Page 37 of You're My Person - For Always

Chapter Seventeen

Kingsley

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Kingsley walked to his motorcycle, needing to ride. After the meeting, frustration filled him. He was tired of changes.

It took one fucking day to put a target on Gem Haven. Somehow, Valdones Motorcycle Club decided to push their luck and sent a message that they were coming after Gem Haven.

It was as if taking out two Valdones when they decided to start fires all around the mountain wasn't enough to scare them away. The club would need to buckle down and keep constant watch.

Then, that fucker Savage had to open his God damn mouth. Kenna shouldn't be working in the bar. She could stay at the house all day if it was up to him. There was no reason for her to earn money.

Zane rode up on his Harley, parked in front of the bar, and cut the engine. "Where are you headed?"

"Riding." He threw his leg over the seat.

"Are you coming back soon?"

"Only because Kenna's here." He held Zane's gaze. "I want one fucking week of normalcy. Is that too much to ask for?"

Zane scoffed. "You've lived in Gem Haven your whole life. When has it ever been simple?

His brother was right. If it wasn't the club, it was something else. He thought it would get easier to have Kenna and River here. At least he wasn't riding all over, chasing Kenna.

Life in Gem Haven was far from easy. The constant threats and the never-ending cycle of retaliation weighed heavily on him. He had a future to think about now.

The most precious thing in his life was here with him, and he wanted better for her.

Kingsley revved the engine. The roar of the Harley gave him a brief moment of clarity amidst the chaos. Riding was his only refuge. A place he could escape, even for a short while.

He needed the ride. He needed to feel the wind against his face, the vibration of the bike beneath him. He needed to clear his head.

As he sped away from the bar, he couldn't help but think of Kenna. She anchored him, keeping him from losing his head—most times. Other times, she was the cause of the chaos inside of him.

He'd almost lost it today when he walked into the bar and overheard Savage talking about her. He would never share what belonged to him.

With each passing mile, the tension in his shoulders increased. The reality of Gem Haven's dangerous situation lingered at the back of his mind. Valdones Motorcycle Club's threat was real. They would need to prepare for whatever came next.

He stopped at the turn onto the county road and rode around the steel gate onto the forestry trail. He slowed his speed now that he was off the asphalt. The trail offroad was smoothed from the electric company coming in twice a year to check the wires strung across the land, but he wasn't interested in riding the line on his Harley. He wanted to make it as far as the mountain ridge, and then he'd walk the quarter mile to the hunter's cabin.

He hadn't set out to visit Zora. All he knew was that he needed to talk to her and see that she was okay.

His mother.

She lived close by for most of his life, but he had no contact with her. He wanted answers, and he wasn't going to get them from his dad.

At the end of the trail, he parked his Harley. Looking all around him, he searched for any sign that someone had ridden over the land lately. Big John was the only one who would come this way to check on Zora and bring her supplies. It still ate at him that the V.P. of the club never told him or Zane about Zora.

His dad still had control of those who would do his dirty work.

Sweeping his hair back, he took the skullcap out of his back pocket and slipped it on. He hiked, looking at familiar landmarks. There were signs of someone living on the land. Light trails that were no wider than a deer track between trees.

The crisp air carried the scent of pine and earth. Leaves crunched under his boots with each step, bringing him closer to the cabin and the answers he sought.

He reached the clearing where the hunter's cabin stood. It was a rustic building made of weather-beaten, rough-sawed lumber, blending almost seamlessly into the surroundings. A hiker or hunter could pass by it at a hundred yards and not see a thing.

Except for the flowers.

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