Page 2 of King's Reckoning
She heard the unspoken question: What makes you think we would even accept you?
From behind him, Darkness stepped forward, his dark eyes taking her measure. "King's my sergeant at arms," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "You got a problem with one of my men, you got a problem with me. So I suggest you start explaining yourself, darlin'."
Reed moved to stand beside King, watching her with a mixture of suspicion and something else—a grudging respect, perhaps, or maybe curiosity. There was something magnetic about him, something that drew her attention even when she needed to stay focused on King.
Rowan's smile widened, a challenge gleaming in her eyes. "Guess you'll have to wait and see," she said, her tone full of bravado she didn't quite feel.
King studied her for a long moment, his gaze boring into hers as if he could see straight through to her soul. Then he nodded, a single, sharp jerk of his chin.
"Prospects don't get to make demands," he said, his voice hard. "They do what they're told, when they're told. And they prove themselves worthy of the cut. If you can't handle that, then there's the door."
He jerked his head toward the clubhouse entrance, his meaning clear. Rowan felt a flicker of uncertainty, a moment of doubt. But she pushed it down, locked it away in the dark corners of her mind.
She'd come too far to back down now.
"I can handle anything you throw at me," she said, her voice ringing with conviction. "And I'll prove myself worthy. I swear it."
King's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile flashing across his face before it was gone. There was something in his eyes—a flash of recognition?—that made Rowan's heart race. Did he see her mother in her face? Did he suspect who she was?
"We'll see about that," he said, his tone full of dark promise. "Welcome to the Blind Jacks, prospect. Now let's see what you're made of."
Reed stepped forward, arms crossing over his chest. "I'll be keeping an eye on you," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Road Captain means I decide where you ride, when you ride, and if you ride. One wrong move, and you're out."
There was a challenge in his eyes that stirred something in her blood. This wasn't part of the plan. Attraction wasn't in her training.
Darkness nodded his approval, a small smirk playing at his lips. "King's in charge of the prospects. You answer to him, and he answers to me. Reed runs the road, so when we ride, you follow his lead. That's the chain of command. Break it, and you're out."
With that, King turned and strode back toward the clubhouse, leaving Rowan to follow in his wake. She could feel the eyes of the other club members on her, could hear their whispers and snickers as she passed.
She was acutely aware of Reed's gaze burning into her back as she walked, the intensity of his scrutiny making her spine tingle. Something told her the Road Captain would be a complication she hadn't anticipated.
But she ignored them all, her focus narrowing down to the man in front of her. The man who held the key to her past, to her future.
Her father.
As they stepped into the clubhouse, Rowan felt a shiver run down her spine. The place was darkand smoky, the air thick with the scent of leather and sweat and something else, something primal and dangerous.
It was like stepping into another world, one where the rules of society didn't apply. Where the strong survived and the weak were left behind.
And Rowan was determined to be one of the strong.
She followed King deeper into the clubhouse, past the bar and the pool tables and the groups of men in leather cuts. She caught a glimpse of a beautiful woman with dark hair, sitting close to a rugged man with intense eyes. The woman—Maya, she'd learned from her research, though she went by Eden now—was watching her with undisguised curiosity.
Reed had taken up position by the bar, his dark eyes never leaving her, tracking her every movement with a predator's focus. There was something about him that set her enhanced senses on edge—not danger, exactly, but potential. Possibility. Complication.
Rowan kept her head held high, her steps confident and sure. She'd spent her entire life preparing for this moment, training her body and her mind to be a weapon. To be unbreakable.
And now, as she faced the man who'd given her life and then abandoned her, she knew thatall of that training was about to be put to the test.
King led her to a small room at the back of the clubhouse, a sparse, utilitarian space with a desk and a couple of chairs. He closed the door behind them, the sound of the latch clicking into place like the sealing of a tomb.
Then he turned to face her, his eyes hard and assessing. "You've got balls, prospect," he said, his voice low and gruff. "Coming here, demanding a place in the club. But balls alone won't keep you alive. You need skills. Loyalty. The willingness to do whatever it takes to protect your brothers."
Rowan met his gaze, her own eyes blazing with determination. "I have all of that," she said, her voice steady. "And more. I'll do whatever it takes to earn my place here. To prove myself to you."
King's lips twitched, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Prove yourself to me?" he said, his tone mocking. "And why would you want to do that?"
Rowan's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment she'd been waiting for her entire life.
