War (Kings of Sin MC #2)

17. Traitor

CHAPTER 17

TRAITOR

“They let you go?” Kitty asks, embracing her dad. He’s much taller than her even though his clothes hang loose from his frail frame.

Grunting, he holds a hand to his stomach, patting Kitty’s back with the other. “It’s not jail, Kit. They can’t keep me.”

“How are you feeling?” Callan asks.

“Stop fucking fretting,” he spits. “Why is everyone looking at me like I have two heads?” A hard line smears across his mouth. His eyebrow twitches.

“Welcome home, Pres.” Green whips his hand out, holding it mid-air.

Jericho grasps it and shakes, and all the brothers in the room follow suit, a buzz whirring through the room.

“You want to sit down?” Callan asks. Jericho looks around his son, his eyes narrowing to two dark slits.

“I thought I made myself clear about you not being welcome here.” Jericho’s gaze crashes into mine, tension rolling off him in waves.

All eyes turn to see me wavering at the opening of the room.

“Rogue,” Callan hisses, coming to my aid, wrapping his arm around my waist to anchor me. “What the hell are you doing on your feet?”

“I wanted to see what the fuss was about.” I keep a pointed stare at Jericho. Busted up or not, I won’t cower to this man. “I shouldn’t have wasted my energy.”

The atmosphere solidifies. Brows furrow in confusion. Eyes ping between me, a girl who was once a Devil and their president, home to reclaim his crown.

“Quite the tongue for someone who can barely stand.”

“Look who’s talking.” I quirk a brow at the hand he has on Grease’s shoulder for support.

“I’ll be back in fighting shape soon enough, Devil girl.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“No,” Callan growls. “It’s not. You’re a King—a threat against you is one against us all.”

“She’s no King unless I say she is,” Jericho snarls.

“Daddy…” Kitty steps away from his side and comes to mine. “She’s one of us. We spoke about this.”

Jericho looks around the room. No one moves. No one speaks. The room is riddled with landmines and everyone’s wearing clown shoes.

Shoulders tense and jaw clenched, Jericho snaps, “Has every cunt gone soft since I’ve been gone? It’s time for a church meeting. I want to know what the fuck’s been going on in my club.”

Feet shuffle. Grunts and words mumble under breaths, bouncing around the room. “And you…” Jericho jabs a finger in my direction, “don’t get too comfortable.”

Callan jerks his chin to Kitty and leans me into her, winding his arm from around my waist. Taking the space up between his dad and us in a few strides, Callan squares his shoulders. Hairs raise on the back of my neck as the air is sucked from the room.

“This is her home. She’s proven herself—has stood with us, bled for us. Every brother here accepts her. You’re going to have to get used to her being around. She’s not going anywhere.”

Jericho slants his head to the side, looking around his son to me. I try to straighten my spine, looking pathetic in a hospital gown with bandages everywhere.

“When she’s proven herself to me, she’ll be one of us. Don’t forget your place, son. Your patch reads Vice President. Unless you want to challenge me, you follow my rules.”

“These are your rules,” Callan states firmly.

The air hangs over us like a rainstorm waiting to unleash its fury upon us.

“Devil girl,” Jericho finally says.

“Her name is Rogue,” Callan corrects.

“When we find this piece of shit boyfriend of yours, I want you to be the one who kills him,” Jericho informs me. “That will prove your loyalty.”

“Do you see what he did to her? She’s not rooting for team Tyler.” Kitty waves a hand up and down my body.

Gently shoving off Kitty, I take a few steps toward him. “Or what? Are you going to banish me? Hurt me? There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done. My scars have scars, Jericho. I’ve been to hell and back. I’ve faced down more than one Devil. Don’t tell me what I have to do.” I wobble, and Monster whips his hand out, gripping my arm. His eyes bore into mine, light gleaming in his stare. He bobs his head, encouraging me to continue.

“When I kill Tyler, it will be because he killed my baby sister. I won’t kill him for you. It will be for her.”

Something I don’t recognize flashes in his eyes. “He killed the girl?”

Thud. Yes.

“Church—one hour,” Callan barks, taking my elbow. “You need to get back in bed,” he says low in the back of his throat.

“Not in the clinic, though, Callan. I want to be in your room.”

At a snail’s pace, I hobble past brothers taking seats at the tables.

“Anyone else wondering if she’s wearing panties under that gown?” Green queries. A sharp clap rings out. “Ouch. What the fuck was that for?”

“If you have to ask, you’re as smart as you are pretty. And you’re definitely not pretty,” Grease grunts.

“Out of respect for our pres being home, I’m going to let that slap slide,” Green announces.

A small smile tilts my lips. The memory of Grease pummeling Green to a pulp makes my bones ache.

Once we’re alone, I ask, “How long was I out?”

“Twelve hours. Doc gave you something to keep you sedated. Said sleep is the best medicine.” Callan flits his eyes over my face, his nostrils flaring.

“I think the pain meds he gave me are the best medicine, but what do I know?” I say playfully, leaning into him.

“You should know my dad’s bedroom is next to ours.” He kicks a boot against the door beside his.

“Great.”

Opening the bedroom door, we move to the bed, and I sit. Callan messes around with the pillows.

“I could have killed him,” I say, the walls shrinking around me. “I hit him with the car. He was just lying there.” My mind plays out the memories like a movie adding alternative endings.

“You’re not a killer, Rogue.” Callan exhales, moving in front of me, stroking a hand through my hair.

“I’ve killed.” I look up at his beautiful face. An angel made for sin.

“Because you had to. Your hand was forced.”

“I want to kill him, for what he did. But in the moment, I couldn’t follow through.” Swiping a tear, I hunch my shoulders.

“When we find him, if you can’t do it, I’ll do for you—for Harley.” Warmth from him saying her name thaws the chill spreading in my chest.

“Did you check hospitals?” I ask, a lightbulb flashing in my mind. That fall off the car would have caused an injury for sure.

“We checked hospitals, jails, motels surrounding the casino, bus stations—he’s a ghost.”

“He’s hurt,” I state, sure of it.

“And like any wounded animal, he’s in hiding, licking his wounds. When he does crawl out, we’ll be waiting,” Callan assures me, dropping to sit beside me. Taking my hand, he entwines our fingers.

“He was willing to kill me. It shouldn’t shock me after everything he told me, but in my head, he’s still this person we grew up with.” The words pour from my mouth like a faucet I can’t turn off.

“That’s called trauma, Rogue. He groomed you from when you were a kid. You can’t flip a switch and make all the history go away. It’s going to take time.”

“And therapy.” I scoff.

“We’re bikers—the open road is our therapy. When you’re healed up, I want to take you away from here for a little while.”

“Where?” I shift to face him.

“Anywhere. You pick, drop a pin on a map. As long as it’s just the two of us, I don’t give a shit.”

“Your dad will love that.” I roll my eyes.

“Fuck him. It’s not about him.”

“Do you think he’ll ever come around to me being here?”

“He doesn’t have a choice.” Soft lips patter against my face, cheek, nose, lips.

“I’m going to put a ring on your finger, Rogue. Make no mistake. I meant what I said when I told you you’re mine forever.”

“I like the sound of forever with you.” A glimmer of light slashes through the darkness hanging over us.

* * *

I toss the covers off my legs and sigh, staring up at the ceiling, my stomach whining and gurgling. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. Callan’s gentle snores are the only sound in the room.

I’ve been in and out of sleep since he brought me back here earlier. He came and went throughout the day, and finally settled in for sleep an hour ago. Sitting up, I look over at the clock.

3:00 a.m.

Getting to my feet, I hobble to the door, looking over my shoulder at Callan sleeping soundly in bed. Hopefully, everyone else has gone to bed too so I can get a snack and drink and bring it back here.

I walk out slowly, using the corridor wall for support. The soles of my feet have returned to their usual size now that the swelling has ebbed, but it feels like I’m walking on sharp little stones every time I put pressure on them. I startle when a figure comes into view.

“Georgina?” I whisper-yell. Her dark hair swishes past her shoulders, her face paling when she sees me. “What are you doing sneaking around? Isn’t that Jericho’s room?” I ask, shock hitching my voice.

Her eyes narrow to thin blue slits. “Me sneaking around? What do you call this?” She waves a hand at me.

“I need a drink.”

“Maybe I did too.”

“So, where is it?”

“I drank it.” Why isn’t she telling me to mind my own business or go off and die?

Shifting from inside the room thrums through the door. It opens, and Jericho smiles at Georgina like she’s made of gold.

No way.

Georgina jerks her head toward me, and Jericho turns his gaze on me, pursing his lips. “What the fuck are you doing at my door?” Dropping his gaze down the length of my body, he sneers, “Trying to win me over with your pussy?”

“I’d rather be celibate than ever fuck you,” I shoot back, queasiness bubbling in my stomach.

“He wouldn’t want to fuck you anyway,” Georgina bites.

“Why, because he’s fucking you?” I should have put it together sooner when Jericho said the woman he was seeing preferred to meet at the motel. When Callan told Georgina to take time away from the club, that’s where she went.

“Are you going to run and tell Callan?” Her hands ball into fists.

“I’m not the one with loose lips around here.”

“What does that mean?” Jericho bounces his attention between the two of us. I look him up and down and snort. Shaking my head, an unamused giggle trickles past my lips. “Wow, I suppose a dog will always find a bone to chew on somewhere.”

“Are you going to tell Callan?” she repeats as she grabs my wrist and twists, causing the wound to burn.

“What the fuck do you care if she tells Callan?” Jericho narrows his eyes, lines crinkling around the corners.

I step into her, digging my nails into her hand. A shocked gasp whisps past her lips, and she releases my wrist. “Didn’t she tell you she’s hung up on your son?”

“Hung up on getting rid of you,” she sneers.

“Yeah, how’s that working out for you?”

“You’re like a cockroach.” Georgina glowers.

Turning to Jericho, she attempts to step over the threshold but is shoved back, the door slamming in her face.

A bark of laughter spurts from my lips. Her mouth hangs agape.

“I hope you still have your room available at the motel.” I raise my brows and pinch my lips in amusement, moving past her down the hall to the kitchen. A groan bubbles in my throat when she follows me.

“I was his first love, you know.” I turn to face her once we’re inside, moving around the stainless-steel kitchen island to keep a few feet between us.

“And I’ll be his last. This is unhealthy. You see that, right?” Grabbing an apple from a fruit bowl, I add, “It was pathetic weeks ago. Now, it’s just sad. You need to accept that you lost.”

Her phone makes a little tune, and she smiles down at the text message. The hum of the industrial-sized fridge freezer sounds like Keg purring next to my ear.

“Oh, hey, I thought I heard voices,” Tim says, rubbing his hand over the back of his head as he steps into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“I was just telling Georgina to give up already. She’s already lost.”

“Did I lose, though?” Georgina’s eyes flare. My apple drops to the floor with a thud when she yanks a knife from a cutting block and turns so fast, it takes me a second to register the knife protruding from Tim’s stomach.

“What the fuck?” I blanch, shock holding me hostage “What did you do?” A trickle of fear climbs up my spine.

“Nothing yet.” She turns on her heel and saunters out the door.

“Go after her,” Tim grunts, fingers curling around the blade. “Don’t take that out,” I warn, snatching a cloth from a hook above his head.

“I’ll be fine. Go.” He puffs out a heavy breath.

Dammit .

Dropping the cloth in his hands, I give chase, sprinting down the hall and ignoring the sharp stabs of pain through my feet as I bash my hands on every door I pass.

“Rogue?” Dodger calls out from behind me as I race toward the garage. Georgina’s dark hair flails behind her like a shadow as she takes purposeful strides.

“Help Tim,” I shout over my shoulder. “Kitchen.”

Bursting through the door of the garage, I draw to a halt, my lungs fighting for air.

“Are you insane?” I puff out, searching the space around her for a weapon.

Walking backward, she shrugs. “Maybe. That’s what love is, isn’t it?”

“How can you claim to love him and then fuck his dad?”

“You don’t say no to Jericho Cox.”

“I would.”

“You won’t have to.” There’s a confidence in her tone that turns my bones to ash.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if I can’t have Callan and this club then no one can.” She smashes her palm against a red button on the wall, and the shutter begins rising. I take a step toward her, my eyes darting to the opening shutter. The wind knocks out of me. I stumble and back up. Horror absorbs all the light in the room.

“You didn’t.”

Figures move beneath the door, pouring through the gap.

The Devils are here.