Blood (Kings if Sin MC #1)

16. Knives, wives and broken lives

CHAPTER 16

KNIVES, WIVES AND brOKEN LIVES

M y heart accelerates, pounding, loud and violent. “You know who this belongs to? Tell me,” I demand. A fresh wave of anger and strength pouring into me.

His head jerks. It’s subtle, but there all the same.

I knew it…

He attempts to snatch the patch, but I pull my arm back, clenching my fingers around it. “Don’t.” I warn. My eyes drop to the gun on instinct.

“Rogue.” He grinds his teeth, opening his hand.

“No!” I snap. “Tell me whose the hell this is?” We glare at each other. He’s the first to fold. Blowing out a breath, he pushes his hands through his dark hair and moves around me, heading for the door. “Where are you going?” I ask as he grips the handle. “Callan?” I swallow, picking up my gun. The metal scrapes across the wood of his desk in warning.

“Either use it or put it the fuck down. I won’t have you all emotional walking around my club with a loaded weapon.”

My mouth drops. I dump the gun and pick up an empty coffee mug, launching it across the room. It hits the doorframe, shattering beside him. The asshole doesn’t even flinch.

“You done?” he asks, a bite to his tone.

“You’re a dick.”

He swings open the door and ambles down the narrow hallway. The scent of toast and coffee wafts through the air, making my stomach clench in hunger. I follow him into the bar occupied by members having breakfast. Their attention shifts to our arrival, sensing the energy rolling off us both.

It’s a stark contrast being in here in the morning hours versus in the evening. There’s no music pounding the foundations, instead a TV is on. All the tables are pulled together to create a long breakfast table. I hadn’t noticed before that the walls are painted black with framed photographs of the club members adorning the space opposite the bar.

“What’s going on?” a woman asks. It takes me a second to realize it’s Kitty. She pushes out of a chair, discarding a half-eaten bacon sandwich, and blocks our path, halting our steps with a hand to Callan’s chest.

“Your hair…” I murmur.

She smiles and kicks a leg behind her, twirling a strand around her finger. “Do you like it?” Her hair is now pink and long down her back.

“It’s cute.” I give her a half-hearted smile.

“Everything okay, Pain?” Grease asks, looking between us. He’s bigger up close than he looked in the ring, balancing two plates of food in one of his giant paws. Poor Green has been nursing his battered face ever since the fight. With all eyes directed at us, I feel self-conscious. I must look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backward. Fidgeting with the hem of my top, I avert my gaze only to find Georgina. My stomach drops.

“Yeah, is everything all right?” she croons, leaning against the bar, her black dress matching her black soul. She had the cheek to call me the devil.

Crossing the room in three strides, Callan takes her arm and guides her away, whispering to her. She looks over her shoulder at me, a smile painted on her red lips.

Smug wench. Fuck you.

They disappear from view, leaving me with Kitty and a room full of confused bikers. I scratch at my brow and then cross and uncross my arms, offering Kitty a tight smile. Socializing is the last thing I want to do. I want to follow Callan and demand answers. Maybe I should get out of here and make a run for it. You came for answers.

“I told you not to fuck with her.” Kitty purses her lips, jarring me from my internal battle.

“Screw her. She doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. My mind is a hurricane of turbulent thoughts.

“Can you bitches scoot out of the way? I’m trying to watch the news,” Daddy huffs from across the room.

“To see if you’re on it! The women you keep fucking are getting younger as you get older, you old cunt,” someone belts out.

“Fuck you. I check their IDs before giving them the D.”

“An STD,” Kitty joins in. A bread roll launches toward her, and she catches it in mid-air. She stuffs it in her mouth and gives Daddy a middle finger.

“Still mad your brother won’t let you hop on the Daddy train?” he taunts.

I think I’m going to throw up.

“You okay?” Soft hands stroke down my arm. My eyes flash to Kitty, her pinched features studying me. My face must have paled.

“Fine.” Lie. “Are you?”

“I was looking for you. Cutter wants to see you.”

“Really?” I glance in the direction Callan went and nervously bite my bottom lip.

“Move your asses. Don’t make me get up.” Daddy growls.

“Or what?” Kitty grunts. A glint of silver whizzes past my face, right between the two of us, followed by a soft thump as a knife sinks into the wall beside us.

“You crazy old bastard!” Kitty bellows. “Are you insane?”

“I don’t know. I never got tested.” Daddy shrugs and fiddles with the remote, turning the volume on the TV unbearably loud.

Kitty walks over to where the knife is and pulls it from the wall. “I’m keeping this,” she says, then goes up to the mounted TV and snatches the cord from the wall, turning the screen black. “Come on.” She takes my arm as angry cusses follow us from the room.

Leading me down the corridor to Cutter’s room, Kitty doesn’t bother knocking, leading me straight inside. It’s a lot like Callan’s, with dark decor, a large bed at the center, metal cabinets lining the walls, and a flat screen affixed to the back wall playing an eighties movie. A large window floods the room with natural light.

“You look like shit,” I muse. Cutter lies propped up by a mountain of pillows on top of a gray comforter, his wound covered with a bandage. He’s a little pale, but still a pretty asshole.

He offers me a crooked grin. “Still breathing, though. Thanks to you.” He winces when he speaks, his hand resting against his bandage.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything. A flesh wound…” I drift off. Silence blankets the room, all of us knowing differently and contemplating what could have happened.

“How are you feeling?” I move to his bedside, resting my ass on the edge. I feel icky being here, complicit in his cheating. I don’t feel that way toward Kitty, though. Maybe it’s because he’s the one wearing the ring.

“Like a punk ass shot me.” He groans and gestures to a cup on his bedside table. A breeze carries in from an open window, ruffling his hair. Kitty jumps into action, fetching the cup and gently handing it to him.

“If it makes you feel better, you made it out better than he did.” The image of Callan slitting his throat plays on repeat in my head rent free.

“I owe you.” He sips from the cup and hands it back to Kitty. She’s at home in here, around him. It makes me wonder how long they’ve been seeing each other behind Callan’s back. What will he do if he finds out? He handled my news better than I expected. I’m still breathing, still in his club house.

“I’ll think of something.” I smile tightly. He’ll revoke that offer when Callan tells them all who I am.

Voices carry in from outside, and the door swings open. A tall blonde woman stands on the threshold. Diamond is behind her, holding her hands up and mouthing, “ Sorry ,” to Kitty.

I feel Kitty’s discomfort before her features pinch and she moves away from Cutter’s bedside.

“Claire, it’s been a long time.” Kitty forces a smile.

“Not long enough,” the woman retorts, turning her attention to Cutter. “I see they have you here and not in a hospital. Do you want to get an infection?”

“Glad to see you too, babe.” Cutter narrows his eyes as she sashays into the room, a black pencil skirt hugging her hips and a red blouse open to reveal a generous line of cleavage. She’s beautiful in an obvious way.

She drops some bags on the end of his bed then folds her arms, tilting her head to look me over. I’m still sitting beside Cutter, and I can tell this pisses her off by the clenching of her jaw and tapping of her nails on her forearms. Sensing the tension, Cutter clears his throat. “Thanks for stopping by, ladies, but if you could give us the room…?” Kitty shifts from one foot to the other, her hands clasping and unclasping like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

“Sure.” I get to my feet and take Kitty’s arm in mine, trying to still her fidgeting.

“Yeah, thanks for stopping by,” the woman says with a bitter edge. Her eyes drop down my body, her nose scrunching like she smells something bad. Fuck her and the uppity horse she rode in on.

“Rogue, this is Claire, Cutter’s wife,” Diamond introduces when we get to the door, sensing the tension rolling off us all. Diamond doesn’t hide the lift of her shoulders to Kitty.

“Liam,” Claire snips from across the room.

Kitty’s light dims in the shadow of this woman and I hate it.

“Sorry?” Diamond asks.

“His name is Liam, l-i-a-m,” she says slowly, pronouncing each letter.

“Well, I’m Rogue, Cutter’s lifesaver. When you lose your attitude, you can find me in the bar. You’re welcome to buy me a drink.” I grin and wave goodbye to Cutter who closes his eyes and mutters under his breath before I usher Kitty out of the room. I guess the bullet severed his backbone.

“Have I told you that I love you?” Kitty slings her arm around my shoulders and chuckles. The sound makes me feel less like I’m going to implode at any given second.

“You want to tell me about that?” I jerk my head, motioning behind us.

“Definity need alcohol for that conversation.” She shudders.

I gaze around the room, looking for a clock as we enter the bar. “It’s a bit early.”

“Five o’ clock somewhere. After the night we had, I think we deserve it.” She skips toward the bar and points to Daddy in the corner. “Plus, Daddy’s already drinking.”

He raises a glass of what looks like bourbon, the amber liquid swilling. “Gets the brain ticking.”

That’s bullshit, but who am I to argue with my elder?

“That was a low blow with the TV.” He grumbles. Craning my neck, I see the screen is still black, all he has to do is plug it back in.

“The next time you throw a knife at me, you better kill me with it,” Kitty snaps.

“I didn’t throw it at you. My aim is impeccable. Who do you think taught Cutter?” The image of the guy with the knife in his chest flashes behind my eyes.

“My brother taught Cutter.” Kitty reminds him, with raised brows.

Callan’s also lethal with a blade. I find my attention slipping to the door he left through, aching to know where he is.

“Who do you think taught your brother?” He chortles.

I want to ask if Kitty knows where her brother went, but I don’t want her asking any questions.

Is he in his room with her?

No. I refuse to be that woman.

“So…” I slide onto a stool, drawing her attention away from the old perv in the corner. “Diamond knows about you two?” The bar is smooth black marble, offering a cool surface to rest upon. It’s a different vibe in here from the nighttime, it’s quiet, there’s no sultry pole dancers or drunk members filling the dance floor. You almost feel exposed.

“She’s had to cover for me a couple times.” She chews on her nail, a guilty shadow in her eyes.

“Tell me about Claire.”

“It grosses me out, so I hate thinking about it, but Claire was my dad’s girl.” Kitty says it so casually that it takes a moment to register the words.

I jerk my eyes to hers, my mouth dropping. “What?” She doesn’t look much older than us.

“Yeah.” She shivers. “She hung around here as a club bunny.”

“Club bunny, like Playboy?”

“No, a biker bed hopper.” She shrugs. “Club slut. Comes to party and fuck bikers.”

“Okay.” Makes more sense.

Waving her hand in the air, she says, “My dad favored her over the other club sluts. She was supposed to stay loyal to him even though he wouldn’t put her on the back of his bike. One night, she got pissed at him and cornered Cutter while he was wasted. He said he didn’t remember, but she became pregnant, so my dad made him marry her.”

“What the fuck?” That’s all I got because that is insanity.

Reaching over the bar, she snags a bottle of whiskey and chugs it back like it’s orange juice before handing it to me. “Well, suggested he marry her. Cutter came from a broken home and didn’t want to raise a kid that way, so he agreed.”

The burn of liquor sends a hot path down my throat, settling as a warm puddle in my stomach. “So, she pretty much tricked him into marriage?” I ask incredulously. “How did he know the kid was his and not your dad’s?”

“Dad got the snip after mom had me.” She snatches the bottle back and gulps an unhealthy amount down. She winces, shaking her head, before slamming it down on the bar.

“But who knows who else she slept with,” I say. I’ve seen women like her try to trap members before by winding up pregnant. They’re ruthless in their pursuit.

“I don’t know. Maybe she did get a paternity test. Cutter loves the kid and doesn’t like to talk about it with me.”

“Just likes to use you for pussy,” I grunt. Her face blanches, and I instantly wish I could stuff the words back into my mouth. “I’m sorry.”

I place a hand on her knee. She shrugs her shoulders. “No, you’re right. I’m an idiot, but…”

“You love him.” I sigh.

“Pathetic, right? Here I am warning you off Callan because he doesn’t settle down while I’m with a man who does—just not with me.”

“I wouldn’t call him settled if he’s in your bed and not hers. Do they even like each other?”

“He tells me they’re married in name only, yet here she is at his bedside.” Squeezing her eyes closed, she drops her head to the bar. “Do you think I’m an asshole?”

“What?” I kick her chair, making it screech across the floor a couple inches. “No. I think he’s an asshole.”

“Why doesn’t your brother date?” The question comes out of my mouth before it registers with my brain.

Cocking her head, she rolls her eyes and shifts her stool back into place. “I don’t know. He acts like no one’s good enough. He once admitted that he knew who he should be with and was waiting on her.”

My chest tightens. My stomach roils. Is this a heart attack?

“You okay? What’s going on with you two?” She jumps up and slides around the bar, her eyes focused on me. Setting two glasses on the counter, she pours us both red wine.

“Oh, great,” I grunt, turning away as Claire saunters in. A few members sit at the back of the room, giving her appreciative glances. She comes up next to us and helps herself to Kitty’s drink, her lipstick staining the glass. Twirling a finger in Kitty’s hair, she sniggers.

“You’ve always had a quirky personality.”

“Leaving so soon?” I ask sweetly.

“Actually, I’m going home to get a few things. Liam refuses to leave and asked me to stay.”

“You never stay here,” Kitty says, her jaw unhinging.

“Well, he’s my husband, so I guess if he wants me to…”

“What about Rocco?” I watch them like a tennis match, my head swiveling back and forth.

“He’s with my parents for a few days. Who knows, maybe this will become a regular thing. It’s always hard to find quality time at home with a kid.” She winks at Kitty, and it may as well have been a bullet fired. The damage was just as fatal.

Kitty shakes her head and rounds the bar, jabbing a finger over her shoulder. “Shit, I just remembered Keg has an appointment for his shots.” She turns, then shouts back without looking, “I’ll catch you later.”

Claire looks me over again, doing a complete scan from my roots to the tips of my toes. “Who’s Keg?”

“Her kitten.”

Pursing her lips, she squints down at me. “Liam said you’re a vet.”

“I recently finished school, yes.” I swig my wine while keeping eye contact. She won’t rattle me.

“Well, it’s good you were with him then, but as you can see—” She wiggles her wedding finger. A band encrusted with diamonds glints under the lights. “—he’s a married man.”

Is she for real? By the attitude, I would have sworn she knew there’s something between Cutter and Kitty, yet here she is warning me off. The audacity she had after what she did to get the ring was astounding.

I place my glass down, and it clinks against the bar. “Let me be clear, I wasn’t with him when shit went down, just in the same place at the same time. And the last insecure snake who tried to warn me off got her nose broken.”

“Are you threatening me?” Her eyes narrow.

“I don’t do threats.”

“I’m an ol’ lady, you’ll do well to watch how you speak to me.”

“I don’t give a shit who you are.” Getting to my feet, I notice Callan pass by the doorway, alone. “You’re welcome, by the way. And good job going from a club slut to an ol’ lady. That’s a game well played.” Without giving her a chance to retort, I spin around, leaving her standing there red-faced with her mouth open.

“Callan!” I run to keep up with him before he reaches his room. He leaves the door open for me to follow. Once inside, he shuts the door and pushes up the sleeves on his tee, exposing his ink. “Where have you been?” I ask, my insecurity dripping through. I want to kick myself in the ass.

“Don’t question me like you’re my ol’ lady.”

Ouch . Guess I deserve that.

“Is she going to say anything to the others?”

“She’ll do as she’s told.” He empties his pockets and rummages through his dresser.

“Are you going to tell them?” I feel small, fragile, an ant easily stepped on.

“I don’t know, Rogue. What is it I’ll be telling them?” He snaps his head in my direction.

“It doesn’t matter.” I throw up my hands, and they crash against my thighs.

“Why doesn’t it matter?” He slams the dresser drawer closed, rocking the unit with the force of his anger.

“Because you know whose cut this patch belongs to.” I pull it from my pocket. We stare at each other, an invisible storm brewing.

“It doesn’t mean they’re responsible.”

Anxiety swells within me. “Tell me, Callan.” His silence is deafening. “Please.” I exhale.

His eyes soften, and he moves toward one of the metal lockers along the back wall. With a deep breath, he opens it and pulls out a leather cut. Nerves shake the bones under my skin as I take a few steps to where he stands, my fingers stroking over the empty space where the patch should have its top rocker. My focus shifts to the name on the cut. No .

President.