Page 6 of King's Reckoning
They jogged to the main gate where three black SUVs were trying to push their way past the prospect on guard duty. Rowan counted at least eight men, all wearing patches she didn't recognize. Their cuts were new, she noticed. Too new. This wasn't an established club looking to make trouble.
"This is private property," Reed called out, his hand resting casually on his sidearm. "State your business."
The leader, a heavily tattooed man with a scraggly beard, sneered. "Just passing through. Heard the Blind Jacks were letting anyone prospect these days." His eyes locked onto Rowan. "Evensweet little things like this. What's King thinking, letting bitches into his club?"
Rowan felt Reed tense beside her, but she stepped forward before he could respond. Her mother's voice guided her.“Sometimes the best defense is making them underestimate you.”
"Nothing sweet about me," she said with a cold smile. "But if you're looking for trouble, I'm happy to accommodate you." Her hand drifted to the small of her back where her weapon was concealed. "Though I should warn you, I've got a nasty habit of ruining men's days."
The man's expression darkened. He took a step toward her, then froze as the distinctive sound of multiple guns being cocked echoed across the yard. Rowan hadn't even seen the other brothers emerge from the shadows, but now they had the visitors surrounded.
"Like the lady said." Reed's voice was deadly quiet. "We're happy to accommodate you. Your choice how this goes." His own weapon was drawn now, held low against his leg. "But I should warn you, she's not the only one with nasty habits."
A tense moment passed before the leader raised his hands in mock surrender. "No trouble today. Just wanted to see if the rumors about King getting soft were true." His eyes lingered on Rowan. "Interesting times at the Blind Jacks. Tell King the Devils send their regards."
They watched the SUVs retreat, maintaining their defensive positions until the vehiclesdisappeared around the bend. Only then did Reed turn to Rowan.
"Quick thinking back there. Most prospects would've either backed down or started swinging."
"Sometimes, the smarter play is letting them think they have the upper hand," Rowan said, forcing her hands not to shake.
Devils. The same MC that had nearly destroyed the club five years ago. The same conflict that had changed her father.
Reed studied her for a long moment. "You're not like most prospects we get."
"Is that a problem?"
"That depends." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "On whether you're really here to earn your place, or if you're playing a longer game."
Rowan met his gaze. "Why can't it be both?"
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "I'll be watching you, Rowan Matthews." The way he said her name made it clear he'd been doing his homework too. "The question is, will I like what I see?"
He turned and walked away, leaving Rowan to contemplate the double meaning in his words. Her first day as a prospect had barely begun, and already the stakes were rising. But she hadn't come this far to back down now.
In his office, Marcus King watched the security feed, his expression unreadable as Reed gave his report.
"She handled herself well," Reed concluded. "Better than most prospects with ten times her experience."
"Almost like she was trained for it," King said quietly. He rewound the footage, studying his daughter's stance, her movements—movements that echoed Elena's with haunting precision.
"Almost exactly like that." Reed hesitated. "You want me to dig deeper? Find out what else she might be hiding?"
King was silent for a long moment, staring at the freeze-frame of Rowan facing down the Devils' crew. Twenty-five years of questions stared back at him from the screen. "No. Keep watching her. Let's see what other surprises Elena's daughter has in store for us."
Reed nodded and left the office. Through the window, he could see Rowan helping the prospects clean up after the morning's excitement. She moved with the easy confidence of someone born to MC life, whether she knew it yet or not. Blood would tell. And Rowan Matthews had King's blood running through her veins, for better or worse.
"Make sure everyone's armed," King's voice cut through Reed's thoughts. He turned to find the sergeant at arms standing in his office doorway. "Devils don't make social calls."
"Already on it," Reed confirmed. "Doubled the guards, put eyes on all approaches."
King's gaze drifted to where Rowan was working. "What's your read on her?"
"She's good. Too good." Reed chose his words carefully. "Everything she does is textbook MC. But old school, like someone taught her exactly how things used to be done."
"Elena," King said softly, almost to himself. Then his expression hardened. "Keep her close. If the Devils are sniffing around, I want to know exactly what game they're playing."
"And if she's part of it?"
