Page 146 of Wife Number One

“Saint View Slayers don’t,” Riot argued. “You might be sitting in the head honcho seat, War, but you ain’t my prez.”

War wasn’t happy. Frost rolled off him, and his fingers gripped the table so hard his knuckles were white.

Riot didn’t give an inch, facing off with him. “If we aren’t welcome here, we’ll leave. I didn’t come here to ask your permission. It was just an easy drop-off point to collect the women. We’re doing it whether you like it or not. The Jesus folk asked us to get them more women for their men, and they’re willing to pay for them, so that’s what we’re here to do. We all got bills to pay, War. We aren’t all you, shacked up in a multimillion-dollar mansion with your pansy-ass boyfriend.”

War stood, never one to take any mention of his family lightly. He towered over Riot. “I’m going to give you exactly thirty seconds to get the fuck out of here before I make you wish you hadn’t said that.”

But something Riot had said didn’t sit well with me. It took me a second to place it, but when I did, my blood ran cold.

Fang seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Kara’s people are from out Riot’s way.”

I shot him a look and then transferred it to Riot. “Who are they? Your Jesus people?”

Riot broke his stare-off with War, though he kept one hand resting lightly on his gun. “What? I don’t know. Live on some homestead in Texas. Guy’s name is Josiah or something, I dunno. Thunder did most of the back-and-forth with him.”

Fear seized my heart.

I didn’t believe in coincidences. It was stupid to downplay what was right there in your face.

These men knew Josiah.

And they were here for women.

I shoved to my feet and stormed for the door.

Behind me I was vaguely aware of Riot asking where I was going.

I yanked open the door only to be blasted in the face by music and talking and yelling and laughter. The room was twice as full as when I’d left, more people than I’d ever seen in the damn room, probably because it had started raining and there wasn’t much in the way of shelter.

Kara was no longer on the coffee table with Kiki and Amber.

Amber was on her knees, sucking off one of Riot’s guys. Kiki next to her, bouncing up and down on some asshole’s cock while a third guy groped her tits.

All around me, just like our parties often did, the clubhouse had turned into a “nothing was off-limits” gang bang.

We’d all done it. We’d all had women in this room, everyone getting off on fucking in public.

But today the sight just left me cold.

“Kara!” I said sharply, scanning the room for her, heart pumping with the fear I was going to find her in a similar position as Kiki or Amber or one of the other women wandering around in various states of undress and fornication.

My gaze landed on Aloha, Queenie grinding over his lap in a display that shocked me since they weren’t normally ones for public shows. “Aloha,” I ground out, trying not to look.

His eyes opened, and I realized how drunk he was. His gaze was unfocused, and he laughed. “Hawk. Can’t talk.” He snorted. “Hey. That rhymes.”

I glanced at Queenie, exasperated and awkward as fuck that I was trying to talk to her while she was impaled on her old man’s dick.

I didn’t want to see that. It was like watching my parents fuck. “Jesus, you two. Can you knock it off?”

She gasped, out of breath from her efforts, but then glared at me. “Hey. Don’t come up in here, giving me your shitty attitude about me getting mine. We’ve had Hayley Jade in our room for so long so you can get yours. We gotta take what we can.”

I made a face when Aloha dragged her top up, exposing her tits. Both of them laughed hysterically at my expense.

Oh, this was too much. They were both drunk off their asses, and Queenie was going to die of embarrassment if she remembered this in the morning. I sincerely hoped I didn’t.

But I needed her to focus. “Where did Kara go?”

Queenie shrugged and then pointed to the door. “Oh, wait. She said she didn’t feel well and was going to her cabin.”

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