Page 25 of King

Knowing she wasn’t going to tell me anything more, I got to my feet. “Come on. I’ll take you.” Sending off a quick text to Scribe and a few of the others, I walked her out of the clubhouse.

Neither of us said a word as I drove her back down the mountain. In a way, I was thankful because she gave me a lot to think about. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I was right. This whole situation wasn’t about what Bailey knew, it was what Czar thought she knew. It all began with Dog. The old bastard was into something and he didn’t want it spilling over onto Bailey. That was why he sent the letter of protection. The problem was, figuring out what a dead man was into was going to be hard. Bailey didn’t know shit, only what Dog wanted her to see. He was smart about it too, because it saved his daughter’s life.

I didn’t claim to know what the old fucker was into, but I didn’t like a threat hanging over Bailey’s head. She was still young and although a pain in the ass, she didn’t need this shit in her life. The faster I could figure out this mess, the faster she could go about her life without looking over her shoulder.

The town was bustling with activity when I pulled in front of her shop. Parking my cage, Bailey removed her seatbelt and was about to open the door when two Harley Davidson Lowriders rode up, parking next to my truck. Both riders were unfamiliar, except for the Sons of Hell M.C. cuts on their backs. Watching as both men looked around the town, their eyes stopped on me and frowned. Reaching over, I grabbed her hand. “Stay in the truck.”

She didn’t respond.

Reaching for my cut, I opened my door and stepped out, never taking my eyes off the two men. Neither looked worrisome. In fact, one couldn’t be over eighteen by the pimples on his baby face. The other looked like a fucking accountant with his neatly trimmed hair and brand-new cowboy boots on his feet. What the fuck kind of game was this bastard Czar playing, sending a kid and some chump playing at being a hard ass?

“What are you looking at, old man?” the kid spouted off.

“You must be the mouthy one,” I smirked, as I took my time unfolding my cut before putting it on, saying nothing more as the two men got a good look at me. Neither seemed shocked to see my President’s patch, or that I was a Son of Hell.

Instead, they seemed relieved.

Leaning against my truck, arms crossed against my chest. I was going to play this out before I ripped these fucking posers apart with my bare hands. “Which chapter you with?”

“Los Angeles. Didn’t know there was a chapter here.” The accountant responded as he looked around my town.

“Been here since the 1950’s. You boys are a long way from home.”

“Got business in town. Czar didn’t tell us there was a chapter here.”

“Funny,” I grinned. “Didn’t know I had a chapter in Los Angeles.”

Both men looked at each other, confused.

Pushing off my truck, I walked over to the accountant and whispered. “Just so we’re crystal clear. There is only one Son’s of Hell M.C., and I am the motherfucking president.” Before either man could do or say anything, several bikes roared towards us, caging the posers in. Neither man moved as I ripped the patches from their cuts as the club’s unmarked van pulled up.

“We’re here for that cunt. Our Prez wants her.” The kid spouted. Without thinking, I grabbed the little fucker around the neck and hauled him from his bike as if he was a rag doll. “I can’t wait to teach you some manners, you little shit.”

Throwing the little punk towards Priest, I headed back to my truck to find it empty, and Bailey was nowhere in sight. “Get these motherfuckers up to the clubhouse. I need to check on Bailey.”

Walking into her shop, she was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, I walked towards the back, checking the stock room, when I saw the back door slightly ajar. Without thinking, I headed upstairs to her apartment and let myself in. I didn’t know what I expected to find, but it wasn’t Bailey curled up in the corner near the new bed I bought her, shaking like a leaf. Kneeling before her, I whispered, “Avonleigh?”

She slowly looked up at me. Tears rolling down her face. She looked so fucking young and innocent, but it was her tears that broke something deep inside me. I don’t know why I did it, or what possessed me to do it, but one minute I was kneeling before her, the next I was sitting on the floor of her shitty apartment with her in my arms as I cradled her close to me.

I didn’t know how long I sat there with her in my arms, but I knew it felt right. I’ve never given two fucks about seeing a woman cry. Fucking hated that shit, but there was something about seeing this woman cry that tore at my heart.

“Got several names, woman. Don’t know what to call you anymore. Avonleigh, Bailey or Venom? Think you might need to narrow it down to one.”

She chuckled. “Bailey is fine.”

“You sure about that cause Avonleigh is a pretty name?”

“I’m sure. My mom was the only one who called me Avonleigh.”

“Why are you crying?”

“It was just a shock seeing them. I thought I was safe here.”

“You are safe. You are under the protection of my club.”

“You mean the same club that threatened to kill me?” she countered, her snarky attitude returning.

Growling, I replied. “We gonna have that conversation again?”

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