Page 103 of Kings Against the World

“Baby, don’t be like that. Mistakes were made, but nobody’s perfect.”

“Your idea of imperfection might be too tough to swallow.”

“What’s the matter with you? You’re our daughter. You should be looking out for us. Not mouthing off.”

I close my eyes and force a steady breath before I explode. “I told you I can’t talk. Save the guilt trips for another time.”

“The light’s been cut off, Zozo. The electric company said we’re too behind.”

“I gave you money for that! Every single month.”

“Don’t you go raising your voice! Your father and I have had enough of your back talk.”

“I’ve had enough of you using me like an ATM!” I scream over her, startling two people who happen to be walking out of the store. But I don’t give a fuck. I keep going. “You want me in your life in any feasible way? You know what to do. Get clean. Take control of your lives. Then call me.”

“Zoe, please?—”

I hang up before she ever gets a chance to utter another sentence. The tension from the unexpected phone call wears off by the second. I stare at the gas station scenery for a moment ’til my gaze settles on pump number one.

Ozzie’s finishing up with the gas nozzle. He’s looking at the screen, watching the numbers climb. The setting sun casts deep shadows across his features, highlighting the angles of his jaw and the curve of his mouth. His tattoos look even more vibrant in the lighting, so many colors pitted against each other, a human canvas of vivid artwork.

Everything about him makes my heart race. I find myself smiling even as I wander over with my bag of skittles and bottle of soda.

Ozzie quirks a brow at me, snatching the soda out of my grasp to chug some himself. He returns it to me and asks, “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head, still smiling. “Just… thinking about our destination.”

He gives me a curious glance, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he screws the cap back onto the tank, swings a leg over the bike, and jerks his chin toward the empty road ahead. “You ready, Special Agent?”

I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his middle. “More than ever.”

“You know better than to bring in outsiders!” growls Mason Cutler. “And not just any insider—a fucking federal agent? What the hell were you thinking, Oz?”

Ozzie doesn’t back down. He squares his shoulders, his voice edged with steel. “I was thinking we need every advantage we can get. Zoe’s spent years tracking Boone. She deserves to be a part of this fight.”

Silver Kingman, the MC’s acting president, exhales from where he leans against the desk in the office. His arms are crossed, his checkered short sleeve shirt revealing hints of as much muscle and tattoos as any of the guys in the club half his age. He strokes the light silverish stubble on his jawline, his approach more measured than someone like Mason, who’s explosive and aggressive.

“I don’t doubt Agent Strauss has got skills,” Silver admits. “But we’ve got bigger problems than debating who belongs in this room. Boone and Wheels are loose. Which means our priority is making sure our security is airtight. That was the focus of this meeting, not debating the merit of some federal agent.”

Mason lets out a scoff, clearly unswayed. “I don’t give a shit about her credentials, Silver. We’re an MC, not the damn FBI. Doesn’t matter what she knows—she’s not one ofus.”

“I didn’t say she was.”

“Then what the hell is she doing here? In our fucking club? In our fucking office during our meeting?”

I’ve had enough. I take a step forward among the room of stone-cold, masculine, tatted-up alpha males. “Maybe I’m not one of you. But I know more about Asa Boone than anyone in this club. I know how he thinks. How he operates. His entire criminal empire from top to bottom. More than you, Mason. More thanallof you combined. So if you want to win this fight, you need me.”

Mason bristles, turning his glare on me. “Oh yeah? And what exactly does that mean to us? We don’t play by your rules, Federal Agent. Your badges and laws don’t mean a damn thing here.”

“Watch your tone, Mace,” Ozzie snaps, stepping closer. “Show some respect.”

The tension is razor-sharp, both men standing rigid, and for a second, I think this might come to blows. But then one of the men, Blake Cash, lifts his hands, stepping between them. “Alright, enough. We’re wasting time.”

Logan Cutler, who happens to be Mason’s brother, and who has been quiet up until now, nods in agreement. “Cash is right. We can’t afford to be choosy right now.”

The room shifts as Logan steps forward, stopping just at my side. He glances at Silver before turning back to the rest of them. “I’m going to be out of the picture as of tonight. Teysha’s due any minute and I need to make sure she has a safe delivery. That comes before everything.”

“Which means we’re down a guy,” Cash says.

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