Blood (Kings if Sin MC #1)

3. Into the darkness

CHAPTER 3

INTO THE DARKNESS

W hispers trickle amongst the brothers’ confusion, trying to penetrate their alcohol-soaked brains. “Where did you get this?” Bear asks, attempting to take the patch from me. I close my fist, clutching the fabric in a vice grip. Harley would never have this. She despised the Kings with more passion than any of us.

“It was with Harley when they found her.” Anger colors my tone. An ominous silence falls amongst the brothers. Why aren’t they rushing to get weapons, planning to get answers from those bastards?

“When you say ‘found her’…?” Tyler edges toward me, but I’m already stepping back, sliding my eyes toward him without moving my head. I’m not a fucking child who needs to be handled.

“She’s fucking dead, Tyler. One of those King motherfuckers strangled her and cut away her tattoo.” I drag out one ragged breath after another.

The whispers turn to coarse grumbles. “This doesn’t mean the Kings had anything to do with it,” Tyler placates, pointing to my hand clutching the patch.

My skull crushes in on itself. “Are you serious?”

Of course that’s what it means.

“We all need to calm down and take this inside.” Bear twirls his hand in the air, signaling everyone to round up and go back inside.

“Did you hear what I said?” I cry out. Am I the only one who gives a shit ? Harley grew up here. Most of these brothers raised her. I’m going to wake up and this all be a dream. A fucking nightmare.

“Come inside. Let me make some calls.” Bear offers his hand out to me. Fire zaps through my veins. Disbelief stains my heart. Why are they all acting so normal?

Harley is fucking dead !

“Rogue, please,” Bear pleads, water glassing his eyes and melting away my resolve.

“Fine.” I push past everyone and find the first seat inside. Crossing my arms, I let my anger fester and build until my bones ache beneath the skin coating them. There’s movement and talking all around me, but I drown it out, sit, and wait for action. The fucking sky is falling in on me, and the people I call family don’t seem to give two shits.

How is this happening?

A dark pit unfurls within me, tempting me, opening its arms to embrace me—to mold me into what I need to be to exact vengeance no matter the cost. It’s selfish, but we’re Devils. To do nothing is a betrayal to Harley and a weakness for our club. Her death can’t go unpunished. I won’t allow it.

“Babe, you need to get some sleep. You’re exhausted,” Tyler informs me, collapsing into the seat beside me. “Bear has reached out to all our contacts. We’ll find who did this and deal with them accordingly.”

“We know who did this. She had one of their patches, Ty. You know how she felt about them. I bet she bumped into one of them that night and ran her mouth.” I sniffle, tucking my hair behind my ears.

He keeps his voice low and controlled. “We don’t know that. I know you’re angry.” His rough palm strokes up my bare thigh, squeezing the hem of my jean shorts. “It’s reckless to act when you’re hurting and not thinking clearly.”

“Hurting?” I snap, shoving his hand from me. I rise to my feet, forcing the chair to screech across the floor behind me. “There’s not a word for what I’m feeling. I want to bring the fucking world to its knees. If you don’t give me vengeance, I’ll unleash it upon them alone.”

I’ll set myself on fire and walk into their club just to burn it down if I must.

I march down the corridor to Bear’s room, sagging in relief when silence greets me inside. The stack of images from earlier are neatly piled on his desk. Lowering myself into his chair, I shuffle through them, stopping when I reach their VP smiling up at me. If he’s in charge now, he can get me the information I need. Looking at this picture earlier, my body lit up. His pretty face drew me in. Callan “Pain” Cox is scrawled on the back in Bear’s scruffy handwriting. What if he’s the one who choked the life from my sister?

Heavy footfalls pound from outside the room, growing closer. I fold the image in half, stuff it in my pocket, and straighten the pile of photos as the door swings open.

“Rogue.” Bear lifts his chin, not an ounce of surprise on his face. His frame darkens the doorway.

“You said their president was killed, right?”

“Right,” he confirms, folding his arms over his chest.

“What if this is related? The timing is too weird to be a coincidence, right? They must have thought the Devils had something to do with it and killed Harley in retaliation.” My mind runs a mile a minute, trying to connect dots even if they’re not there.

“The deaths happened around the same time. They wouldn’t have known about him until after Harley’s death. I managed to get through to a contact at the station. Harley’s body—”

“Don’t say body,” I snap. “She’s not a slab of fucking meat. You taught her to walk. Jesus Christ. Do you even care that she’s dead?” I trip on the last word, grief consuming me.

“Rogue.” He pushes off the doorframe and bends in front of me. A calloused palm cups my cheek. The pad of his thumb swipes away my tears. “It’s killing me seeing you in this much pain. The thought of what some piece of shit did to Harley is unforgivable. I love that kid. We all do—did. But right now, emotions are high, and we need all the facts. What you’re suggesting will lead to war, and more of us will die.” I know that. The thought of Bear—or any of the brothers—dying hurts, but to do nothing? How would I be able to live with myself if it turns out I’m right?

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” I sniffle. She’s really gone.

“Come lie down for a minute.” He guides me to his bed and pulls back the duvet. “Rest.”

“I need to go to Mom’s.”

“I’ll go check in on her,” he assures me, helping me onto the mattress and covering me with the duvet.

“Are you sure?” Bear and my mother have never gotten along. Their personalities clash in every way.

“Just rest.” I watch him leave then turn to stare up at the ceiling. Thoughts barrage into my mind. Harley looking up at Callan’s beautiful face while his hands tighten around her throat. The people in each picture take his place as her murderer, until it’s me looking down at her with my hands around her small neck. I snatch up the pillow, throw it over my face, and scream into it until my throat gives out and exhaustion leaves me numb.

Sleep evades me, but I lie there anyway with my body frozen, my mind whirling, my soul broken. The clock on the bedside table ticks like a bomb.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

* * *

Dawn breaks. The sun seeps through the small window, causing a halo of light to dance above the bed. Dust particles float endlessly through the rays. It’s calming.

Pushing myself upright, my bones protest. I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. My long hair is in tangles that hang in clumps down my shoulders. I need a shower and a change of clothes. I brush my fingers through my hair the best I can and splash cold water on my face in Bear’s bathroom. The green of my eyes seems more vibrant against the dark circles sitting beneath them peering back at me in the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and head toward the main room. Typically, the club is a graveyard until noon, but today everyone seems to be up.

“Princess.” Jenna says my name so quietly, like I’ll splinter into pieces if she raises her voice. A fragile vase to be handled with care. “Suppliers are due in a couple hours.” She chews on her lip, wearing the same clothes as last night. She probably stayed in Tyler’s bed. He sure as shit didn’t come looking for me.

“Fuck off, Barbie. Don’t bother her with that shit.” Tyler barks, like my thoughts conjured him. Strong arms fold over my shoulders from behind, wrapping against my chest. Tyler’s torso warms my back, but it offers no comfort.

“Sorry, I’ll see what I can have canceled.” She dips her head, submissive to his treatment.

“Thanks,” I call out to her back as she hurries off. I don’t know who’s more relieved the wedding won’t go ahead: her or me.

Me .

“How are you feeling?” Tyler whispers, tightening his hold.

“Like my sister was murdered and no one cares.”

A heavy sigh heats my ear. “Babe, that’s not fair. Harley was one of us.”

Was she? It doesn’t feel that way. Has he forgotten what these bastards did to our fathers? What retribution was there then?

“Stop wearing him like a jacket. You’re not supposed to see each other until the vows.” Meredith, Tyler’s mother, scorns, coming through the main entrance with her hands full of boxes. “You look dreadful.” Her black brows shoot toward her bleach-blonde hairline.

“Mom, we need to talk.” Tyler unfurls his arms and drops a kiss on the top of my head before guiding his mother toward the kitchen.

At least Harley’s death saved me from the wedding.

I hate myself for thinking it, but the thought manifests all the same.