War (Kings of Sin MC #2)

6. Choices

CHAPTER 6

CHOICES

“What?” Tyler and I say in unison.

“Kings are at the fucking gate!” Bear booms.

Tyler’s gaze cuts to him, his lips stretching over his teeth. “Wait here,” he calls over his shoulder. He’s out the door, closing it behind him, and I hear the distinctive click of the lock engaging.

Bastard . I swipe at the wetness on my face and launch at the door, bashing my hand against the wood. “Let me out of here!” I scream. I hear their footfalls fading. “No.”

There are no windows in here. No way out. It’s like a coffin, suffocating, the darkness consuming while the world outside comes to a head. I hated when he would ask me to spend the day here studying while he worked. Most of the time, he would just stare at me and use me for self-pleasure. I need to get out of here. He’ll force me into marriage and this room will become my tomb.

Callan bursts into my mind. He’s out there. He came for me. An overwhelming need blossoms within me. I need to feel him against me, soak in his scent, allow myself everything I’ve been craving .

Him.

Searching the room for something to hit against the door, I toss his furniture around in a rage of hopelessness. There’s nothing. Sinking to the floor, I clench my fists and cry.

The lock clicks, and I hold my breath as the door creaks open. “Jenna?” I gasp, getting to my feet.

I race toward her, and she shrugs. “I don’t want you here. Promise me you won’t come back if I let you out.” She twists her hands together, worrying her lip. Trying to stand in front of the door to block my exit.

“You already let me out.” I push past her but she grips my arm.

“Don’t tell him it’s me who let you out,” she pleads, worrying her lip.

“I won’t.” I snatch my arm back and race through the clubhouse, pushing the exit door open and tumbling outside, almost tripping over my feet. The Devils are gathered in the parking lot, keeping a safe distance from the gate in case anyone begins shooting through the gaps between the bars. Tyler’s eyes land on me, and he jerks his chin toward Carver. Carver’s fingers wrap around my arm, biting into my flesh. He yanks me forward, dragging me toward Tyler until we’re standing behind him.

“What the hell have you been up to?” Carver spits.

“Fuck you, Carver. I don’t answer to you or anyone.” His grip tightens, making me whimper. Dick .

“You have no business here,” Bear calls out to the army of Kings at the gate. The bird inside my chest flaps her wings against her cage.

Free me .

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Callan. My heart leaps. The Kings easily double the Devils. Bile burns my throat. This will be a blood bath. I don’t want that.

“State your business,” Bear commands. He’s the only one close enough to the gate to get injured straight away if shit turns bad. It doesn’t go unnoticed that Tyler’s not the one asking the questions. Inquisitive glances look our way.

“You have something of mine,” Callan announces, his words sharp, looking around Bear to me. The world stops. He dismounts his bike. Bear follows his line of sight and jerks his head back as if I slapped him. His name coats my lips but fade on a snivel when Carver digs his nails into my skin.

Tyler hisses, his hands shaking with fury. “You fucking him?” he growls under his breath, his eyes never leaving the King who came to claim me.

“No,” I choke out, tugging my arm free from Carver.

“There’s nothing here that belongs to you,” Tyler sneers.

Callan unsheathes his knife and runs it along the metal bars.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Pointing the blade in Tyler’s direction, he says, “You either allow her to come to me or I’ll come to her.” His tone is dark, laced with a deadly threat. “Through all of you if I have to.” The warning heats the air. Hairs raise on my neck. Everyone shifts, postures becoming rigid. My mind spins. He once asked me if I was a Devil or a King, and now here we are, both clubs witness to my response.

“What the hell is he talking about?” someone asks Tyler. I recognize his voice but can’t take my eyes off the man gripping the bars of the gate. I’ve seen the damage he can do with that knife.

“Maybe this entire time you’ve had the right idea, Princess. We should have taken revenge for Harley,” Tyler grits out. His hand hovers at his hip, where he keeps his gun. I place a hand on top of his and jerk my head. Light, confused eyes bore into me. “Princess…?”

“You’re outgunned and outmanned,” I state, matter-of-fact. “And I don’t mean in numbers.” I wound without weapons.

“Traitor whore,” Carver jeers, leaning toward me. “We should kill her and give her to him in pieces.”

Bear turns his gaze to Carver, zeroing in on him. “Over my dead fucking body.” Shifting, he angles toward me. “Rogue?”

“She’s a Devil,” Tyler shouts. He’s deluded, refusing to accept what’s happening here.

“No, she fucking isn’t. She’s a queen—our queen. Let her leave. This is the last warning you’re going to get.”

“Let her decide,” Bear booms. “Rogue?” he says again. I hate that this is hurting him. I feel like I’m betraying him, but I have to follow my heart.

I don’t belong here.

Not anymore.

Not without my dad, my sister—not with the lies and the man who wields them.

I take a step from Tyler, and he jerks forward, grabbing my wrist. Muscles coiled, his fingers wrap around the small bone, squeezing. “Don’t do this, Princess.” His voice shakes, eyes pleading.

“You did this,” I say, yanking myself free and backing away. Keeping my eyes pinned on him until I reach Bear.

Bear cups my cheek. “Is this where you’ve been this whole time—with them?” I want to take him with me, get him away from the broken, twisted club that was once my home.

“It’s complicated.” I sniffle, moving backward.

Taking my elbow, he asks, “What about Harley? You said they killed her.” His hushed whisper hits me square in the chest.

“I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m going to find her murderer. If it is one of them, I’ll kill them,” I promise.

“Are you sure about this?”

Nodding, I place my hand on his, urging him to release me. When he does, I breathe in a breath and walk toward my future.

Bear presses the button to open the gate, then looks away, disappointment written all over his face. “I’m sorry, Bear. I love you. And this isn’t goodbye to you.” I clutch my hands around my middle, trying to hold myself together.

Tyler strides in my direction, but Bear puts his hand to his chest, halting him. “Be sensible. We can’t win this,” he tells him.

Turmoil storms Tyler’s eyes, his hand so close to his weapon in challenge. “Don’t,” I mouth, shaking my head. “Let me go.”

“Never. I’ll be seeing you real soon, babe.” The chill of his promise chases up my spine, hovering around my neck like a noose.

Moving past the metal gate, tears leak to my cheeks. My chest swells. I want to run into Callan’s arms, but I keep my composure. Monster, Dodger, Daddy, Tim—they’re all here for me. I grab the helmet Callan offers me, and place it on my head like a fucking crown, before I climb onto the back of Callan’s bike. I made my choice. I may have put a bounty on my head, but this is who I am now.

A King.

And Callan’s queen.

* * *

I clutch onto Callan, never wanting to let go. It was reckless to come back to the Devil’s club. Flames lick at my anger. The thought of Tyler forcing me into marriage makes me shudder. Callan’s hand clasps my thigh and I squeeze my arms around him tighter. He would have killed them all to get me out, but I already have enough blood on my hands to haunt me.

Callan slows, pulling into a gas station. The song of bikes growling through the air warms my heart. One by one, they pull in behind us. I dismount the bike, and Callan follows. Turning to me, he lifts the helmet from my head and clasps my face in his palms. “Don’t ever leave like that again, Rogue.” Resting his head against mine, he rumbles. “I about lost my damn mind.”

“I needed to ask him. I had to know if it was true.”

“And?” he asks, those dark eyes boring into me. Absorbing every word, every action.

“He wasn’t interested in sharing the truth.”

“Did he touch you?”

Bringing my hands to his face, I smooth out the frown line marring his forehead, and I say, “No. He thought I’d still go through with the wedding.” I blink, rapidly willing the tears not to fall. I’ve cried an ocean lately, and yet the waves keep coming.

A deadly growl rumbles from his chest.

“I made my choice,” I choke out. “It’s you.” I grip his cut, my hands trembling, then turn my head toward the brothers waiting on their leader. “It’s them.” Swiveling my gaze back to him, I smile. “It’s us. I choose us.”

He crashes his lips to mine, claiming me, owning me, devouring me. His body speaks to me, whispering the promise of what’s to come. Pulling away too soon, he murmurs, “Let’s go home. I have something for you.”

* * *

Relief fills me as we pull up to the gates of the King’s compound.

I’m home.

Callan doesn’t park where he usually does. Instead, he drives to the far end of the lot, around the main structure. Only a couple bikes follow. My nerves jump around inside me like fleas under the skin.

Callan comes to a stop at a separate building detached from the rest, then helps me off, taking my helmet and placing it on the bike. “What’s going on?” I ask, cautious.

“You know I went on a run for a few days.” I jerk my head in confirmation. “Well, it wasn’t a club run. It was to hunt a lead.” Taking my hand in his, he coaxes me to follow him inside with Monster and Dodger, the only two who followed us, bringing up the rear. Apprehension spikes my blood. My muscles clinch.

“Callan, what’s going on, what lead?”

We move through a loading bay into another part of the building before coming to a door. Halting his movements, Callan cups my neck, stroking his thumbs over my cheeks. “If at any time you can’t do this, just tell me and I’ll take you back to the club, okay?”

“You’re scaring me.” My heart is in a vice grip. A cold sweat dampens my skin.

“Don’t ever be scared when you’re with me. I’ll always keep you safe. On my fucking life.” He presses his lips to mine, pouring all his emotions into me. “We got intel on a serial killer who meets his victims as blind dates, strangles them, and takes trophies.”

Thud.

My mind swims, static white noise whooshing through my ears.

“We tracked him to Oklahoma. He moves from state to state, avoiding capture.”

Sickness twists my stomach. My bones turn to ash. I struggle to remain standing, my gaze pinging between the three of them. “The FBI believe they can link him to six confirmed kills, but he could be responsible for as many as twenty-eight—all women under twenty-two.” Dodger sneers.

Dread engulfs me, staining all my memories of Harley. A serial killer? I imagine her fear, fighting for her life. The marks he left on her body, the pain she must have endured. Would she have known she was going to die?

Clammy hands clutching Callan and teeth bared, I ask, “Is she one of those twenty-eight?”

“They don’t know for sure. It might not be him.” Monster intervenes.

“But it might.” I swallow, my breath quickening.

“Let’s find out.” Callan opens the door and steps inside. I follow him on trembling legs. My hand flies to my mouth, smothering the scream I want to release as Callan says, “Meet the Blind Date Killer, Edward Jarvis.”