Page 27 of King
“Later, King.”
She heads towards the door, then looks over her shoulder, before she leaves, the door closing behind her. I groan, shaking my head as I pick my clothes up off the floor.
“I’m so fucking screwed.”
Chapter Nine
ALANA
IstumbleoutofDylan’s office, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. It’s been a while since I’d seen him. According to the chatter around the clubhouse, shit’s getting dicey in Oakland and Dylan’s been trying to find a way to handle everything including the shit I brought to their doorsteps.
It didn’t take too much convincing to let me get out of here for a few hours, as long as I listen to whoever he assigns as my chaperone, and I fuck him. Both, I’m willing to do. I understand his concern for my safety even though I don’t believe I need two bikers to escort me everywhere I go. One is enough. I don’t know if I’m just hoping Matteo has forgotten about what I did or just being naïve.
I make it up the stairs to my room.
Almost.
“Hey bitch! Who in the hell do you think you are?”
I stop in my tracks, then turn around. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes, but I keep calm, blow out a breath, and plaster a smile on my face.
Daisy already warned me sooner or later I’d have to deal with this woman. Apparently, she’s obsessed with Dylan. What the hell that has to do with me, I don’t know. We’re only having a good time, nothing more and nothing less. While it’s not any of her business what I’m doing with him, I’m the last woman she needs to be concerned about when it comes to King or Dylan as he insists, I call him. This thing between us is only temporary.
I watch as she walks towards me with a perfect stride in her ridiculous high platform heels. Even though I don’t like where this is headed, it’s impressive, I can admit.
Her stringy box blonde hair reaches her breasts that are virtually on display in the halter top that’s barely covering at least a double d chest size. Her clothes are way too small even for her tiny frame, and her makeup is way over the top, but who am I to judge. If this look works, good for her.
“Excuse me?”
I really didn’t want to talk to this woman, but it’s bound to happen. I’ve heard her sneers behind my back, which up to this point I’ve chosen to ignore. If she wants to be a bitter bitch that’s on her. I’m going to enjoy my life regardless.
Enjoy my life while I still can which includes fucking King and enjoying every damn minute of it.
“You heard me bitch.”
Her lips that are way too large for her face, purse, and her nose is scrunched like she smells shit.
She stands toe to toe with me, and because she’s shorter than me even in her heels I still have to look down.
“Stay away from, King or we’re going to have a big fucking problem.”
I hate stupid bitches like her. Who approaches another woman about a man? Most women take that shit up with their man if he’s fucking around. Her problem isn’t with me, it’s with him. And apparently, she hasn’t gotten the message he’s been sending her.
I’ve heard the men and women talk about the two of them and how he doesn’t give a damn about her. Apparently, it ain’t clicking if she’s warning me to stay away from him. And not only did Daisy warn me about Janie and her obsession with Dylan, but she also informed me, she pulls this stunt with every woman who comes in and out of the place.
I don’t know why he hasn’t put a stop to it yet. Maybe he does have a soft spot for her despite what everyone says. Who knows, but I know it has absolutely nothing to do with me.
Daisy explained the hierarchy of the motorcycle club culture when it came to the women and apparently, Janie wants to be Dylan’s, Old Lady, even though according to Daisy, that’s not even in the cards for little Miss Ray of Sunshine here. Janie’s nothing more than a club whore to him and I’m just someone who’s having a good time with a gorgeous man while I’m still alive to do so. But I refuse to let this bitch try to bully me into getting her way. She needs to take her grievances to King and leave me the fuck out of it.
“Look you need to have this conversation with Dylan…”
“His name is King!” she shouts, pointing her long red polished nail at me, only inches from touching my chest. “Stop calling him that!”
Yeah, this bitch is crazy.
“Okay.” I hold my hands up, trying to put a little distance between us. “Look, Janie. Your name is Janie, right?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know who I am.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I saw you the first day you came in here and had your sights set on my man. He’ll never want someone like you.”
