Blood (Kings if Sin MC #1)

15. Queen beats everything

CHAPTER 15

QUEEN BEATS EVERYTHING

S tatic silence hums through the room, suspending time. I fight the rising panic, attempting to swallow. My mouth is too dry. My eyes flit between the two entities before me. Goosebumps skate over my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

My fists clench at Georgina’s smug face. I should have ripped out her tongue when I had the chance. She’s done her best to hide the bruising under her eyes from the broken nose I gave her, but I see it. I see her.

Callan gets to his feet and rounds his desk, walking up to a gleeful Georgina. Gripping her upper arms, he whispers something in her ear. I hate how close he is to her, his skin on hers…

Jealous little girl bullshit. Pathetic.

I never felt jealousy toward women around Tyler, but that’s probably because I didn’t care enough—didn’t crave his attention, his touch like I do Callan’s.

“But…” she starts, but he shuts her up with a look. Dropping her gaze to her heels, she bobs her head. “Fine.” She blows out an aggravated breath and storms toward me, her dress billowing behind her like a serpent’s tail, slowing when she’s beside me where I stand just inside the doorway. I keep my eyes focused ahead, not giving her the satisfaction of my attention.

“My hair will grow back. Your head won’t when Callan hacks it from your shoulders. And make no mistake, I’ll be there to watch, Devil bitch.” She sneers.

I envision myself ramming her face into the doorframe. Watching her crumble in a heap as her blood pools around her, but instead, I do nothing. She’s not important right now.

She strides past me out of the room, her heels tapping against the wood floor.

“Hey, Georgina,” I call out, halting her steps. She turns, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re a cunt.” I slam the door closed. The gust of wind from my effort lifts my hair, splaying it over my cheeks. I leave it there to hide the bruise blooming from Tyler’s rough hand.

When I turn around, Callan’s glaring at me, his body rigid. A cold draft chases up my spine, curling around my neck like a noose. I avert my eyes, trying to find somewhere else to focus, and my gaze lands on a dent chipped in the table leg.

“Is there something you need to tell me?” His words mirror those that he spoke to Kitty back at the carnival. Shit. Kitty. She’s going to be pissed when she finds out who I am from Georgina.

A dull headache begins pounding behind my eyes. What the hell can I say? Lies coat the tip of my tongue, but I choke them back.

“Looks like Georgina already told you.” I attempt to straighten my spine and slip my mental armor in place. Callan moves like a supernatural being. One minute he’s across the room and the next he’s standing over me, imprisoning me with his body. His palm slams against the door next to me. I don’t flinch. I’m frozen, rooted to the spot. I’ve been surrounded by criminals and killers my whole life. Have lived with them. Grown up with them.

But Callan is the most dangerous of them all.

He holds the power to break me.

“I’m not asking her. I’m asking you.” Unbridled rage fires in his dark stare. I wilt under it, my bones turning to ash. Game over. Please don’t hate me.

“His name is Tyler,” I murmur, watching him for a reaction of recognition.

“I know who he fucking is. What was he doing at your motel room after you left here with my cum on your tongue?” His nostrils flare, his breathing rapid. He’s jealous.

“I didn’t fuck him in my hotel room if that’s what you’re getting at.”

His gaze sharpens, warming and chilling me in the same breath. “Not how Georgina tells it.”

I frantically try to control my breathing, but it’s impossible with his wrath bearing down on me. He’s such a formidable man it’s hard not to crumble beneath him. Fear roots itself in my chest, expanding like a weed. Not the fear of him hurting me, but the fear of him hating me. Seeing me as the enemy, even though that’s how I should see him. I just can’t.

“Well, you’re not asking her, remember?” I’m antagonizing foolishly. He could kill me right now, and I bet Tyler wouldn’t do anything to avenge me either.

“Rogue.” Icy fingers wrap around my name in warning, snuffing out any warmth. An ominous wave of dread settles in my gut.

“I know him. I saw his number calling your phone last night.” I grind out. The urge to put space between us and close it simultaneously sends a tremble through my bones. The glare on his face makes me want to weep.

“You’ve been spying on me?” The muscles in his jaw tic. The room shrinks, darkness creeping from the shadows and caging us in.

“It isn’t spying when it was accidental,” I bite out. None of this is the point. My heart thunders against my chest wall.

“How well do you know him?” His voice is a hoarse growl. His nostrils flare.

“Callan.” It’s a plea. Don’t make me answer.

“Say it. The gig’s up, Princess.”

A wounded gasp slips past my lips. The sting from him using my real name is potent.

“We were engaged.” I summon strength into my tone to hide the misery.

He steps back as if I burned him, his face contorting in disgust. “You were engaged to Tyler Tears Stratham?”

He spits Tyler’s Road name like it tastes bad in his mouth.

“It’s a long story.” The words stick to my tongue like tar.

“Shorten it.” Has this room always been this small? The dark green walls are barren apart from the video monitors on the back wall. They close in around me.

The wood floor creaks as I edge farther inside now that he’s no longer confining me. The air is thick, clogging my throat.

“I’ve known him my whole life. He was all I knew until you.” I stroke my fingers along the mahogany surface of his desk to stop myself from squeezing my hands into fists.

“He’s a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to look at a woman like you, let alone marry her. Fuck.” He paces, grabbing at strands of his hair, then throws himself into his office chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Callan,” I murmur, moving toward him, the ocean pulled by the moon’s gravity. Placing my hand over his, I bend to my knees.

He tilts his head, looking at me, studying, dissecting. His pupils constrict. His fingers curl around my wrist, raising us back to our feet. “Did he do that to your face?”

Crap.

“It’s not important.” And not the first bruise he’s left on my face. Tyler’s quick tempered and doesn’t like it when people talk back.

He takes my chin in his grip and turns my head, swiping my hair behind my ear. “I’ll cut his fucking hands from his arms and feed them to him.”

“Callan…”

Stroking his hand farther up my face, he pushes me against his desk. “Did he send you here?” His muscles coil beneath his shirt. His anger absorbs all the light. All that remains is the dark monster heaving over me. “To spy.”

Dread gnaws away at my insides. “No,” I cry out, clasping onto his arms to steady myself. Why does this hurt so much?

“Why the fuck did you come to Ray’s that night?” he demands, seeking answers.

“To get me here.” Tears burn the corners of my eyes.

“Here—with me?” Callan’s eyes search mine, the walls crumbling down.

“Yes and no,” I choke out, lies and truths clawing up my throat.

“No more games.” His eyes close. He rests his forehead against mine. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until I came here. How entombed I’d become just existing as Tyler’s fiancée, an extension of him. A pet in her sorrow-drenched prison. Being here with Callan, with Kitty, I feel free.

“I didn’t expect this to happen.” I exhale. We’re so close, I can taste his breath on my tongue. I want to consume him, claim him as my own.

“What is this?” His voice is full of pain, anguish.

“You and me. Us.” My chest constricts. The tears I’ve held back fall to my cheeks. I’m stepping over a cliff edge unsure of what awaits me at the bottom.

He swipes my tears with the pads of his thumbs, his brow crashing. Then his lips find mine, ferocious need consuming my mouth. Urgent and sloppy, our lips taste and our tongues dance. His scent overpowers me. Desperate need builds in my core, pussy, and heart.

We battle the reality, taking it all out on each other’s mouths—a war raging in our bodies. I forget my sore gums, my reasons for being here, who I am, and allow myself to feel him. His hands are everywhere, squeezing, caressing, discovering. A caged beast finally set free, wanting to chew me to pieces with his sharp teeth.

I want to feel every bite.

A rumbling growl vibrates his chest as he tears himself away. I mewl, reaching out for him. No.

“What the fuck is this?” He holds up the gun I had tucked in the back of my sweats. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“It’s to protect myself.” I’m breathless, my lips are swollen, and my chin feels chafed from the small sprouting of stumble on his face.

“Protect yourself? From who?” he asks incredulously. “Me?”

“You’re forgetting who you are.” A spark of fury flickers within me. Memories of everything that has happened between our clubs over the years barreling into me.

“Am I? Or are you forgetting who you are?” He’s back in my space, stealing the oxygen from my lungs. “Are you a Devil or a King?” Blood rushes through my veins, whooshing in my ears.

Once upon a time that answer would be the easiest question in the world. Devil! But now, now it traps me in a chokehold.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I whisper. Apprehension tickles down my spine.

“Then what was?” he barks, the vein in his neck straining.

“I just wanted answers.” I place a hand on my chest to stop it from cracking open.

The light from the security monitors flashes across his contorted features, making him seem more animal than man. “Answers to what?”

The image of Harley on that autopsy table explodes in my mind, lodging a rock in my throat. “To which one of you killed my sister.” A surge of agony washes over me. My body sags, the lies and fa?ade I’ve had to keep up seep from my limbs.

A hiss passes his lips. He drops his arms to his sides, his fist tightening around the gun. “What the fuck are you talking about?” The confusion is etched on his features.

“My baby sister, Harley, was murdered. Strangled. And her Devil tattoo carved from her skin.” Sickness burns in my stomach.

He blanches, shock widening his eyes. “And you think one of our members did it?”

“Yes.” No. Yes. No. Fuck! I don’t know anymore.

“Are you serious?” His eyes narrow. “Not one of my brothers. We can be callous—killers, yes Rogue but not butcherers of women. That sounds like the work of a fucking psychopath.”

“Isn’t that what you are?” I swipe away an errant tear before folding my arms and raising my chin.

The revving of bikes creeps in through a small window, echoing off the walls. “Is that what you really believe, Rogue? Because last night, you enjoyed sucking the cum from my fingers.” He holds up his hand before pointing to my crotch. “Two seconds ago, you’d practically come yourself. If I’m a psychopath, what does that make you?”

Throwing my hands up, I bellow, “I don’t know—stupid or maybe I’m just fucking horny.” Lies spat like venom. I want to shake myself.

A dark chuckle thunders through the air, a storm threatening. “Is that all it is, baby? You need a good fucking because Tyler has a noodle dick that goes soft every time it’s put in something warm?”

“That’s beneath you,” I say in a clipped tone.

“You can be beneath me any time you want. Let’s not dance around it, Rogue. If all you are is horny, baby, I’ll fuck you until you forget your name and send you back on your merry way down the aisle to get a new one.”

This isn’t anger. It’s pain. We’re both in fucking pain. His demeanor leaks with torment and indecision. “If I wanted his last name, I’d have it,” I say. “But I don’t because I don’t love him, Callan.”

“Then why did you invite him to your room?” His tone is ominous, pitch black, and dripping with malice.

“To find out why he’d called your damn number! You’re a King—the enemy.” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. Covering my face with my hands, I shake my head.

“And yet, here you are, weak in the knees for a King.” He chuckles, dark and unamused.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I bite.

“Tell me it’s not true.” He stalks me, a predator taunting prey. “If I put my hand in your panties right now, how wet would I find you?”

Soaked. “Too bad you can’t. I’m not wearing any.”

Lust brightens his eyes. “Now who’s the tease?” He scoffs. “What did you think? You’d dangle your pussy at me and string me along? To what end?”

“Fuck you,” I snarl.

“I’m right here.” He splays his arms wide. “Just tell me which hole to fill.”

The slap resounds through the room. My palm stings. My handprint is bright pink on his cheek. An animalistic growl booms from his chest. His demon is on the hunt. Grabbing my wrist, he smacks the gun into my palm, aiming it at his own chest.

“What are you doing?” My voice is weak, confused, scared. A bolt of panic streaks through me.

“If this is what you think you need to do, why you came here, then do it.” An unnerving calm washes over his face.

“Callan…” Terror paralyzes my limbs. I search his eyes. Nothing but pitch black.

“Do it.” He pushes his chest into the barrel, daring me.

Lowering the gun, I dump it on his desk and thump at his torso with my other hand. He’s an unmovable fortress. I’m so fucking tired. I’ve been tired for weeks. I’m losing control.

Since Harley .

Tears blur my vision. My head drops to his chest and I fist his shirt. “I can’t,” I admit. To him. To me.

He wraps his arms around my body, holding me. “Are you a King or a Devil?” he asks once more. A hollowness twinges in my chest.

Silence lingers in the room like a toxic poison filling the space.

My hands shake, I fill like the skin has been torn from my bones leaving me raw, defenseless.

“I’m both and neither. Someone killed my sister. Until I find out who, I’m just emptiness and retribution.”

I raise my head to look up at him. He tilts my jaw. “Tell me about your sister. What happened to her?”

My lungs squeeze. “She got murdered the night before my wedding. Nineteen years old.”

He stiffens. “Why do you think one of us did it?”

I slip my hand into the pocket of my sweats and pull out the patch. “This was found on her person.”

His brow furrows, jaw clenching. The silence is deafening. There’s something in his eyes…The air knocks from my lungs when I sense it.

Recognition.

He knows whose it is.