King of Kings

by Shreffler, Betty

  “No,” Max replies easily.

  “All right. I need your names, phone numbers, and addresses in case we need to bring you in for further questioning.”

  “They did this.” I point to Angela’s body.

  The officer’s blond brows furrow. “Who did this?”

  “The Wild Royals. We know as well as you do what they’re capable of. They’re animals.”

  “We’ll be questioning them. As of now, we can’t make speculations. Thank you for your time, and I’m sorry for your loss.”

  The officer leaves us and enters into a conversation with his partner. Over his shoulder, the dark-haired officer takes note of us. Max and I linger and watch as the ambulance arrives. Max taps me on the shoulder, his dark gaze empathetic.

  “You shouldn’t be here for this part.”

  Putting pressure on my shoulder, he urges me to turn away and walk with him. Reluctantly, I do, glancing over my shoulder at the stretcher being carried to her body. My chest constricts, and I look away, knowing the next part will only make the pain worse. Running a hand from my temple to my chin, I take a long breath. Max turns on his cell phone flashlight to light our way to camp.

  “They dumped her here for us to find her,” I tell him.

  “It’s some sick shit what they did to her. They need to pay for it.”

  “We’ll find a way.”

  My words are a promise to Angela and to myself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SYNNE

  Opening the camper door, I step out to a cool morning with the dew still bubbled on the grass and vehicles. My eyes sweep the camp in search of Nix. When he returned to camp last night, he didn’t say a word to anyone, just grabbed a bottle of whiskey and disappeared into the night. The only person who got a chance to speak to him was Max, and Max wouldn’t tell me anything, only that I needed to give him space.

  The first place I check is his tent, but it’s empty. Walking around the outside of the vehicles, I search the ground and the tree line. As I pass Nix’s truck, there’s rustling in the bed.

  Popping my head in, I find Nix wrapped in a sleeping bag with an empty bottle of whiskey lying next to his face. He’s still sleeping off the alcohol. I feel sorry for him. When he wakes, he’ll be stiff and hungover. Returning to the camper, I brew a fresh pot of coffee, gather two aspirins, and fill my canteen with water. Once the coffee is made, I bring all three to Nix. Setting them on the tailgate, I climb in, and Nix stirs. Swollen, tired eyes blink at me, then look up at the sky in confusion. Looking around him, it sinks in where he passed out and slept. Without saying anything, he opens the zipper of the sleeping bag for me to climb in. I do, and he lies on his side, so I can rest my head on his arm.

  Turning on my side, I caress his cheek, and he opens his eyes, the sorrow in them gut-wrenching.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he admits.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” There’s pain in his voice, and I’m worried about him spiraling.

  “I brought you coffee, aspirin, and water.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I disappeared last night.”

  His gaze trails to the tailgate.

  “I’ll get them.”

  “Thanks.”

  Slipping out of the sleeping bag, I grab the coffee and the rest. He sits up, rubbing both hands over his face, and groans. When he looks at me, I have the aspirin in my palm and the water in my opposite hand. Taking them both, he tosses the pills in his mouth and chugs the water.

  “I need to get out of this truck. It’s killing my back.”

  Climbing down, I carry his coffee and the canteen. He trudges across the campsite to the camper, his head hanging low, his steps heavy. Wesley unzips his tent and dips his chin in greeting as he climbs out. Nix doesn’t acknowledge anything around him. He slinks into the camper, kicks his boots off, lays his vest on the table, tosses his shirt, and drops onto the bed. Moments later, he’s passed out, and I’m sitting on the edge of the bed watching him sleep, my heart aching for the guilt and pain I know he feels.

  Taking the coffee, I leave the camper to let him sleep. Voices and activity stir around me as I sit in a camp chair, sipping the warm liquid. Liz comes out of her and Jake’s tent, adjusting the shirt she just put on.

  “How is he?”

  I hand her my coffee, and she takes a drink as she sits next to me.

  “Not good. I found him passed out in the bed of his truck. Now he’s sleeping off his hangover in the camper.”

  Returning the coffee, she throws her hair up in a bun. “He’s going to pull back. Don’t hold it against him. It’s how he copes.”

  “I won’t, but I’m worried how much he’s going to pull back.” My stomach knots, the coffee suddenly unappetizing. “I’m afraid he’ll break it off with me.”

  Liz goes silent, staring into the distance. I guess my concern isn’t unwarranted. Another stressor is tickling at my neck. I spoke to Angela, and if the cops find out, I might become a suspect as the jealous new girlfriend.

  Liz glances at her tent as Jake moves around inside. She puts a hand on her temple and rubs her fingers into it. “This is an awful way to leave bike week.”

  “It is.”

  Wesley leaves his tent, and in the opening, I see Deborah inside. I’m glad not all the women were scared off last night. The girl who was under Max’s arm grabbed her friend, who was with Axel, and they took off before we returned to camp. I don’t blame them. Learning there was a woman’s dead body less than twenty feet from where you’re standing is a good reason to send them back to wherever they came from. Deborah must have felt comfortable with Wesley, and from what I got to know of her last night, she has a lot of life experience.

  Wesley seems in good spirits as he begins his usual ritual, starting a fire for breakfast. Ink pops out of his tent alone, looks at us, then my coffee.

  “Got any more of that?”

  “I do, it’s in the camper. Nix is in there sleeping.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Walking past our fire pit and chairs, he heads to the camper. He’s in and out quickly, holding a cup of coffee and a skillet with a half-empty bag of bacon and a roll of biscuits in it.

  “He’s still passed out, snoring like a freight train.”

  Liz blows out a puff of air. “He does that when he’s had way too much to drink.”

  “Think we should load his bike up in the trailer?” Ink asks, setting the skillet next to the fire. “Maybe he shouldn’t ride home.”

  Jake unzips their tent and climbs out. Walking over to the cooler, he grabs a bottle of water that’s floating in the ice-melted water, pops it open, and chugs it.

  “Let me talk to him first and see how he’s doing.”

  “All right.” Ink sets his coffee on the ground, gathers a handful of bacon, and slaps it into the pan.

  Angling my head over my shoulder, I look toward the sound of William and Maci’s tent as their voices rise.

  “I’ll drop you off, but once I do, we’re done.”

  “William!”

  “I mean it. That stunt you pulled on stage was the last of your bullshit. You disrespected me in front of my brothers, then caused problems for us with another club. I can’t even look at you right now.”

  “Then why’d you let me sleep in here?” Her voice is tearful and pleading.

  “Because we were drunk last night, and it was the right thing to do. I’ll make sure you get home safe, but I mean it, don’t text or call me or show up at my house.”

  The zipper whizzes as it’s opened with forceful speed. William climbs out, his face red, his hand rubbing his cheek and facial hair. He glances at us with hurt in his eyes, then stomps toward the camper and disappears inside.

  Maci remains in their tent, her hands covering her face as she sobs into them. Going to the tent, I squat down and lean my head in. Hearing someone, she lowers her hands to look.

  “I wanted to win to impress him. I want
ed him to see others want me, so he would,” she cries.

  “I’m sorry, love. You want me to take you home?”

  Gathering a shirt to wipe her eyes with, she nods.

  “All right. Gather your stuff. You mind riding passenger on my bike?”

  “No, I just want out of here,” she pleads.

  “Okay.”

  Closing the zipper, I give her privacy to dress and load her backpack. There’s an awkward silence among everyone as I walk to the camper. Inside, William has an arm stretched on the cabinet above him as he looks out the window above the sink, holding a steaming coffee cup in his right hand.

  “You okay?”

  Looking over his shoulder, he watches me gather my bike keys, wallet, and jacket.

  “Yeah,” he replies casually, but I can hear in his tone that he’s not. “Where are you going?”

  With my jacket in hand, I check on Nix, who’s still asleep.

  “I’m taking Maci home.”

  William drops his hand and turns toward me, resting his ass against the counter. Without a shirt on, he’s showing off his muscles and matching sparrow tattoos on his chest. He really is a gorgeous guy. I don’t imagine it’ll be long before he’s dating someone new, not with those pretty blues.

  “You don’t have to. I can take her.”

  “For the sake of avoiding another fight, it’s best I take her. She’s a hot mess out there and wants to go home.”

  William throws a hand in the air and pinches his brows. “All right,” he sighs. “Just be careful. You ever had a passenger on your bike?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

  With an accepting nod, he crosses a boot over the other.

  “I’ll stay in here until you leave, so I don’t upset her more.”

  “Thanks.”

  Leaning down, I kiss Nix’s cheek, but he doesn’t register it.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” William assures me.

  Leaving the camper, I slide my arms into my jacket and zip it. Maci stands from the chair next to Liz, her backpack full of her stuff. Her expression is hopeful as if I might have a message from William or that he asked for her to stay. I tilt my head toward my bike.

  “Let’s go.”

  As the words leave my mouth, her face drops, a frown forming her lips.

  “I’ll wash your bikini and get it back to you.”

  “Keep it,” she tells me. “It looks better on you.”

  Sitting atop my bike, I raise the kickstand and fire it up. Maci climbs on the back and wraps her arms around my waist. It’s a foreign feeling, but it’s temporary, and I could use the quiet ride back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  NIX

  Lifting my head from the blanket, I wipe drool off my bottom lip. A dull, pounding ache is in my skull, and my mouth is dryer than the desert. Throwing a leg over the edge of the bed, I rest my head in my hands and rub my temples. As I stand, a dizzy sensation overwhelms me, and I have to put my hand on the wall to stabilize myself. I’m right back to the familiar aftermath of reaching the bottom of a Jack Daniels bottle.

  Dragging my feet to the fridge, I gather a water bottle and empty it. Stripping out of my jeans, briefs, and socks, I traipse to the shower and stand under the warm water until my eyes feel like they’re no longer covered by foggy goggles.

  Stepping out, I’m quick to dry, grab fresh clothes, and an energy bar from the cabinet. Leaving the camper, I join my crew, who are all awake and tossing their finished breakfast into the campfire. Searching the group, I look for Synne, worry tightening my gut when I don’t find her.

  “Where’s Synne?”

  “She gave Maci a ride home,” Liz tells me. “You feeling any better?”

  “Why the fuck did y’all let her leave?”

  Anger shoots up my spine and crawls across my shoulders like spindly spider legs. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call her cell. When she doesn’t answer, my fist squeezes the phone, and I blow out an angry breath.

  “She’s fine,” Liz assures me. “No one knows she left.”

  “You don’t know that,” I bark at her. “Did anyone check the tree line for the Royals? Did anyone make sure she wasn’t followed?”

  Wesley, Ink, and William lower their heads, and Liz’s face turns red with worry.

  “No,” she admits.

  “None of you should’ve let her leave!”

  Max stands from the squatting position he was in by the fire and tilts his head toward our rides.

  “Let’s go. We’ll meet up with her. William,” Max motions his hand for him to stand. “Lead the way. Take the route Maci would’ve given Synne.”

  “You don’t know if she’ll take that route back,” Jake adds. “It’s better if you wait for her to return or call you back.”

  “I can’t fucking wait. I need to know she’s okay.” My tone is sharp and unyielding.

  Max’s gaze sweeps the group and shakes his head to them in a warning.

  “Let’s get going, Pres. We’re wasting air.”

  Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I rush to my bike. My cell rings loud, and I freeze, gather my wits then answer it.

  “Synne, where are you? You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. I dropped off Maci then swung by my place.”

  “Stay there. Don’t leave. Don’t come back here.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” There’s distinct fear in her tone.

  “It’s not safe for you to be riding alone, especially since we don’t know if you were followed.”

  “All right, I’ll wait here for you.” She sounds annoyed, yet still worried.

  “I’ll be there soon.”

  Hanging up, I pocket my cell and put my hand in the air and circle it.

  “Pack it up, we’re leaving. Synne’s waiting at her place for me.”

  * * *

  Never having been inside Synne’s apartment, I take it all in—an open floor concept with the living room, dining room, and kitchen all visible. A light gray couch with a white leopard print blanket draped over it sits below a red canvas five-piece wall art that steals your gaze with its pop of color on a silver and black background. To the right of her living room is a four-chair dining table with black chairs and a glass top. The kitchen has silver appliances with dark wood cabinets and light marble counters. It’s a nice place. I feel comfortable in it, and the best part is, no one knows where it’s located.

  Taking the duffle bag off my shoulder, I set it next to her couch, then remove my vest, laying it over the back cushion as she walks into the kitchen and gathers two glasses.

  “I’m assuming you’d like water and some aspirin.”

  “Yes.”

  Dropping onto her couch, I lie back with my arm over my eyes in an attempt to soothe the massive headache throbbing in my skull. She disappears into a door off the living room, opens a cabinet in what I assume is the bathroom, then returns with two aspirin, and drops them in my palm. I toss them in my mouth and thank her when she brings me a glass of water. Emptying it, I set it on her glass top coffee table and lie back down.

  “You should sleep here,” she insists.

  “Planned on it,” I quip.

  My arm drops to her hip as she climbs on top of me.

  “You were really worried about me today. It meant a lot.”

  Caressing her side, I apply pressure and lower her down to me.

  “I meant it. I can’t lose you too.”

  Splaying her hands over my chest, her worried gaze meets mine. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “No,” Putting a thumb into the waist of her pants, I push down. “I want to be between the legs of my woman, forgetting about all the shit outside these walls.”

  My mouth forms over hers as our kiss heats from the unruly passion always simmering between us. Raising her tank, I pull it off and reach for the back of her bra. It disappears as I fling it behind us. Gathering her tits in my hands, I massage them, pressing my thumb over her hardened nipp
les. Her hips rock forward and back, riding my dick and stretching its length. Unbuttoning her pants, I fold them down over her hips and watch as she wiggles out of them. I go for my jeans, but she stops my hands and takes over. Opening my fly, she folds my pants down and pulls out my erection, stroking it in a firm grip that curls the corner of my mouth. Another two strokes and my pre-cum is at the tip, swollen and throbbing for her to put her mouth on it. Warm, wet lips wrap around it, sucking hard, clearing my head and heart of its misery.

  My head falls back, and I close my eyes, indulging in the peace she’s giving me. The sound of slurping and sucking fills my ears as the sensation of her warm mouth and tight lips draws my orgasm through my cock. Gripping her shoulder, I spurt cum into her mouth and groan at the relief and pleasure coursing through me.

  Looking down at her, I catch her wicked smile as she crawls over me. Caressing my palm over her ass, I toy with her tight hole, and she releases a moan before I bring her lips to mine, strengthening her needy whimpers. Sliding her thighs farther up my legs, I drop mine over the side of the couch and sit her up with me. Pushing to the edge of the couch, I lift her, carrying her to her bedroom.

  Laying her on her green comforter, I spread her legs, step between them, and lift her ankles. Putting her legs over my shoulders, I watch her smile widen with anticipation as I lower between them. The taste of her meets my lips, and I’m quick to slide my tongue between her folds, taking her on the same high she gave me. With every raspy breath and moan that slips from her perfect mouth, I grow harder. Pulling back from her pussy, I wipe my mouth before gripping her legs and sliding her body closer to me. Lying down above her, I thrust hard into her soaking wet pussy as she grasps my shoulders, bucking her hips toward me.

  Her tight walls clench around my cock, working me toward another orgasm as I pound into her G-spot, her pleasure exploding onto my dick, trembling her body beneath me. I follow behind her, a groan filling the air as she clenches her walls, drawing out the last of my cum.

  Collapsing on the bed next to her, my jeans around my knees, I curl her into my arm and kiss her. She wraps a leg around my hip, her chest tucked into mine. It’s in this moment, I’m aware of how much I need her, how much peace she brings my damaged soul.