Page 54 of Royal Sons MC

Duke grunted, words too much for him as he snapped a photo of the license plate with his smartphone. More than likely, the thing wasn't registered to the family, but Keys would do his thing.

"Let's go, I don't think they're gonna do anything. If my gut is right, I'd say they followed Ayesha to our clubhouse, and now they're checking to see if she came home alone. If the Trevino family took the sister, I'd say they've got a wire in her house as well, one that was set up before they nabbed the sister. Those fuckers aren't some small-time thugs. This is going to bring some shit from our past up that just might—it's not going to be a slide-in and out thing, man." He raked his hand through his hair, knowing what they'd all gone through when their sister had been taken, especially King. He'd blamed himself. The big brother's DNA was strong in him. Duke had guilt over her death, too, but he knew they'd done everything short of locking her in a tower from birth to keep her safe. Bad shit happened to good people. Even if Ayesha's sister had willingly gone with a boy she thought was her boyfriend, she didn't deserve what was more than likely happening to her. Honestly, the girl was undoubtedly in over her head and wishing she'd listened to her sister. Only now, she was probably scared out of her mind. They'd have taken steps to retrieve her regardless. That's what they do when they're invested in a mark. They take back what shouldn't have been taken.

"Let's roll. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day," Duke said, heading back toward their bikes hidden next to the neighbor's garage. "These fuckers really need to invest in a security system. This isn't the fucking middle of America where Pollyanna is the norm for fuckssake." He stared up and down the road, taking note of the neighbors who left a porch light on and who didn't.

The other guys with him grunted, swinging onto their Harleys, each pushing with their legs until they were far enough away the loud engines wouldn't wake the quiet neighborhood.

"I'm hoping a few ladies are still up when we get back. I need to get laid if we have to deal with those fucks," Gator growled.

Duke agreed but didn't say it out loud.

Chapter Four

King woke up with asense that the day was going to go to shit quick. It felt like he'd slept for days instead of hours as he tossed the sheet back, stood up, and stretched his muscles. First things first, King straightened the sheet and made his bed before going to the bathroom to take a piss. Once finished, he washed his hands and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to figure out what women saw when they first saw him. Ayesha had looked at him with horror at first. Once in his home, he could tell she wasn't as angry at him as she was at herself. The look of horror had been from what King allowed to be done to the little shit Groot. What she didn't realize was the fucker got off lightly since he'd been able to walk out the door in the first place instead of having to be carried out. An image of her big eyes, too innocent for his way of life. Hell, she probably only had sex the bible way.

"Fuck, I need coffee before I think about a little bit of fluff." That's what she was. Too soft for the likes of him. He liked women who knew the score. They had to be aware that he liked it rough, dirty, and often with no strings attached. Ayesha had so many fucking strings they were literally dangling from every inch of her. Instantly, his mind thought of ways he could tie her up and the things he'd do to her once he had her where he wanted her.

"Shit, I need to get laid if I'm thinking of fucking a chick who belongs in a country club, not a biker bar. The same chick who came to me to help find her sister. Who just so happens to have been kidnapped into sex trafficking, not help her learn how to scream my name when she comes." He ran his hand over his jaw, feeling the scrape of his beard.

He walked into the kitchen and prepared a coffee with thoughts of the sexy woman running through his head. He pulled out his phone with the cup to his lips, taking the first drink with a long sigh. Whoever said men weren't good at multitasking hadn't dealt with him, especially when he didn't want to deal with something in particular. He'd learned early on that he needed to have his mind busy, or he'd go stir-crazy. The ding alerting him to an incoming text was a welcome distraction.

"Fucking A, Keys." He read through the information, examining what Keys had found on Ayesha's sister. "Silly girl," he muttered. Not once would he consider it her fault, knowing predators preyed on young girls and found their weakness, whether it was for things they wanted or emotional connections. If there was a sliver of doubt, a good predator would see it, work it, and take advantage of it, just like they'd done with his baby sister. Not wanting to think of their baby sister, he turned to his coffee maker and filled his travel mug to the brim while shooting a text to Duke and the others. They had a few hours to get things in line for their new mark. He was going to pay a visit to Ayesha and see if he could head her off before she did something stupid. If his gut was correct, the foolish woman would try to handle things on her own. He couldn't allow that, and risk Ayesha's or Tiana's lives.

"I'm a regular ole boy scout," he muttered, letting the screen door slam behind him.

"What's that?" Digger asked from the porch swing.

"Between Keys and Duke, we have a good idea of who has her sister. Now, I need to go see Ayesha and get her to agree to stay the fuck out of it and let us handle what's about to go down."

Traeger stood beside Digger but was smart and kept his mouth shut even though King could see he wanted to laugh. He nodded and waited for King to talk. If King knew one thing about the ex-SEAL, the fucker could wait a long damn time.

"Let's go. I'm going to need you and your skill set, brother. I think shit's going to go sideways, and when it does, I'm probably going to need a good shot." King sighed heavily, knowing Traeger had his back, even though he hated putting that kind of pressure on his club.

Traeger had skills that weren't just riding his custom Harley and drinking beer, although he excelled at both. The brother was an expert marksman with just about any weapon that used bullets or had a sharp edge, but he could also take out a man with his bare hands or kick the shit out of them with a few well-placed kicks. Of course, King wouldn't ask him to do anything he wouldn't do himself.

"Shit, P, am I gonna need some gloves for this one?" Traeger asked, straightening from the wall.

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