King's Reign (Sydney Storm MC Book 6)

by Nina Levine

  He put the beer he’d bought in the fridge and came to me. Placing his hand on the back of my neck, he bent and dropped a kiss on my lips before continuing on his way out to the living room. “Never fucking heard that song, and never fucking wanna hear it again,” he said as he moved.

  I smiled.

  All was good in my world.

  My man was his usual moody self, my kids were with their father, my sister was with her guy, my mum was out on another date with the library dude, and I had just figured out how to perfect a lemon cheesecake that had given me grief the last time I tried to make it. King would benefit from that on Saturday night, and then I would benefit from him being happy. It turned out he had a sweet tooth. And it turned out that I could get him to do all kinds of shit when that sweet tooth was satisfied.

  I shuffled the playlist, and a One Direction song came on. Grinning, I called out, “Is this one better?”

  He didn’t reply, but when he entered the kitchen again a couple of minutes later, he said, “Your taste in music is shit. Anyone ever told you that?”

  “Only every guy I’ve ever dated.” His features darkened, reminding me of his demand I never mention another man to him again. I’d momentarily forgotten. Shit. In an effort to shift his thoughts from that, I said, “Who’s your favourite band?”

  My gaze dropped to take in his change of T-shirt into a clean, white tee. I’d never seen King wear white before. It kinda threw me, but in a good way. He’d also taken his boots off and walked barefoot towards me. I loved it when he wore no shoes. I felt like it showed his relaxed state, and that was a state I wanted him in a lot more. I didn’t like the idea of my man stressing over shit all the time.

  When he reached me, he slid onto the barstool beside me at the breakfast bar. “Is this gonna be twenty questions?”

  I smiled as I ran my fingers through his long hair that had fallen across his face. It reached just below his beard now, and I had to admit, it did good things to me. I’d never been into this kind of haircut on a man before, but on King, I loved it. “Will you play with me?”

  His eyes searched mine. “Twenty is a fuckload. Hit me with five.”

  “You play hard to get.”

  “Metallica.”

  “Does that mean I only have four left?”

  “Yeah, and you’re running out of time.”

  Shit, I had so many questions that my brain scrambled to pick the best. In the end, I decided to keep this light and fun. The deeper stuff could wait. I wasn’t convinced he was in the mood for it tonight. “Favourite meal?”

  He didn’t have to stop to think about it. “Your roast chicken and that gravy you make with it.”

  Oh God, he was trying to kill me here.

  “Favourite number?”

  “Who the fuck has a favourite number?”

  “I do.”

  “What is it?”

  “Seven.”

  “And what the fuck makes it your favourite?”

  “It’s my lucky number.”

  “How the hell is a number lucky, Lily?”

  “I choose it when I put the Lotto in or when I have to take a number at the butcher or—”

  “You don’t just take the number at the front?”

  “No. I search for one that has a seven in it.”

  “That makes no fucking sense. You’d be waiting there longer than you have to.”

  I shrug. “So?”

  He shook his head and swivelled so he faced me. Spreading his legs, he reached for my stool and pulled me closer. “You do the strangest fucking things, woman.”

  I lifted my legs so I could wrap them around him. “Pull me closer.” Once he had me right next to him, I put my legs around him and rested my feet on the stool behind him. I then placed my hands on his chest. “What things do I do that are strange?”

  He rested his hands on my legs. “Lucky fucking numbers for one, but let’s list this shit out. You watch Elvis movies like they’re going out of fucking fashion, you have bows everywhere on your bags, bracelets, shoes, and underwear, you eat chips with chocolate, you eat fries with ice cream, you read five books at once, you have hard rules around what butter and cheese you will buy, you insist on fucking texting me all the time, you insist on sleeping with the fan on every fucking night, you don’t like your food touching other food on your plate, your cookbooks have to be in alphabetical order.” He paused, arching his brows. “I could go on.”

  “Don’t knock my bows! You seemed to like them on my panties.”

  “I fucking like anything to do with your panties. I’d like it a hell of a lot more if you never wore them again, though.”

  “I bet you would,” I murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

  The kiss started out slow, but quickly worked its way to being one of King’s demanding kisses. By the time he let my lips go, he had a hand inside my bra. Stroking my nipple, he said, “How long do we have before dinner is ready?”

  “You’re seriously going to stop whatever you have in mind just so we can eat?”

  His eyes flashed with heat. “Once I get started with you, we won’t be stopping for dinner. I’m also not giving up anything you’ve cooked, so yeah, how fucking long before dinner is ready?”

  I grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him long and hard again. Pulling away breathlessly, I said, “It’s ready.”

  “Fucking hell, woman, why didn’t you just say that?”

  I grinned. “Because I like to work you up a little.”

  He smacked the side of my thigh. “Yeah, I’ve fucking worked that shit out.” Attempting to pull my legs from around him, he added, “Get your ass up and serve me my food.”

  I gripped his hips with my legs, refusing to move. “Oh really, Mr Caveman? You seriously think I’ll respond to that shit?”

  He curled his hand around my neck and pulled my face to his. Against my ear, he growled, “The longer you fucking sit here arguing, the longer till I get inside you. And I’ve been thinking of nothing but that today, so stop fucking arguing with me.”

  I stopped arguing with him. I mean, I didn’t care that he went all caveman on me. I just liked to push him to see how demanding he’d get, because that shit turned me on.

  As I served up our dinner, he sat on the stool watching me intently. King was always watching, always taking note. He’d proved that when he rattled off his list of strange things he’d observed about me. I loved that he already knew those things, but what I really loved was knowing he paid attention.

  I passed our plates to him and said, “We didn’t finish your five things. I still have a few questions.”

  With his gaze firmly locked to mine, he said, “We have dinner. Then we have my time with your pussy. Then we have sleep. Maybe after that, we have five fucking questions, but don’t fucking count on it, because the way I’m feeling, I’m gonna need a whole lotta time with your pussy.”

  I sat next to him and picked up my fork. “I really like your place.”

  His eyes found mine. “I like it now you’re here.”

  Butterflies. Tummy.

  God, this man.

  After that, we ate. Then he did all those things he said he would. We never did get to five fucking questions again, but I’d make sure we played that game a lot in the future.

  27

  King

  Lily: How do you feel about cream as a colour?

  I stared at the text from Lily. Fuck knew where she was going with this. It was her day off, so I expected this shit to continue throughout the day. But I really didn’t have the time to be going back and forth texting about fucking colours right now so I rang her.

  “Hey. Did you get my text?” she asked.

  “Yeah. What’s this about?”

  “Well,” she started and then stopped for a beat before continuing, “so I was shopping at Target, and I saw this… Wait, first tell me your feelings on girlfriends who take over your life.”

  “Fuck, Lily, I’m busy. Can this wait until tonight?
”

  “No,” she snapped. “It’ll take less than five minutes. Surely you have five minutes.”

  I forced out a long breath. “Spit it out. What have you done?”

  “I may have just bought you a new blanket for your bed. And before you say anything, it’s getting colder at night, and I worry about you being cold there. I mean, not that you really sleep there on your own anymore, but you might, and I don’t want you to get a cold. But I can return it if this is overstepping the girlfriend line.”

  Fuck, she hit me fair in the gut with that. “Don’t fucking return it.”

  Silence, and then—“Okay,” soft as fuck, causing my gut to tighten again.

  “We done?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to head over to your place now and drop this blanket off. I’m going to do some washing and stuff, too. I’ll try not to text you too much.” With that, she ended the call and I leaned back in my chair thinking about her taking over my life. She had no fucking clue that she didn’t need to buy me shit to do that; she’d taken it over the minute I’d decided to make her mine. And she could do whatever the fuck she wanted to my place, because I intended for it to be hers at some point, too.

  I’d just finished the call with Lily when Axe rang.

  “What’s up, brother? And where are you?” I asked. After he and Zane had left Sydney, they’d headed back home to Brisbane, but Axe often went away for work if Zane needed him on a job out of town.

  “I’m at home. Just checking in on you to see how things have shaped up. The feds still on your back?”

  “No, I took care of that shit the other day. We’re getting back to business as normal now, thank fuck.”

  “Good to hear. You speak to Zane yet? Clear shit between you two?”

  “Yeah.” He’d fucking pissed me off by not giving me all the information I needed, but we’d cleared the air. We’d known each other for too long and had been through too much not to fix shit between us. And I’d decided that perhaps he had a fucking point that I needed to trust him more, because he was right—he hadn’t ever let me down.

  “So I’m also calling to let you know I’m taking off for a while. Justine walked out on me and has moved in with the motherfucker she cheated on me with. They’re talking marriage, and I can’t fucking watch this bullshit, so I’m taking some time off work and getting the hell out of town.”

  “Fuck, Axe. Where are you going?”

  “Fuck knows. Where the wind blows for all I care. The baby isn’t due for another six months. I’ll be back in plenty of time for that. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want me around, and I’m done fighting.”

  “Well, you know my thoughts on the matter. It’ll do you fucking good to get away. Keep in touch so I know you’re not dead in an alley somewhere.”

  “Will do,” he said, ending the call.

  I hated that Justine had fucked him over like this, but I was more than happy he was out of that shitfight of a relationship. With any fucking luck, he’d find a better woman fast. Axe had never been good on his own. He preferred to have a woman by his side. I just hoped the next one was the complete fucking opposite of Justine.

  I left the office and headed out to the bar. Kree met my gaze as I entered, and hit me with a smile. She’d moved past our previous problems now that her life had gotten back to normal. I appreciated a lot of things about Kree, but the fact she didn’t hold grudges had to be one of the best things about the woman. She was low fucking maintenance and handled her business with little fuss, and that shit made life far fucking easier when dealing with her.

  I’d come looking for Hyde and found him at a table in the corner. Pulling up a seat, I said, “We need to go over Winter’s proposals. You got some time now?”

  He nodded. “I’ve got a couple of hours.”

  Our disagreement of a week ago was long forgotten. Neither of us held onto that kind of shit. And he’d accepted the deal I’d made with Stark. He’d actually fucking liked the idea which had surprised me.

  We ran over the proposals Winter had sent through for the Melbourne operation, and came to some decisions about how we thought it best to proceed. I may have hated that city, but it was shaping up to be a profitable venture for us down there. We’d almost finished working shit out when my phone rang.

  Bronze.

  I hadn’t heard from him in almost a month so I’d figured he’d taken my advice and moved on with his life.

  “Bronze,” I answered the call. “Why are you still calling me?”

  “I’ve been digging. I told you I would. And I have something you’re gonna wanna hear.”

  “Keep talking.”

  “I’ve been tracking Ryland, trying to get to the bottom of whose payroll he was on. He dropped out of sight, which I’m guessing you know, but I followed his trail to South America. Someone paid him a shitload of cash to disappear, and that someone was Dante D’Amato.”

  I gripped my phone harder. “You sure about that? One hundred fucking percent sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “I appreciate the info. And just letting you know, I’ve sorted my problems with the feds, but I doubt that extends to you, so you need to get as far from Storm as possible.”

  He turned quiet for a moment. “Watch over Hailee for me, King.”

  “Yeah.”

  I ended the call and dialled Lily without wasting a second. “You still at my place?” I demanded, not giving her a chance to get a word in.

  “Yes, why—”

  “Do not leave there. I am on my way over now.”

  “King, what’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell you when I get there, but do not leave and do not let anyone in.”

  “Umm, does that mean I have to kick your neighbour out?”

  My blood turned to ice, cooling my veins as it flowed. “What neighbour, Lily?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, all I heard were muffled cries before the line went dead.

  I pushed up out of my chair. Eyes to Hyde, I bellowed, “It was fucking D’Amato! All this fucking time! And now he has Lily.”

  Hyde jerked up. “Fucking hell!”

  We rounded up everyone we could find and roared out of the clubhouse. My heart beat furiously the whole fucking way there. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been so fucking stressed. If D’Amato hurt Lily, I would hunt down every last member of his family and rip them apart limb by fucking limb. I would make them bleed in ways they never knew they could, and he would wish he’d never laid eyes on my woman.

  Hyde wanted to be strategic about how we got inside my place to Lily, but I didn’t have the patience for that. D’Amato knew we were coming, so there was no point fucking about getting in there. I gave Hyde half a minute of airtime with his objections to my plan, and then I fucking stormed the place.

  “King, you move fast,” D’Amato said when we entered my living room.

  My eyes went straight to Lily who sat on the couch with her hands bound, her mouth gagged. She met my gaze, and I saw the fear in hers. Fuck. I had done this to her when all I’d tried to do was fucking keep her safe.

  “Has he touched you?” I demanded of her.

  She shook her head. Thank fuck.

  D’Amato moved to her, pressing his gun to her temple. “You can’t imagine how happy I was when it came to my attention you’d found a new plaything. After I killed your previous one, I felt a little empty. I decided that was because you didn’t get to see me do it, so this time around I’m fixing that mistake of mine. This time you will have front row seats. All I have to decide now is how long to make you wait for the final performance.”

  “You’re fucking insane,” I snarled. “All this for a nephew you hardly knew and didn’t like?”

  He pushed his gun harder against Lily’s head, rage written all over him. “No, all this for my sister whose son I presume you killed. I might not have liked the boy, but after his death, she spiralled into depression and addiction, and
killed herself. I lived through those five years of her hell, and I’ve lived through the rest of these years in my own hell. And that was all on you and your fucking club. I just never knew who to blame until Ryland brought me the information.”

  I assessed the situation. I had six men at my back, ready to defend me. I could lunge at D’Amato and hope like hell he shot me rather than Lily, at which time my men could save her. My concern was he’d shoot her and take whatever consequences that meant for him. His only goal here was to see me suffer, and killing her was his ticket to that.

  I decided to keep him talking while my brain ran through other possible scenarios.

  “I didn’t kill the baby, but I did deal with your nephew. He was a fool who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. When the club whore turned up with the child and dumped it with him, he panicked about his girlfriend finding out, and killed the whore. It was a clusterfuck for my club, because she had family connections we didn’t need to be dealing with if they found out. I only went to your nephew to give him a piece of my fucking mind, but he lost his shit and ended up dead in the process.”

  “Where’s the fucking child now?”

  “That was the thing in all of this that threw us—Moses disappeared. Someone took him from his cot. We never worked out who, and we never found him.” It was the truth, but I was hoping it rattled him to the point of stepping away from Lily and coming to me.

  It didn’t.

  Instead, he yanked her up off the couch, pushed her in front of him, and put the gun to her head again. Fear flashed in her eyes, but she showed no other emotion. No tears. No muffled cries or screams. My woman stood fucking tall and took what he did to her without anything but that flicker of fear as she watched me.

  “Maybe I won’t kill her, King. Maybe she’ll simply disappear. I’ll take her with me and you’ll never see her again. Never find her.” His voice dropped to a menacing evil tone. “You’ll never fucking know what filthy things I’ve done to her.” He shifted the gun from her head to run it slowly over her body. “She looks like a fun plaything, and the more I think about this, the more I like the idea.”