Page 58 of Kings Against the World

It’s still hard to tell once we reach the spot I’m bringing her to.

A hole-in-the-wall taco joint called El Gordo Taqueria.

Zoe slides off the bike and removes her helmet with an expression that makes me laugh.

“Enjoy yourself?” I ask, stripping off my riding gloves.

“I might take you up on that offer for riding lessons.”

“Any time. You can pay me with a different kinda riding.”

I grin and wink at her as I head for the door, propping it open to let her walk through first. She’s trying so damn hard to fight off a smile of her own, shaking her head as she walks past me and mutters a begrudgingthank you.

We order the works—carnitas, carne asada, pollo, and chorizo. We’ve got a whole table covered in paper plates of the different street tacos we’ve ordered. I break out the Fuego Rojo Extra Hot sauce and get to work demolishing what we’ve got.

Zoe arches an eyebrow, unfolding her napkin first. “Spice fan?”

“You could say that. I’ve got some numbed taste buds, so the only way I taste anything is if I drench it in hot sauce. Plus, it reminds me of growing up in Cali.”

“You’re not from Texas?”

“Never stepped foot in Texas ’til right before I became a Steel King.”

“I guess I just assumed… aren’t the others from Texas?”

“Not just from Texas, they’re all from Pulsboro. Lived there their whole lives. Knew each other in grade school and shit.I’mthe outlier.”

“What part of California?”

“Newport Beach. Where childhood hopes and dreams burn in hell.”

She laughs, her eyebrow ticking up even higher. “I take it you’re not a fan?”

“I’d never return if I can help it.”

“What made you become a King?”

“I was already in a different club. Things went south. Me and a buddy decided to go rogue, searching for a new one. Then, uh, he got caught up in some trouble with the law. I was on my own,” I explain, cupping the soft corn tortilla of my carnitas taco. “I eventually wound up in Fort Worth. I ran into Mace and Cash at a bar and we hit it off. I was inducted not that long after.”

She nods along as I tell my story, grabbing the bottle of Fuego Rojo Extra Hot and squirting a generous helping onto her chicken taco. I fall silent watching her take her first bite like it’s nothing.

“Looks like I’m not the only one into spice.”

She wipes at her mouth with the napkin crumpled between her fingers. “That’s because you’re not the only one from Southern California. Pomona.”

“Zoe Strauss a California chick. I never would’ve guessed.”

“Probably because I don’t talk about it often.”

“Your family still live there?”

“Which is why I don’t.”

I finish the carnitas taco in three large bites and move onto a chorizo. “I pictured your family being like you.”

“You mean uptight with sticks up their asses?” she offers.

“You’re really gonna bust my balls about that every chance you get, huh? I was pissed and giving you a hard time. Even if you were uptight, after last night you’ve gotta be feeling a little less wound up today, right? Besides, when I said like you, I meant perfect.”

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