Page 3 of My Prince

“Why me?” I groaned to the walls of my small rental.

The network rented out three small buildings, which were converted into tiny homes for the crew. It had been a rough adjustment for Garett and Mark, but I was right at home in my little home.

Each tiny home was painted a different color, and I was in the pastel blue one, sandwiched between Garett’s pastel green one and Mark’s light gray one.

The inside of each was identical. When you entered the door, there was a loveseat on one wall and a flat-screen TV with a bookcase on the opposite wall. A few steps past the couch was a small dining area and the kitchen. Up the winding staircase was the loft bedroom with a queen bed, closet, and dresser.

Past the kitchen downstairs was the bathroom and laundry room.

The bathroom was the place I loved the most. When I first saw the tiny home, I thought for sure I was going to be cramped in a tiny bathroom with a coffin for a shower.

Boy, had I been wrong.

When you walked into the bathroom, a stackable washer and dryer was behind the door. That was nice, but the clawfoot tub underneath the window made me happier than a pig in mud. That was the last thing I had expected to see.

A large vanity and sink were opposite the tub, and the toilet was tucked in the corner by the sink. Three of the walls were painted creamy white, while the wall by the tub was wallpapered with a black-and-white floral pattern with pops of gold and silver.

The bathroom was almost as big as the living area.

I freaking loved it.

After chasing the club around all day, I loved to come home and soak in that big ass tub with a glass of wine.

That tub made all of this bearable.

I dropped my notes on the table and stretched my arms over my head.

“Time to soak and chill,” I sighed.

It was half-past eight, and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my night wondering how I would get Fade or anyone but Pirate on camera.

I grabbed the half-drank bottle of wine from the fridge and filled a glass just shy of the brim.

Don’s demand for an interview with Fade was going to be a problem for tomorrow.

Chapter Three

Fade

When the garage was blown up, it had been a blow to the gut, but watching the bulldozer level it to the ground was something else.

Boone and Gibbs.

I had never known the names before they decided on a whim to choose our club to take the fall to make them look better.

The only thing they hadn’t considered was that the Iron Fiends weren’t known to get run over.

They may have gotten a jump on us, but we weren’t going to be the ones six feet in the ground when this was all over.

“Gosh darn, that is a big… thing.”

I glanced to the side when Adalee had appeared. “Bulldozer,” I grunted.

She nodded and licked her lips. “Yeah, that. Big.”

I studied her behind the darkness of my sunglasses.

I had never really paid much attention to her before.

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