Page 11 of King
“Are you fucking threatening me!”
She shakes her head profusely, taking steps backward.
“Listen, Janie. And listen good. I take threats seriously. So, make sure you remember who the fuck I am before you start tossing them my way. This is my last warning and I’m not going to say it again. We are not a thing. We never were a thing. You’re never going to be my Old Lady. You are a club whore and nothing more to me. It. Is. Done.”
“Over my dead body, King.”
“I can make that happen. Keep fucking around and I’ll personally make sure you disappear.”
She gasps and a look of horror blankets her face.
I turn around and walk out, not phased one bit about her threats. She can shove them up her ass. There’s nothing more for me to say. If she keeps pushing me, it won’t end well for her. I don’t like to be a prick to someone who needs help, but I’m also not going to stress about a bitch who means absolutely nothing to me. I drew my line in the sand. She can stay on her side and leave me the fuck alone and be grateful she has a damn roof over her head or cross it. And if she does that, then I will not be responsible for what happens next.
By the time I’m done dealing with Janie and her bullshit, Saint, and a few other brothers have surrounded both girls. I ignore the jealousy rising in me. I’ve already made it clear both girls are off limits, but I can’t help but want to beat everyone’s ass that made her laugh or smile.
I pull my gaze away from everyone gathered around them and walk to the Vegas Sinner who isn’t sitting too far from the girls at one of the tables near the bar. He’s scrolling through his phone, but he keeps glancing up at the girls ever so often. So, I know he’s keeping an eye on them even though they’re safe here.
I take the seat across from him, and Artyom, my VP, takes the seat to my left. Dagger looks up from his phone, eyes us, then places his phone on the table in front of him.
“The name’s Dagger.”
I stick out my hand and he grasp it. “I’m King, the Prez, and this is my VP, Artyom.”
“Good to meet you both. I’m sure Grimm gave you the run down, so I won’t go back over it. We don’t know for sure if the Bianchi’s will be heading this way. But we got a shitstorm back home. We just need them out of the way because we think they might come looking for them, especially with this info she gave us.”
“I’ve been informed.”
His eyes flick to the girls then back to me.
“Grimm’s little sister, Amelia Grace can be a handful, but if you give her a tattoo gun you can keep her busy and in line.”
“She can tattoo?” I ask with surprise. “Is she any good?”
Over the years I haven’t come across many female tattoo artists. It’ll be good to have a woman on board.
He nods. “She’s the best Vegas has to offer. As long as you keep her occupied, she won’t cause trouble.”
“I can stick her at my little brother’s shop as long as she’s here.”
He nods. “Good.” His eyes zero on the one I can’t keep my eyes off, then back to me. “I don’t know much about her friend.” He shrugs. “But I do know she’s a talker. Since the story is long as hell, I won’t go into detail, but the Sinners owe her big fucking time. She may not be connected to anyone in the club, but she’s family, and should be treated as such.”
His meaning is very clear. The goddess is protected. She isn’t to be treated as an outsider, a whore, or anyone off the street. She’s like a sister of a brother or an Old Lady.
“Anyway, Grimm said give him a call if anything comes up. We’ll send reinforcements as soon as possible if needed.”
“Sure will.”
He stands, and Artyom and I follow. We grasp hands and say our goodbyes. I thought he might go over to them and say something before he left, but he just glances at them one last time and walks out of the clubhouse.
Feminine laughter draws my attention to the woman sitting at the bar in nothing but an oversized off-the-shoulder light blue shirt withhashtagSmut Writeremblazoned on the front, gray yoga pants, and a pair of black Chucks. Her hair is cut short, highlighting her slender neck and collarbone that’s covered in a black and white tattoo that goes perfect against her deep brown skin. I can’t quite see the design from here, but I’d love to see how far on her body it goes. Her nude lips part in a smile at something Saint says, and her dark eyes light in humor. She’s stunning.
“Are you going to just stand here and perv on her?” Artyom asks, chuckling.
Reluctantly, I move my gaze away from her to focus on him.
“Fuck you. I’m not perving on anyone.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “If you say so, King. Just remember the directive you gave the guys at Church. And I quote, they’re here for our protection, not for us to fuck.”
