PREGNANT FOR A PRICE: Kings of Chaos MC

by Kathryn Thomas

  He turned and gave me these big puppy dog eyes. I laughed and shook my head at his blatant manipulation. But, how could I say no? And to be honest, a day of carefree fun sounded pretty wonderful to me.

  “Well, I do have the day off tomorrow,” I said.

  “What a coincidence, so do I.”

  “Yeah, that's quite the coincidence. I suppose one day isn't going to ruin Austin's academic career.”

  “Of course it won't. Look how many days I missed and I turned out okay.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Yeah, that's debatable.”

  “So, it's settled,” he said. “You, me, and Austin are going to the zoo tomorrow.”

  I looked into his eyes and put my hand on his cheek. “Sounds wonderful.”

  We snuggled up together on the couch – though, I was keeping one ear open for the sound of little footsteps in the hallway. The last thing we needed was for Austin to come out and find us on the couch together – naked, no less. Even though it was a risk, I didn't want to get up and go into the bedroom. I didn't want to break the spell and bring what felt like a really special moment to end.

  I traced the tip of my finger around Damian’s chest, planting soft kisses on his toned, firm torso.

  “You never did tell me what you were going to do about Mills and the Kings,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Honestly, I'm not really sure at this point. I don't like the direction Mills is taking the club. We were rough around the edges, sure. Always have been. But what Mills is doing – it's something else entirely. And I don't know that I can be on board with it.”

  I nodded slowly. “I don't blame you.”

  “I mean, ever since I met you – things have been different,” he said. “It's like… something's changed within me. I'm seeing things different these days.”

  I looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Sorry.”

  He shook his head. “It's not a bad thing,” he replied. “That's not what I'm saying. It's actually a good thing, to be honest.”

  “And what is it you're seeing differently, Damian?”

  He looked at me, deep into my eyes. “That maybe, this life isn't for me anymore,” he said. “That maybe, it's time I hang up my kutte. Maybe it's time for me to move forward without the MC. You've shown me something better, Cara. Something good. Something amazing. Something I never thought I'd have.”

  I took his hand and squeezed it, bringing it to my lips and kissed his knuckles. It felt like he wanted to say more, so I remained silent, letting him have the floor.

  “When I'm with you and Austin,” he went on, “I feel more normal – and way happier – than I've ever been in my life. Than I ever thought I could be. The MC – especially with the direction it's headed – it's a goddamn millstone around my neck. You've shown me that maybe I don't need it anymore.”

  “Maybe you don't,” I said softly.

  “And if there is one thing I've learned about myself, it's that I want to be a better man. I want to be a better man for you and for Austin.”

  “You are a good man, Damian.”

  He shook his head. “Not really,” he replied. “I've done some bad, terrible things. Things I regret. I don't think I want to live that way anymore. I don't think I want to be that guy. Not anymore.”

  Listening to him speak, I felt my heart filling with a profound sense of joy. It was like a dream coming true – in a way. But the simple fact that Damian seemed to be outgrowing the club, that maybe he would decide to walk away from it altogether – I would be lying if I didn't say I was more than thrilled with the idea of it.

  Yeah, it was selfish. Sue me.

  “Things have changed since I met you,” he said. “And I have to say, I like the direction things are going.”

  I leaned up and kissed him hard. When I pulled back, I put both of my hands on his cheeks and looked deeply into his eyes.

  “I do too,” I said. “I like the direction things are going in a lot.”

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Damian

  The next few weeks went by in a blur. A fun, fantastic, wonderful blur. I spent every day with Cara and Austin – staying over most nights. We spent a lot of time going out and doing fun things – whether it was just a day at the beach, going to the movies, or just having a barbecue in the backyard.

  And I loved every single minute of every single one of those days.

  The thing that struck me the most was that I didn't really miss the MC all that much. Sure, I thought about it. Had talked to Crank a few times just to keep up to date with things – and was assured that Mills was out of control and the club was becoming one big shit show – but I was happier without the club than I had been with it in quite some time.

  We were sitting in her backyard, enjoying the cool evening breeze. Austin was in bed already, and we were just sitting out on the back deck, enjoying a quiet evening in.

  “What are you thinking about?” Cara asked me.

  I looked over at her and smiled. “I was just thinking about how great the last few weeks have been.”

  “They really have been, haven't they?”

  I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “They have been.”

  “Then why do you look so sad?”

  I turned to her and took a sip of my soda before answering. “What do you mean? I don't think I've ever been happier in my life.”

  She shrugged. “There's just this look you get sometimes. Like a shadow that passes over your face. It just looks like you're far away from here, thinking about something else. And that whatever it is, it's making you sad.”

  I sighed. I couldn't ever put anything past her. Cara was so observant – and apparently knew me so well – she could read me like a book. She could apparently even see things in me that I wasn't entirely aware of.

  “It's not that I'm really sad about anything,” I said. “I'm honestly not sure what I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged. “When I came home from the war, I really didn't have anybody. The Kings took me in, and for a long time, those have been my brothers. We've all been through a lot of shit together. But then Mills took the gavel, and things started to change – and now, we are where we are.”

  “You care about the club, don't you?”

  I reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I miss what it used to be,” I said. “Not what it is now. I don't even recognize it right now. But early on, when I first joined – it was a true brotherhood. That's what I miss.”

  “Do you think it could ever be that again?”

  A breeze rolled through, stirring some of the leaves on the ground as a night bird called out.

  “Not so long as Mills and his inner circle are part of the club,” I said. “They're like a cancer, and they're eating away everything good there's ever been about the Kings.”

  “But if they were gone?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. I just don't know. Things changed, and I don't know that you can ever go back. I don't know that even if we were to get Mills and his groupies out of the club, that it would ever be the same again. That I'd ever feel the same way about it again.”

  “You sound like you're still on the fence about it a little bit,” she said. “Like you're still clinging to what it used to be.”

  “Maybe I am. You might be right.”

  She squeezed my hand fiercely. “If there's one thing I've learned in my life, it's that you need to make a decision and go with it. One way or the other, you need to clear up some of these unresolved issues you have with the club and see where you are after that.”

  “Maybe so,” I said.

  “Definitely so,” she said and gave me a smile.

  Still holding on to her hand, I stood up and smiled back at her. “You're right. And I'll figure it out one way or the other. But not tonight. Tonight, I have something else in mind.”

  “Oh goody.” She laughed. “I was hoping you did.”

  I picked her up and carried her into
her bedroom where I gently laid her down on the bed. I'd decide what to do about Mills and the Kings later. But that was for later. At that moment, all I cared about was spending another night of intense, electric pleasure with Cara.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Damian

  “Thought I told you to leave your goddamn phone on!” Mills called the moment I stepped through the clubhouse door.

  “Am I on the fuckin' clock or something?” I called back.

  Mills and his guys were at one of the tables, huddled together over their beers, talking in low tones. At least, until I walked in. Then Mills went straight into macho posturing mode.

  “You've been gone three weeks,” he howled.

  “Again, am I on a fuckin' clock or something?”

  Mills walked over and stood in front of me, our noses just inches apart. “You're really pissin' me off, Damian.”

  “Wasn't aware this was a popularity contest.”

  “You don't seem to be aware of a lot of things these days.”

  “Come on Mills, we need to talk,” I said, casting a look at his boys. “In private.”

  We walked into the club's conference room and took seats at opposite ends of the table. We stared at one another in silence for a few long moments, as if engaging in a silent battle of wills. It was a stupid, petty little game and I was happy to end it.

  “You know,” I said, “once upon a time, the Kings was a great club. It used to be a real brotherhood.”

  “Yeah, and once upon a time, this was a second-rate club that wasn't earning a fraction of what we're earning right now. Speaking of which—”

  Mills opened up a drawer on his side of the table and withdrew a paper bag. He tossed it down to the other end of the table where it landed with a thud in front of me. I looked at it like it was a coiled snake that was ready to strike.

  “What's this?” I asked.

  “Your cut.”

  “Cut of what?”

  “Your cut for being the VP. It's our new… revenue stream.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  I opened the bag and looked at the banded stacks of cash inside. There must have been at least five grand in the bag.

  “And what exactly is our new revenue stream?”

  Mills stared hard at me as if daring me to challenge him. “We're supplying some guns to some of the bangers in Oakland.”

  “Running guns now, are we?” I asked and tossed the bag back to him. “Keep it. I don't want the blood money.”

  Mills shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it's a good living.”

  “Funny. I don't recall a vote ever being taken. I don't remember ever approving this new revenue stream.”

  “You ain't been around much lately.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, but I've kept in touch. I would have heard of a vote being taken on something like this.”

  Mills shrugged again. “Call it my executive privilege then. The club needs to earn. I found a way to make us profitable.”

  “Right,” I said. “And you do realize you have no executive privilege, don't you? I mean, you have read the MC's charter, right?”

  “I didn't hear anybody else complain when we cut up and distributed the proceeds.”

  “Doesn't matter. You can’t make unilateral decisions for the club. That's not how this shit works.”

  “Actually, that is how this shit works now,” he said, his face darkening with anger. “I'm the goddamn president of this club, get it? My word is fuckin' law around here.”

  I shook my head and chuckled. “Yeah, that's really not the way shit works. This isn't your personal little kingdom. You don't get to make decisions that impact the rest of the club without our consent.”

  “Yeah, well you and your little brigade of pussies aren't doin' shit to help this club grow and earn,” he hissed. “I am. I'm going to make the Kings into the most feared MC around. Not to mention the richest. You, of course, are welcome to ride along on my coattails and reap the benefits. You are the VP after all.”

  I sighed and leaned back in my seat. “Feared,” I said. “That really gives me a lot of insight into your character. Not that I really needed much more. Not after what you did in the barn that night.”

  He laughed. “What I did that night was put this club on the path to greatness. And I have you to thank for it, actually. None of this would be possible without you.”

  “Yeah, not following.”

  “It's your fault Mendoza and his guys were in that barn that night in the first place,” he sneered. “If not for you and that little piece of ass of yours, we never would have had the opportunity. But we had it, thanks to you. So, I took it.”

  “That's not how it went down, and you know it,” I said.

  “Don't try to deny your role in this, Damian. Your hands are as dirty as mine. You knew exactly what was going to happen in that barn and you let it happen anyway.”

  I felt my stomach roiling, and I suddenly felt lightheaded. Coming into this, I'd felt like I was on solid, stable footing. I thought I had the moral high ground. But was Mills right? Had I known what was going to happen? No, I'd tried to stop it. That is not how I wanted it to go down. I didn't want that. I'd tried to stop it.

  But the one thing he was right about – the one fact I couldn't deny – was that Mendoza and his guys were in that barn that night because of me. If not for Cara and me, they wouldn't have been there.

  I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. Mills was twisting this all around. Turning this into something it wasn't. I hadn't murdered those men in cold blood. He had. And there was nothing I could have done to stop it.

  “That's bullshit, Mills,” I said, my voice low and intense. “And you know it.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yeah, it is. You saw an opportunity to make yourself rich – and you killed a hell of a lot of people to do it.”

  He smirked. “Yeah well, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, as they say.”

  “You're a fucking psycho, Mills. You're destroying this club.”

  “Actually, I think I'm enhancing it. A lot. Look, you have two options here. You can get on board the gravy train. Or you can hand over your patches right now and get the fuck out of here.”

  I felt my rage boiling inside of me, and it was taking everything in me not to launch myself across the table and throttle him with my bare hands. I took a deep breath and held myself in check. I needed to fight with my brain, not my brawn at that moment. He was trying to goad me. Trying to get me to do something stupid. Something that would give him grounds to get rid of me.

  I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

  “There's actually a third option you're missing,” I said.

  “Oh yeah? What's that?”

  “We do things according to our charter. Or I call the other charters’ presidents, and we all have a sit-down. We do that, I outline everything I know. All of my cards go on the table, and they can deal with you.”

  He glowered at me from across the table. He knew I was right and knew I had him – and it pissed him off.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “You want my patches?”

  He nodded. “I sure as shit do.”

  “Then we're holding a vote. You want me out, I'm going to make you do shit the right way for a change. Full membership vote. You get the votes, you get my patches, and you'll never see me again.”

  “And if I don't get the votes?”

  “Then I'll be calling for a second vote. And we'll be voting on whether or not you turn in your fuckin' patches.”

  That was it. I'd made my play, and my cards were now on the table. Mills was pissed. His anger was radiating off of him like the heat of the sun. But he also knew that I had him dead to rights, and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, nothing except try to whip the votes he needed to oust me – and hope I wasn't doing the same. I had a feeling that deep down, he knew I was more likely to win the vote than he was. His only play was to in
timidate and bully the other members into voting his way.

  It was a play that could work. After all, nobody had stood up to him about the drug and gun running. He very well might be able to badger everybody into voting his way.

  But I still had another card I intended to play.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Cara

  I smiled when I heard Damian's bike pull into the driveway. The last few weeks had been amazing, and I was looking forward to many more weeks just like that. But when I saw his face as he stepped through the door, I felt a stab of pain in my heart and a knot form in my stomach. Something was wrong.