Page 113 of Choices

Me: Where are you? It’s not mine, Kit.

Me: Answer your phone.

Me: Let me at least explain. I DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS GOING TO DO THIS.

Me: Where are you?

Still no reply. I’m practically vibrating with the need to go find her. Instead, I’m stuck here with Claire trying to wade through the carnage of the bomb she just dropped.

“Rocco is out there. He’ll be worried if I don’t get back, Liam.”

“Shut up. I’m thinking and waiting on Callan.”

“Why?” She leaps up from the bed, her eyes going to the bedroom door.

Pulling my eyes away from my phone, I narrow them on her. “Because we need to decide what the hell we’re going to do with you.”

Her face drops, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, nearly spilling her tits from the barely there red bikini top. “I won’t tell Michael about the baby. I was upset and lashing out.”

“What’s with the bandage?” I ask, ignoring her bullshit. I can’t unhear the threat she made. She didn’t outright say she’d tell him about Nicolas, but her intent was clear. Being around him at all is bad enough, but fucking him? She’s lost her damn mind. Playing with fire, she seems to enjoy the danger.

Covering the strip of material with her hand, she shakes her head. “Nothing.” Her cheeks heat, and she tries to turn away from me. We’re in my bedroom. There’s nowhere for her to hide.

“Claire…” I growl, “what did you do now?”

She swipes her hands through her hair and tucks it behind her ears, lifting her chin. “I wanted my tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” Anger spreads through my limbs, tightening my hands into fists.

“My ol’ lady tattoo.”

This better be a joke. “Show me.”

Pulling the bandage away, she pouts. The dark squiggle of black ink is rimmed in an angry red.

Property of…

Snorting, I grind my teeth. I warned her never to ask me for the tattoo most ol’ ladies get to honor their men once they’re married. The only person I want to have my name is Kitty.

“They wouldn’t finish it.” Her lips twist, humiliation burning her skin to a shade lighter than her bikini.

Members have to be there to give the nod for these tattoos. Any inkers who value their business and life know better than to tattoo our insignia or road names on anyone who isn’t a brother.“It’s a good thing too or I’d have to take the tit you just paid all that money to fill.”My fucking money.

Blanching, her mouth parts. “I am your ol’ lady in the eyes of the club, Liam.”

Before I can formulate a response, knuckles tap on the door. “Cutter,” Callan calls out before entering without waiting for a reply.

Covering the black ink up, Claire gulps and takes the couple steps to put my bed between her and us.

“What the hell is going on?” he demands with a menacing growl.

I shift my stance and nod. “Ask her.”

“What the hell are you thinking?” he rumbles with fury as he steps beside me, our frames side by side, shrinking the room.

Claire’s bold demeanor vanishes. She got brave with me, forgetting who the hell I am. I’m a King before anything else. If she becomes a true threat, I’ll always protect the club first.

“Do you want to explain yourself?” Callan gives her the opportunity.

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