Page 53 of Royal Sons MC

Time could be yourfriend or enemy, depending on what was at stake. King shut down his computer, knowing the software Keys had installed would ensure nothing and nobody, short of an alien invasion, would get into it. He headed toward the back of the house and the door to the basement. He didn't sleep in the room kitted out as the primary bedroom. Safety had been drilled into all three Royal brothers since they'd been kids. He keyed in the code, unlocking the door to the lower level. The door that rivaled a bank vault slowly opened, lights flickering on as he descended the stairs. Luke had always joked that if King had been a medieval villain, he'd surely have been a vampire once he'd seen what King had done to the house's basement. What Luke didn't know was King and Duke both liked things a little dark and kinky, things that needed a safe and quiet place to play. Of course, maybe their baby brother had known and disapproved but didn't know how to talk to them about his needs. "Fuck, I could go around and around inside my head for the rest of my life and never have the answers," he swore.

It had been a little over six months since Luke had committed suicide. His little brother. The one he should've protected, yet how do you protect them from themselves. He hadn't even realized Luke had been hurting. Yes, he'd known Luke wasn't as hardened as he and Duke, Luke's twin brother, but he'd still been...Luke. He lived with Ivy and...his lover, Darian, but they hadn't known that until it was too late. The thought was still a hard pill to swallow. Not because King couldn't accept the fact his brother was gay, but because he'd lied. He'd hidden a large part of himself from King, Duke, and the rest of the MC. They were family, and family took care of one another. Luke may not have been a patched member, but he was King and Duke's brother. That made him part of the family of the entire MC, period, the end.

King's hand throbbed from where the bottle had cut into his palm. He went through the large living area at the bottom of the stairs, not seeing the space he had created for his pleasure. Off to one side was a small kitchenette for the days he didn't want to go upstairs. On the other side was a primary bedroom with a massive bed and its own ensuite to the right.

Inside the bathroom, he dropped the towel and the rest of his clothes next to the shower. He stepped in, letting the warm water wash away the day's dirt and grime. He wished the memories could be as easily rinsed out, but only time could deaden those wounds. After washing off, he stepped out, checking the wound to ensure it was still sealed. Placing a bandage on it was the only thing King felt like doing before padding naked into the bedroom and falling into bed. If luck didn't screw him over, he'd fall asleep without dreaming of his brother Luke and how he'd failed him. On nights like tonight, he wished drugs were his answer to help him fall asleep, but just like always, his father's face appeared with a white residue around his nose mixed with blood. The fucker had been big like King, over six feet tall while not as muscular. The bastard was known to be a badass motherfucker. Anyone who knew him said they didn't want to meet him in a dark or light alley. Not if Kingston Royal was after you. That was until he'd gotten hooked on cocaine. Those little white lines became his life, his obsession, his bitch, and nothing came between them, not even the MC. If King hadn't stepped in and taken over the club as President, many members would've been behind bars or six feet under, just like their dad.

King put both arms behind his head, ordering the lights off. He was thankful he'd had the forethought to install the voice-activated equipment. Of course, he had backups in case there was a power outage. He wasn't held to the need for electricity to keep his life running. Once darkness closed in around him, he could let his mind shut down like usual. Tomorrow, he'd work on the Ayesha problem. Yes, he'd already decided to take her on. No doubt she was going to be a problem. Mainly because his dick was hard just thinking about her and also because it was clear that whoever was trailing her had money. He wondered what she'd think of his primary suite in the basement, or would she prefer the one upstairs? King growled, fisting his hands beneath his head, and willing his body to relax and let his mind stop thinking of her.

Human trafficking was a huge business. King knew because they profited by getting girls back from some cases. What most people didn't realize was how easy it was for girls, young girls, to be lured into situations. Traffickers hire young men, or boys, who may or may not know who they're working for, to befriend these girls, most times using a picture or video against them to get what they want. They take their time, cultivate relationships, and identify vulnerabilities they twist and use to gain what they want. In Ayesha's sister Tiana's case, she's a lonely teen looking for love and missing her parents. Who knows what this guy had on her? Maybe she sent him naked pics, or he could've promised her things Ayesha couldn't give her. King had seen and heard it all in the past five years that they'd been helping to free young girls and women, even a young boy, from situations. Shockingly, it's not a particular class or race that gets caught up in human trafficking. Traffickers aren't even the scourge of society. They're actually intelligent, wealthy, well-educated individuals with criminal minds that would rival most serial killers. Hell, the last young woman they pulled out of a hellhole had been duped into believing she was in a relationship with a fucker for over a year, which wasn't uncommon.

The number of people, primarily females, enslaved by human trafficking across the country was upwards of forty million, which was why he and his MC did what they did. Of course, it started out for the money, and they still do it for that, but they also take cases like Ayesha's after those asking for help get the all-clear from Keys. When broken down the stats of over eighty thousand per state, and half were minors, with King's sister having been a victim, it was a no-brainer what they do, time and time again. They hadn't been able to rescue Maura, but he'd be damned if they didn't save as many as they could. The fact any number of kids could be sitting next to a girl who was being human trafficked made his blood boil.

"Fuck, when did I become a damn saint?" he sighed. Slowly, his breathing evened out as he relaxed, knowing the security measures he'd set up would let him know if anything should trip them.

AYESHA WALKED THROUGHthe house she shared with her sister; her heart felt heavier than ever. She hadn't realized how much stock she'd put into the rumor Chloe had spouted in her semi-drunken state. "Stupid girls and their stupid shit," she cried, tossing her purse onto the counter, swiping at a tear that tracked down her cheek, smashed banana between her fingers smeared onto her face. A dry chuckle escaped her, wiping off the mess with her forearm.

She turned away from the counter, jerking open the refrigerator, staring at the contents. A half-full twelve-pack of beer glared at her. Yeah, like getting wasted would do her any good. Heck, the way her luck was going, she'd end up walking outside in her underwear and giving the neighbors a show they'd never forget. Not today, Satan, not today. Grabbing a bottle of the water her sister swore had vitamins and other shit Ayesha was sure was just a gimmick. She headed toward her bedroom, grabbing her purse as she went. Another tear leaked from her eye. "God, I hate the silence as much as I hated all the chaos," she swore.

As she passed her sister's bedroom door, the urge to open it and see if she'd returned had her twisting the knob. The Tiffany blue room looked exactly like it had when Tiana left for school just a short time ago. Her bed was made like she planned to return after school. The plethora of makeup was put away in their spot. For a sixteen-year-old girl, her sister was usually as neat as a pin, always preferring to put things away. Ayesha was the same, hating to come into her bedroom to find an unmade bed or things not in their proper place. Now, in the living room, Tiana had no problem leaving things lying around, but those were different. They had several throws and pillows, even though they lived in California. They kept their house at a nice comfy sixty-eight, which made it a cool temp for when they watched a movie together, hence why they would need a throw blanket.

"You have to come home, T, or who am I going to binge-watch Netflix with?" she asked the quiet room.

They shared a bathroom, but one was in the hall off the kitchen for guests. She went into their bathroom, looking at their robes on the back of the door. Tiana's was pink and fluffy, while Ayesha's was black with teal silk edges. Again, their differences were glaring. Tiana should be in her room reading a book or watching some YouTube video, not off with some guy—the thought of what could be happening to her sister stopped her. "Please be safe, T. I'll find you." She gripped the edge of the sink, staring at her reflection, seeing the lines of worry etched on her forehead.

"No wonder King didn't want me." Hell, she didn't want him either. Liar, her subconscious mocked her.

With a swipe of her hand, she knocked off several bottles from the cabinet. Seeing the mess she created, a hysterical laugh bubbled up. Before she knew it, she was laughing, crying as she slid down, her ass hitting the tile floor. She brought her knees up to her chest, hating the absolute desperation that filled every inch of her being with no real sense of direction. Her one and only hope seemed to have been a dead end. Laying her forehead against her knees, she let herself cry. Let herself feel pity for the first time since she found Tiana gone and realized what had happened. After what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was probably only minutes later, she pulled herself up, rolled her shoulders back, turned the water on, washed the banana mess from her hand, and splashed her face with the cold water.

Tomorrow, she'd wake up and find a new direction.

Tomorrow, she'd find another way to track her sister and the bastard who pretended to be someone he wasn't. She may be a hair stylist, but she wasn't stupid. Her mind was already thinking of ways to track him. Surely, there was someone who'd be willing to look into her situation. God, she wished their parents were still alive.

Back in her room, everything was perfect, done in soft, muted colors, unlike in Tiana's room with its brighter blue with black accents. She turned back around, wanting to have something of her sister with her. She grabbed the fluffy robe off the back of the door. Tiana's scent clung to it. She fought back the sob that threatened to overwhelm her. "No, only one breakdown is allowed," she told herself, returning the robe to her room. Slowly, she undressed in the walk-in closet, putting on her favorite pajamas with the robe over it. Once she had her dirty clothes in the correct hampers, she returned to her room, taking the decorative pillows off one at a time. It was a process that had driven her husband crazy during their short time together.

After she was done, she rolled the comforter back, placing it on the bench at the foot of her bed. She wondered if King was fastidious about his bed, smiling as she thought it. No, she imagined the big man was more than likely a caveman when it came to bed. Hell, he probably had only a fitted sheet with a cover at the most, and that was only if he had a housekeeper. She honestly couldn't imagine the man caring about such things. She shook herself. Why should she care what he did or didn't have in his home? It wasn't like she'd ever see him again after tonight's fiasco. She was lucky to have made it out of his clubhouse without getting herself in big trouble, unlike the one they'd called Groot or whatever his name was. A shudder wracked her when she pictured the beatdown he'd gotten by King's brother. Yeah, she was lucky to have escaped relatively unharmed.

She climbed into bed, feeling like she'd worked a sixteen-hour shift on her feet without a break. Her eyes felt gritty from her crying jag, and her heart felt heavy, yet here she was thinking about a man who gave zero fucks about anyone but his precious club. A shiver rolled through her at the intensity she'd witnessed in King's eyes when he spoke. What would it have been like if he'd put that intensity on her?

"Stop that," she warned herself. Nothing good could come from anything with the big man and his club. Hell, hadn't she seen a man literally being forced out of the clubhouse, bleeding and cursing while nobody had tried to help him? Yeah, she should count her blessings instead of being upset King was a dick. "I bet he has an epic dick, though," she whispered, groaning because she could only imagine the smug smile he'd have if he was aware of her thoughts. She promised herself she would not go there, reaching for the remote on the bedside table. With the push of a button, the room went dark. Ayesha was used to falling directly to sleep once she lay down, and tonight was no different, a blessing she was thankful for.

DUKE WATCHED THE LITTLEwoman slide down the wall, her silent cries tearing at his frozen heart. Hell, he almost busted into the house to offer her a brotherly hug. Still, there was a sneaking suspicion his big brother would beat the ever-loving shit out of him or try to. He waited, making sure she pulled herself together, and then eased back into the shadows, his MC brothers close behind him.

"You gonna tell your brother about that?"

He shook his head, not surprised to find Traeger there. "Not tonight. I have a feeling there will be a few sleepless nights in his future. I figure I'll give him tonight on me."

Traeger slapped him on the shoulder. "Mighty big of you, Duke."

Duke nodded. "Everything is big about me." He grinned in the darkness, waiting for the lights to go out. They'd keep watch in case anyone decided to pay their little lady a visit. He'd seen her security alarm lights come on. She had a good system that most couldn't penetrate without all kinds of alarms going off. Yet they all knew a determined person could get through. Shit, they had Keys that could get them into any place they wanted, including the little stylist's home, without so much as a peep to alert her. To think others couldn't do the same would be crazy. King and he were far from ignorant. They'd learned at the knees of their bastard of a father how not to be stupid. Stupid got you kicked, hit, and, in some situations, dead. Nope, he preferred to be on the other side of the dumbshit they'd been called, thank you very fucking much.

"Ah, lookie there. Our little lady's got a late-night visitor." Traeger tilted his head toward the street.

A black SUV rolled by. The engine was barely audible, and the tinted windows kept them from seeing who was inside. Duke and the others were hidden behind some bushes. The neighbor beside Ayesha was friendly enough to have in their front yard. Luckily, they were also deep asleep and had no yapping dogs to give their position away.

The passenger window rolled down, giving Duke a semi-clear view of the young man. Fuck, he recognized him. This wasn't going to be good. Not good at all. He waited for the vehicle to slide by, hoping to hell the fuckers didn't light up the house with gunfire, but he knew from his watching that Ayesha's room was at the back of the house. Unless they wanted to send a message to her, they'd be stupid to do anything. However, he didn't put anything past the group Rico Trevino was associated with. Fucking hell, King was going to flip his lid.

"Is that who I think it is?" Traeger asked.

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