Alarick: King's Descendants MC #1

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Alarick: King's Descendants MC #1 Page 13

by Bella Jewel

She needs help, only I don’t know who to take her to.

  Is she in danger if I take her to my house, where King could be? Did he do this? Did the club do this? Or was it someone else?

  “I’m going to take you to the police station,” I tell her, my voice calm. “You’ll be safe there.”

  She doesn’t say anything.

  Whoever just killed her family ... killed her, too.

  TEARS STREAM DOWN MY face as I charge into the house where King and my mom are having afternoon tea on the patio. They’re laughing about something, I don’t care what, all I know is I want answers, and I know King has something to do with it. He’s here now, acting like nothing happened. How many times has he done that? How many times has he pretended not to be a monster when he’s been out all day being just that?

  “How could you?” I scream, making him jerk and turn around to see me charging his way with a red, tear-streaked face.

  Mom turns around too and her face becomes immediately worried as she stands.

  “What’s goin’ on?” King asks, standing too and facing me with genuine concern on his face.

  “Aviana’s family,” I wail. “You killed them!”

  For a moment, King looks truly shocked. No doubt he’s wondering just how I found out. He stares at me with a mixture of emotions on his face, but eventually calms his features. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Briella? You care to explain what’s goin’ on?”

  What?

  Excuse me, what?

  “I was there,” I wail. “I was there when you came in and killed her family. All of them. Then you left as if you didn’t just ruin her whole life. I heard them say your name, I know you were there. You took her family’s lives as if they meant nothing. You’re a monster. You’re going to go down for this, King. You’ll suffer!”

  Mom looks over to King and whispers. “Is that true?”

  “No, it ain’t true. I’ve been here all fuckin’ afternoon. No idea why she’d think I was there ...”

  “He’s right, honey, he was here all day. You need to calm down and tell us what’s happening,” Mom asks, her eyes a little lost.

  “They said your name,” I scream. “If you weren’t there then you were in charge of it.”

  “You need to calm down, Briella,” King growls, walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Now.”

  “Don’t touch me,” I screech, launching backward. “Do not touch me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Whatever night have happened is club business and of no concern to you.”

  “So you did do it?” Mom says, confused.

  “I’m simply statin’ facts, we’ll discuss it further later. Whatever it is, it’s for my club and me to work out, but right now Briella needs to calm down and we need to speak to Aviana before she does something that is goin’ to cause a shit load of backlash.”

  King turns and walks out, as if I’m not standing there sobbing.

  I hate him.

  I hate him so much it burns.

  I will never forgive him for this. Not ever.

  “Honey, you need to take a few deep breaths,” Mom comes over, gently taking my hand in hers. “You need to calm down.”

  “How are you not freaking out?” I sob. “Why are you so calm? He’s a monster, momma.”

  “He’s not a monster, but whatever happened is to do with the club and things that go on in the club are so much more complicated then you probably know. King is not a bad man, I know that, and we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

  “He is a bad man,” I say, horrified at how she’s defending him. “He’s a killer.”

  “He’s a biker, Briella. You know what they do is dangerous. He’s not ever going to hurt you or anyone he loves, and you know that. If those people got killed, it was because they did something to deserve it. It’s a world we can’t even begin to understand and it happens all the time. Now let’s get you a cup of tea and then we need to find Aviana and make sure she’s okay.”

  I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks as I look at my mother, horrified.

  She’s defending him.

  Saying what happened was okay.

  It wasn’t okay.

  It was murder.

  I turn and run out of the house. She calls my name, coming after me, but I don’t stop. I disappear down the street and run until I find a park where I can collapse to my knees and sob until there is no more sobbing left in me. Only then do I calmly get to my feet, dab my eyes, and flag down a cab.

  I need to be with Aviana.

  She’s the only person who needs me right now.

  I was going to take her to the station earlier, but she numbly told me to take her to a friend’s house until she could calm down. She didn’t want to come to my house, which is understandable considering my step-father is the reason her whole world just ended. I took her to a friend’s house, and that friend was working so Aviana had space to be alone.

  I told her I was going to confront King and then I’d be back.

  When I arrive back at that friend’s house, I knock on the door a few times before walking inside. The door is unlocked, but a quick look around reveals nobody is home. I call out Aviana’s name a few times, and then I dial her cell only to see it ringing from the sofa. I walk over and pick it up, glancing around again.

  It’s strange.

  She’s not here but all her things are.

  Did she go to the police station after all?

  I told her we would go together; I couldn’t see her just getting up and doing it.

  I get back in the car and go to the local police station only to find out nobody by that name has come in.

  Concern weighs heavy on my chest as I begin to worry.

  Has Aviana done something stupid?

  Has she hurt herself?

  Or worse?

  My best friend has just disappeared.

  I go back home and find King has returned.

  The moment I walk in, he comes over and, with a stern expression, tells me, “We’re goin’ to talk. Right now.”

  I do as he asks and follow him outside, my arms crossed over my chest, my anger clouding every emotion I’ve ever had for this man. Mostly because I want to know where Aviana is, but also because right now I have nowhere else to go and I want answers.

  “Where is Aviana?” he asks me, his face tight.

  I narrow my eyes, a little confused. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Fuck,” he barks. “Fuck, this is why you don’t go runnin’ around screamin’ that she saw a fuckin’ murder. That shit gets you into trouble. Aviana is in trouble.”

  My face drains of all its color. “We never told anyone, I came straight here and told you. I took her to a friend’s house ... I don’t think she spoke to anyone ... I don’t know what happened after I left ...”

  “Somethin’ fuckin’ happened because that girl is now missin’ and she’s likely in danger.”

  “How do I know you didn’t take her?” I snap. “After all, your club is the one who will suffer if she goes to the police.”

  He glares at me with a look so hard, I flinch. “I’m not a fuckin’ kidnapper. What happened in that house had nothin’ to do with Aviana and I’m sorry she saw whatever she saw. But you gotta know this, I would never lay a hand on her and I would never allow her to get hurt. My only concern right now is finding her because she’s in fuckin’ danger.”

  My chest clenches.

  She’s in danger.

  If that’s the case, we need to find her.

  I need to put everything else aside and find her before it’s too late.

  Oh, Avi.

  I’m so sorry.

  14

  NOW – BRIELLA

  “I went to the police station and spoke to Constable Bennett. I don’t think he’s got anything to do with it. He said he was getting Magnolia to help him find some information because he busted her for drug possession. He said after he was
done with her, that she disappeared but he has no idea where.”

  Alarick stares at me, his face blank. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me right now, aren’t you?”

  “No,” I murmur, a little confused. “No, I’m not.”

  “You have to be fuckin’ joking.”

  I blink. “I’m not joking, Alarick. Why are you getting so upset about it?”

  “You went to the fuckin’ police station to question someone we’re fairly certain is fuckin’ workin’ with bad people, and told them exactly what and who you were looking for?”

  I bite my bottom lip—I had a feeling this would backfire on me.

  Alarick turns around and bellows loudly, before swiping his hand across the bar and sending glass flying off the counter and onto the floor.

  I glance over at Cohen, who shakes his head at me in disappointment. Oh, boy, I really did fuck up, didn’t I?

  “What made you think to do somethin’ like that?” Mykel asks, his voice a little kinder.

  “I thought it would help. I thought if I just went in there and asked a few questions I might find something out. Karen said maybe we were looking at it all wrong, and it made sense. Constable Bennett backed up the story, even though he was a major douche ...”

  “Constable Bennett is a fuckin’ liar and you just let him know he’s bein’ watched. What do you think is goin’ to happen now?” Alarick thunders, clenching his fists. “How fuckin’ stupid are you, Briella? I told you not to come in here and fuck shit up, and that’s exactly what you’re doin’, again ...”

  Again.

  He can’t be serious?

  He’s choosing right now to throw the past in my face.

  He’s choosing right now to air out our dirty laundry?

  Fine.

  So be it.

  “Don’t you dare bring up the past, Alarick. That has absolutely nothing to fucking do with what’s going on here. What happened back then is entirely different, and if you’ve got an issue with it, then you can talk to me about it when we deal with this.”

  “When we deal with the mess you created, yet a-fuckin’-gain.”

  I’ve had enough of this man.

  “You know what? Fuck you. If you’ve got a problem with me, you come right out and say it, but I won’t stand around and be treated like shit for a second longer.”

  “I do have a problem,” he growls. “I have a problem with you bein’ here after you fucked off and left us alone. I have a problem with you throwin’ your weight around, tryin’ to get things to go your way in a club I fight daily to protect. I have a problem with the fact that you just signed your sister’s death warrant ...”

  That last part feels like a slap in the face.

  I gasp and take a step backward, tears burning my eyelids. How dare he? How. Dare. He.

  “You’re a monster,” I whisper and then turn and exit the club as quickly as I can.

  I run outside and toward the back shed, because right now I don’t have a fucking care because I came here with Cohen today, thinking I’d probably be here for a few hours. I’m so angry, so bitterly disappointed, and so sick of being treated the way I’m being treated. Mostly, I’m scared that Alarick is right, that I’ll be the reason Magnolia gets hurt.

  What have I done?

  I reach the shed and press my back to it, tears rolling down my face. Lightning skitters around in the distance and the deep rumble of thunder can be heard. The smell of rain lingers in the air and I know I’m about to get very, very wet if I stay out here. I stare down at my feet and tears streak my cheeks as I wonder what the ever-loving hell I’m supposed to do now?

  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  I jerk my head up and see Alarick staring at me, his face still hard, his body still tight.

  “Leave me the fuck alone, Alarick. You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me.”

  “You put my club in danger, your sister in danger ...”

  “Leave me alone!” I yell, shoving him so hard and yet he doesn’t seem to move. So, I shove him again, and again, screaming angrily.

  He’s hurting me.

  He hurt me back then and he’s hurting me now.

  “Fuck you,” I cry, slamming my small fists into his chest. “You’re a monster just like your father, and you’re once again making me doubt myself, making me doubt everything. You never have my back. You never have my fucking back!”

  “Stop,” he growls, grabbing my hands tightly. “That’s enough.”

  “That’s enough?” I laugh bitterly. “It’s never enough, Alarick. You hate me so much? Fine, then do something about it. Scream at me, yell at me, tell me why, but don’t you stand there treating me like I don’t matter. You fucking ... jerk!”

  “Enough,” he growls again, low and deep.

  “No,” I snarl. “No.”

  I raise a hand to hit him again, but he stops me, curling his big hand over my fist and stopping me. Then, he tugs me forward. I go crashing into him, slamming into his body, and then with a rough and angry tug of my head, he jerks my head back and slams his mouth down over mine. I gasp into his open mouth, and then we’re kissing.

  We’re kissing without love, but with plenty of passion.

  We’re kissing angrily, with so much hatred and fire that it burns me right to my very core.

  We’re kissing with a ferocity that has me tangling my fingers into his hair and tugging so hard he growls.

  “I fucking hate you,” I say, tears still rolling down my cheeks. “You let me down.”

  “Fuckin’ ditto,” he snarls, before slamming his lips over mine again.

  The kiss deepens and our movements become frantic as his hands go down to jerk my jeans down. I let him, my mind completely spiraling out of control, and yet I can’t seem to make myself care. I want him, as twisted and reckless as it is, and I’m not willing to make him stop right now.

  I need this.

  I just ... need it.

  Even as the hate and rage swirls around inside me, the love and unfinished feelings bust to the surface, pushing the rest down.

  Our kiss becomes desperate and my jeans are gone so quickly I don’t even recall stepping out of them. His cock is freed and then, before I know it, he’s inside of me. One leg wrapped around his hips, my arms over his shoulders, my hands tangling in his hair, my body more than ready for him.

  One of his hands is gripping my ass to hold me where he needs me and the other comes up to grip my jaw so hard it hurts, and yet I do nothing to stop him. He hangs onto my jaw with such strength, anger and lust, that it sends me over the edge. As his hard cock pumps in and out of me.

  It begins to rain and cold drops of water start hitting us with ferocity. My hair becomes wet, my body soaked, and yet it only turns me on even more. As the pouring sounds mix with our moans of pleasure, I decide this is the most incredible sex I’ve ever had.

  I’m unable to hold back my orgasm a second longer. I scream with its release, not at all ashamed at how quickly it came for me.

  Alarick keeps fucking me, driving his cock into my sore and wet pussy, his balls slapping with every movement. I grip his scalp with my fingers, and I feel my nails bust through the skin. He roars and fucks me harder, the entire shed creaking without passion and rage. Then, with a bellow that I’m certain the whole neighborhood can hear, he cums inside of me.

  I feel every pulse of his cock as he finds his release.

  The way it makes me feel is out of this world.

  When we both come down from what would have to be the roughest and most anger-fueled sex I’ve ever had, we find ourselves in complete silence. The only thing I can hear in the dark night is the pouring rain that is still soaking us. I tip my head back and I can only just see him in the dim light coming from a nearby shed security light. His hair is stuck to his forehead and rain droplets roll down his face.

  He’s incredible.

  So fucking beautiful.

  I open my mouth to say something, anything, but a bellow st
ops me.

  “Alarick, fuck, you need to get over here now!”

  Cohen’s bellow into the night has all the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The way his voice sounds, the frantic nature of it, has me panicking almost immediately. Alarick steps back and is doing up his jeans in seconds. I find mine and hop and curse as I try to pull them up over my wet body. Alarick turns and runs in the direction of Cohen’s voice, and after a lot of angry curses, I get my jeans up enough and run, too.

  When I reach the front of the club, all the guys plus a few random club whores are all staring at something on the ground. One of the girls turns around, her hand over her mouth, shaking her head in horror.

  My heart jumps into my throat and I run closer, shoving past someone, I don’t know who, until I see what’s on the ground.

  My entire world stops.

  I don’t say that lightly.

  Every single thing around me disappears. I can’t hear, I can’t think, I can’t feel. I don’t notice the droplets of rain falling onto my skin, I don’t notice the sounds of male voices yelling and shouting, I don’t notice anything.

  I just stare down at her.

  My sister.

  My baby sister.

  Lying in the dirt, her dead body.

  I’ll never unsee the sight before me.

  The gunshot wound in her forehead.

  The way her body is bloated and a blueish shade.

  The way her lifeless eyes stare into nothing.

  The way her clothes are soaked and torn.

  I’m screaming.

  I don’t know I’m screaming until huge arms wrap around me, and I’m being pulled against a body, my face crushed into a familiar chest.

  My screams are so frantic, I can’t even breathe through them.

  “Get her out of here,” Alarick orders. “Now!”

  He’s not talking about me.

  He’s talking about my sister’s dead body.

  “Magnolia!” I scream, trying to pull away from Alarick, but it’s no use.

  He’s stronger than me, and he’s not letting me go.

  He’s not going to let me look again.

  With one quick movement he lifts me into his arms and strides inside the clubhouse. I’m still crying and screaming and clawing at him. I beg him to let me go, I beg him to let me see her, but he doesn’t answer me. He carries me into the main bathroom and he slams the door shut before placing me on the ground and standing against it, so I can’t run out.

 

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