell the whiskey, the leather, the faint smoke clinging to him.
Her body betrayed her, leaning in even as her mind screamed warnings. King shifted his gaze to her mouth, lingered, then dragged back up.
Slow burn turned into a spark that nearly set her alight. King lifted his hand, hovering near her cheek, so close she felt the warmth of his skin without the touch. His restraint was a battle she could feel in every taut line of his body.
Her breath caught. Just one more inch and his mouth would be on hers. The doorknob rattled.
“King?” Viper’s voice came through, muffled but urgent. “We got a situation.”
The spell shattered.
King jerked his hand back, stepping away from her like the distance might save them both. His jaw was tight, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen.
Lena swallowed hard, her heart still racing. She should’ve been relieved the moment was broken. Instead, a coil of frustration twisted inside her.
He turned toward the door, already shifting back into the president, the monster, the man who ran the Devil’s Crown. Just before he reached for the handle, King glanced over his shoulder at her. The look in his eyes said everything he didn’t. This wasn’t over.
****
Lena perched on the edge of the chair by her mother’s bed, balancing a Styrofoam cup of weak coffee in her hands. She tried to smile, tried to look brighter than she felt, but the weight pressing down on her chest was harder to disguise today.
Her mother, pale but alert, tilted her head. The lines of illness had etched themselves deep into her face, but her eyes still held that sharp, knowing glint Lena could never escape.
“You look tired,” she said softly. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
Lena shook her head. “I just want to focus on you, Mom. Not me.”
“That’s the problem.” Her mom gave her a tired smile. “You always want to focus on me. But I know when something’s gnawing at you. You forget, I raised you. What’s going on?”
Lena’s throat tightened. She sipped her coffee to buy time, but the bitter taste only reminded her of the conversation she’d been dodging with herself for days. “It’s nothing. Just life. Bills. Work.”
“Bills?” her mom asked. “You paid them, didn’t you?”
“That’s the thing.” Lena’s fingers tightened on the cup. “I went to the front desk the other day, and they said everything was covered. Already paid.”
Her mom’s brows drew together. “But you didn’t...”
“No. I didn’t.” Lena hesitated. “It was King.”
Recognition flickered in her mother’s eyes. Lena had mentioned him in passing. “The man from the MC?” her mom asked.
“Yes.” Lena swallowed, nerves tangling in her stomach. “He just took care of it. Thousands of dollars, Mom. He didn’t even tell me. I had to figure it out.”
Her mom’s thin hand shifted against the blanket, reaching until Lena leaned forward to clasp it. Lena started to talk, about how they met, and how she was trying her best to fight her attraction to him.
“King sounds like a good man to me,” her mom said.
Lena blinked, caught off guard. “A good man? Mom, he’s the president of the Devil’s Crown MC. People are terrified of him. He’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous isn’t the same as bad.” Her mom’s voice was faint but steady. “You said yourself he saved you when no one else would. That he gave you a job, and he’s also keeping an eye on you. And now this.”
“Exactly,” Lena said, leaning back in frustration. “King keeps inserting himself into my life, into our lives. Paying bills, throwing his weight around, acting like I need him. I can’t figure out what he wants from me.”
Her mom studied her with the kind of look that stripped Lena bare. “Maybe he just wants you.”
Heat rushed to Lena’s cheeks. “Mom.”
“I’m serious.” The older woman smiled faintly, squeezing her hand. “You’re so quick to take care of everyone else that you never let anyone take care of you. Maybe this is different. Maybe you should give it a chance.”
Lena stared at her, stunned. She’d expected warnings, the usual motherly instinct to keep her daughter away from men like King. Instead, her mom sounded almost hopeful.
“You really think he’s a good man?” Lena asked quietly.
“I think he’s showing you who he is. Believe actions, Lena, not rumors.”
Her chest tightened, her heart aching with the weight of those words. Thoughtful, unsettled, she kissed her mom’s forehead and promised to visit again tomorrow.
Her mind, however, was a storm as she walked down the sterile hallways and out toward the parking lot. The late afternoon sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the asphalt. Lena dug in her purse for her keys, distracted, still hearing her mother’s voice urging her to give King a chance.
She almost didn’t notice the two men leaning against a battered motorcycle until she was too close.
“Look who it is,” one of them drawled.
Lena froze. Her pulse leapt, recognition slamming into her chest. The taller of the two had greasy blond hair tied back, a serpent tattoo curling up his neck. She heard locals talk about him. Riker. The same Serpent who had cornered her at The Pit Stop, his leer burned into her memory.
“Well, ain’t this a pretty surprise,” Riker said, pushing off the bike and sauntering toward her. His buddy, broader and heavier, smirked and followed. “Out here all alone. Thought you’d be smarter after the other night.”
Her stomach dropped. She forced herself to straighten, fingers tightening on her keys. “Get out of my way.”
Riker chuckled. “Oh, she’s still got bite. I like that.” He leaned closer, and the reek of cigarettes and stale beer hit her. “You think that Devil’s Crown bastard’s gonna save you again? He won’t always be around.”
“Move,” she snapped, her voice shaking despite her effort to sound steady.
The bigger Serpent stepped into her path, cutting off the direct line to her car. “C’mon, sweetheart. Just want to talk. No need to get all riled up.”
Her heart hammered, adrenaline flooding her veins. She was seconds away from bolting, ready to scream if she had to. Then the roar of an engine split the air.
A black motorcycle tore into the lot, tires screeching as it stopped hard enough to make the Serpents stumble back.
King swung off the bike like he’d materialized out of smoke and fire, leather cut gleaming in the fading sunlight. His face was thunder, jaw set, eyes cold and lethal.
“You two got a death wish?” King demanded, his voice low and dangerous, promising pain.
Riker’s bravado faltered, but he sneered to cover it. “Just talking, King. No harm done.”
King closed the distance in three strides, his sheer presence enough to make the bigger Serpent backpedal.
“You touch her,” King growled, “you breathe the same air as her again, and I’ll bury you so deep your brothers won’t find your bones.”
Riker lifted his hands, smirking but pale beneath it. “Easy, Prez. Didn’t mean nothing by it.”
“Get. The fuck. Out,” King said.
The two Serpents scrambled onto their bike, engines coughing as they tore out of the lot, leaving only the stench of exhaust and fear behind.
Lena stood frozen, her whole body trembling, heart racing with leftover adrenaline.
King turned to her, his expression softening only slightly. “You all right?”
She nodded shakily, though her knees felt like they might buckle. “I ... I’m fine.”
The truth was, she wasn’t fine at all. Her body still hummed from fear, from the rush of danger and from the way King had appeared, all fury and fire, as if the entire world would burn before he let anything happen to her.
The adrenaline made her reckless. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what it would be like if he always showed up like this, unyielding and unstoppable, hers.
“Let’s head back to the clubhouse,” King ordered and all Lena could do was nod in agreement.