Page 5 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

“Clear it with your babysitter, and I’ll walk right out,” I shoot back, nodding in Gage’s direction. “But with the way you guys were pawing through my shit earlier, it seemed like you wanted me here. So I’m here. Deal with it.”

Ash glances at Gage, and I know he’s not going to fight his friend on this. Not after they all made that show of backing Gage up when he was demanding I come with them. So there’s not much Ash can do about my presence except be pissed about it, I guess.

Usually, the banter between me and Ash is lighthearted and sexually charged. This is just bitter and angry, more like how I get with Gage or Priest sometimes. I can tell that unlike the last time I lived under this roof, Ash truly doesn’t want me here. The first time, he was the one who stood up for me and tried to convince the others that it was a good idea for me to stay. Now he’d probably rather have me be anywhere else.

Well, too bad. He can take that up with Gage if he has an issue with it. I’d rather not be here either.

I look away from him and swipe the brush from the black polish bottle over my thumbnail, taking my time so that I don’t flood the cuticles or fuck up the sides. After a moment, Ash takes a seat at the table as far away from me as he can and starts playing with a playing card he produces from out of nowhere.

I can feel someone’s gaze on me, and I know without looking up that Priest has been watching us, observing the exchange between me and Ash. He always watches everything closely, taking it all in but rarely reacting to it in any way that anyone can really see. I hate that. It’s like he sees too much. Like he can sense all the bad energy between me and Ash and knows what’s going on.

For some reason, that makes me feel even worse. A sudden pressure squeezes my chest, and I slam the brush back into the bottle of polish and push the chair back from the table.

“You know what? Fuck this. If no one wants me to be here, then I’ll just go. I didn’t want to come here in the first fucking place, so there’s no reason for me to stay.”

Gage slams his hand down on the table, and everyone turns to look at him.

“Sit the fuck down, River,” he snarls. “You need to start being smarter about this, and you’re not going anywhere. If you try to leave, I’ll drag you back here so fast it’ll make your head spin. And you won’t like it if I have to do that. Believe me.”

There’s another spike of déjà vu, and I remember my first night here all over again—the one I spent shackled in their basement. I remember Gage pointing a gun at my head and saying he’d kill me, after I spent hours down in their basement refusing to answer their questions.

And now he looks like he’d be happy to issue that threat all over again.

The same as it is with me and Ash, it’s like whatever relationship Gage and I have built up over the last few weeks has regressed all the way back to the way it was at the start. Antagonistic and angry.

He’s on edge, his jade eyes simmering with rage and that muscle in his jaw jumping from how hard he’s clenching it. The only emotion I can read in him right now is anger, and any number of things could be causing it. Ivan’s body being back,mebeing back, him feeling out of control… the list of possibilities goes on and on. He’s probably just worried about Ivan’s death being pinned on him and his brothers instead of onmewhere it belongs, but whatever the reason, it’s clear he’s not in the mood to be fucked with.

I half want to fuck with him anyway, to see if he’ll make good on that threat about dragging me back if I try to walk out—if he evencan. But before I can decide whether to push his buttons and see if he snaps, Knox clears his throat, drawing my attention.

“Come on, little fox. You have to stay. We’ll help you find your sister,” he says, his voice a deep rumble.

He’s the only one who actually seems enthusiastic about me being here, and considering he went to all that trouble to hunt me down after I left and invite me to go to the gala with them, I guess that makes sense.

“Shut up, Knox,” Gage snaps, turning that fierce look on his brother. Well, not hisactualbrother. Only Knox and Priest are related, and they’re just cousins. But the four men are so close that they might as well be brothers.

“What? I’m trying to make her see she should be here. It’s better than what any of you guys are doing.” Knox glances at each of the other Kings in turn, but none of them look very remorseful for not giving me a warm welcome or whatever.

Gage just narrows his eyes, and I know he’s pissed about the idea of getting involved in more of my business. Hell, he probably blames me for the Ivan mess in the first place, even though I never asked any of them to be there or to help or anything. I was fine to handle it on my own, and they stuck their noses into it, so it’s not my fault if this blows up in their faces.

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Gage demands. He squares his broad shoulders and glares at me. I reluctantly sit back down, going back to painting my nails like there wasn’t just an outburst in the middle of it.

“Fine,” I mutter.

He’s agitated and angry, but tough shit. So am I. Nothing went the way it was supposed to tonight. I feel like the world is spinning out from under me, making it hard to keep my equilibrium.

“Why the fuck did Ivan’s body show up like that tonight?” Gage demands, glancing around the table now that we’re all settled again.

“Obviously it was planned,” Ash puts in, looking everywhere but at me. “A big night with an important reveal. Whoever did it wanted everyone to see it.”

“Question is still why,” Priest says.

No one has an answer for that. I certainly don’t. Ivan St. James is—was—a fairly powerful member of the criminal underworld, running his mafia organization with an iron fist and keeping the small fry off his turf. He probably had plenty of enemies, but he also had allies, people who relied on him for business or protection. Him being gone definitely upsets the balance of things in Detroit’s underground, so I can understand why the criminals left in the lurch might have an issue with it.

But enough to drag him out of the river and make a statement like that? Doesn’t seem like something a petty drug dealer or embezzler or whatever would do.

“Do you think the person who dragged him up from the river knows who killed him?” Ash asks. “I mean, it’s a message, right? It has to be. ‘Ivan’s dead, and I know someone is responsible for it. You can’t hide.’ That kind of thing.”

“It could be,” Gage agrees, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

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