Page 9 of The Bonds We Break
With two men wearing patches like my brother did as Saint, the Iron Outlaws’ preacher.
Shit.
Did Ryker mention anything about his club stopping by when we talked earlier? Wouldn’t I remember if he did? My brother believed he deserved the punishment he received at the club’s hands. Rose and I thought it barbaric.
I try to think about where my phone is. I left it in the office on the ground floor when I came upstairs to shower.
Quietly, I slip off my heels and stay close to the wall as I step down the stairs. There are shadows being cast through the frosted side panels of my front door.
I step into the office and hurry to the desk beneath the window, but as I start to dial, I hear the door creak shut. Holding the phone to my chest, I turn.
“Boo,” says the man with a road name I recognize.
King.
4
KING
“Hello, Rae Elizabeth Miller. Younger sister of Ryker Miller,” I say as I take her in. I thought she was attractive in the image. Hot even. But she’s so much more in real life. It’s less of a looks thing and more of a presence. Like a flame sucking in all the oxygen.
Her eyes give her away. Diluted pupils mean fear. It’s so heady, I want to breathe it in. But she slips her heels back on casually, as if she had been expecting me. “Hello, UtherKingHills. Orphaned son and hereditary president.”
Ouch.
I tap a cigarette out of its pack and light it. I don’t need one. When we drove here, I thought about how this might go. How she might scream. How she might run, and I’d have to chase her—which, given how my proclivities go, I’d really enjoy. I’d expected tears, but there isn’t even a sheen in those wide blue eyes of hers. If anything, there’s pure defiance and a scowl that tells me she’s going to fight back.
Like the way she chose to mention the two things I have no control over. I didn’t have a say in my parents dying. And I didn’t want to let Dad down by telling the club I didn’t feel ready to lead them. Rae Miller is unlike any adversary I’ve ever met.
She straightens her shoulders. “I don’t let people smoke in my house.”
“I don’t let people tell me where I can and can’t light one up.” To prove my point, I blow a long exhale of smoke straight at her.
She doesn’t so much as move. Just lets it blow straight over her.
If she weren’t Rae and I weren’t King, the defiance might turn me on. But it was a long fucking drive from Jersey to Michigan. And it’ll be a long drive back again.
“We don’t have time for a pissing contest. You need to come with me.”
Rae holds my gaze, but out of the corner of my eye, I see the way her knuckles turn white around her phone, like she’s holding on to the thing for dear life. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need to go anywhere with you.”
I glance at the bookshelf full of fancy books with fancier titles. They all sound scientific and fucking boring. “You read all these?”
“From cover to cover? No. Some are research books.”
I run my finger over a picture frame. It’s Rae. With Saint. They’re young and at some kind of picnic. Saint has his arm over his sister’s shoulder. I flip it so it’s facedown.
“Look. Can you just tell me what you’re here for? I’m supposed to be meeting someone in the next hour. They’re going to worry when I don’t show.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder, and for the first time, I take in what she’s wearing: A simple black dress that is anything but simple in the way it hugs her curves. It sits just above her knees. Shouldn’t be sexy, but it’s hot as fuck. Delicate gold chains hang from her ears in an intricate pattern from the numerous piercings. Her lips are red and plump, and I can’t help but think about how they’re going to feel around my cock.
“You just became the insurance policy on your brother’s life. You’re going to come with me until such time as I feel like Saint has truly paid his penance.”
“Ahh, goodie. Broken men. My specialty.”
Her words catch me off guard. I expected tears. Fear. Pleading. “What?”
She widens her stance. “You heard me. Only broken men want to cause chaos.”
I step right up into her space, until her tits press flush to my chest, but she still doesn’t back down. Worse, she looks almost amused. Sure, I know it’s an act. I can see the racing pulse flicker in her neck, the way her breath is coming fast. But she has the same cool and calm demeanor of Saint. And thinking of him is all I need to refocus on why I’m here.
