War of Hearts

by Nina Levine

He leans back in his chair and scrubs his face. “Doc says he’ll be okay.”

  Axe sticks his head in. “Griff has something.”

  Winter jerks his chin. “I’ll be there in a minute.” After Axe leaves, he says to me, “You need to go home, brother. See your family and then come back.” He pauses for a beat. “I need you back here, Fury.”

  I nod. “Yeah.” He does need me back here. He needs a whole fucking lot of us back here.

  As I turn to exit the room, he stops me. “I know you and King are in a world of shit, but that won’t last.”

  “I’m not so sure, brother.”

  “I am. He wouldn’t be reacting so violently if you didn’t mean something to him. He just needs to move through whatever shit is in his head over this.”

  I leave the office and head into the surveillance room, not convinced of Winter’s take on this. I don’t think anyone knows for sure how King will react in a given situation. When you think he’ll jump left, he fucking goes right. He’s too damn complicated for me to figure out.

  Winter follows me into the surveillance room and Axe gives us a rundown of what they’ve discovered. King comes in halfway through, his arm in a sling. He stands next to me, not uttering a word to anyone. The air is tense, but it feels different with him than it has for the last few weeks.

  “They were hired by Zenith,” Griff says, looking around the room at everyone. “We found data on their phones to corroborate that. That data has supplied us with a range of new information as to what Zenith is now up to, the thing of most interest being that they’ve started up business in Brisbane. Why, we don’t know, but something about these assholes tells me they have a reason for everything.”

  Axe steps in. “The other thing of interest we’ve found are three names in the files they had on their phones. It seems Zenith was in bed with Hagarty and Detective Stark somehow.” He looks at King. “And there was mention of Moses.”

  Jesus.

  Moses.

  “Stark,” King says, his voice a lot fucking calmer than the storm raging in his eyes. “She’s the one we need to get to. She’ll have the answers we’re looking for.”

  “She was found dead earlier today,” Griff says. “As was Hagarty.”

  Instead of losing his shit like I would expect him to, King exits the room, stalking down the hallway. I hear the sound of a slamming door and wonder where this is all going to end up. When this is going to end. It doesn’t feel like we’re getting any closer to solving the problem; if anything, it feels like the problem is growing and we’re moving further away from figuring it out.

  “When will you be back?” Ransom asks the next day as I prepare to go home.

  “Next week.”

  He lifts his chin at me. “Safe travels, brother.”

  It’s been a long twelve hours since the events of last night. Thank fuck I’m flying home; I wouldn’t last the ride if I was on my bike. I’m too fucking wiped.

  “Fury,” King says, entering my room. His stance is stiff and not just because of the pain he’s in.

  I meet his gaze, wishing like fuck he’d walk back out. The last thing I have the energy for today is more of his shit. “What?”

  “You had my back last night, brother.”

  “Yeah.” Of course I fucking did.

  King doesn’t miss the bitterness in my tone, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead his reaction is a momentary clench of his jaw before he lets that go and says, “I have a big fucking problem with the way everything went down with Zara, but she’s right—that isn’t club shit.”

  I have no idea where he’s going with this, so I wait for him to continue before I respond.

  “I mightn’t like how it all happened, but I’m not going to stand in your way with her.”

  “You don’t get it, King; you were never going to stand in my way with her. That wasn’t my concern.” I step closer to him, my body as rigid and tense as his. “I’m only interested in whether we have trust between us, because if we don’t, we both have a big fucking problem.”

  His breathing slows and his mouth pinches. He doesn’t like what I said, but he needs to fucking hear it. Trust is everything in the club and I need to know where I stand with him. Finally he says, “I trust you, brother, but it’s gonna take time for us to get back to where we were.”

  I search his eyes. The anger he’s looked at me with for weeks has disappeared, but there’s still strain between us. “I’ve taken everything you’ve doled out over this, King, but I won’t take it again,” I say with unyielding determination.

  His jaw sets with displeasure as his dark eyes bore into me. Then, without another word, he exits the room.

  This is as much as I’m going to get from King, so I’ll take it, but fuck, if he ever comes at me again like he has, I won’t hesitate to respond. I took his shit this time out of respect for his presidency and as Zara’s father, but I won’t do it again.

  46

  Zara

  * * *

  Holly: Is he there yet?

  Me: No.

  Holly: What’s the holdup? Seriously, it’s been nearly four weeks. Surely he needs his dick sucked by now.

  Me: You are so vulgar sometimes.

  Me: Oh, he’s here! Gotta go!

  * * *

  Holy shit.

  He’s here.

  He’s. Fucking. Here.

  I press the intercom to let him in and then open the apartment door to wait. My heart is doing flip flops while the butterflies in my stomach flap their wings all over the place.

  My man is here.

  He rounds the corner from the lift into the hallway and all the flip flops and flutters increase as I soak him in. I’ve spent countless hours tracing the lines of his face, the angle of his jaw, and the curve of his smile over FaceTime for almost a month, but none of that even comes close to seeing him like this.

  His eyes land on me and he blesses me with that smile I love. He doesn’t pick up the pace; if anything, he slows it down. When his eyes drop to my body and he undresses me with them, I know why he slowed. And holy hell I’m on board with his reason.

  By the time he makes it to me, I’m practically panting for him.

  My body has a mind of her own and I move into him, breathing a sigh of joy when his arm slips around my waist and his lips drop to mine.

  I thread my fingers through his hair as he kisses me. His mouth consumes me and I never want to let him go again. It seems Fury has similar ideas, because when I think he’s going to release me, he refuses.

  He comes up for a breath of air but his lips go straight back to mine. At the same time, he lifts me and carries me inside. I vaguely hear the door close while he walks me into my bedroom and deposits me on the bed. Still not stopping for more than a breath, he continues to devour me as he positions us on the mattress.

  Every cell in my body breathes for Fury as he shows me how much he missed me.

  When his hands move down my body and his lips finally let go of mine, I miss them instantly. But I have barely a moment to think about that before he removes my dress and comes back to my mouth.

  I wrap my arms and legs around him, needing every inch of skin touching his.

  His deep growl of approval shoots another round of need through my body and I arch up and grip his hair harder.

  “Fuck, princess,” he rasps, dragging his mouth from mine. “Fuck.”

  He moves his mouth down over my throat and takes my bra off while devoting time to my breasts. His tongue on my nipples elicits a moan from me and I grind myself against him.

  He lifts his face to mine as he circles his tongue around my nipple. “I fucking missed you.” Oh God, I’m not going to last much longer. Not with the gravel in his voice and all the things he’s doing to my body with his hands and mouth.

  Placing my hands to his head, I try to force him down to where I really want him. His eyes flare with heat and he moves his mouth lower. He takes his damn time, though, kissing and tasting his way down. />
  When he finally—finally—slides my panties off, I’m beside myself with need. This man has far too much patience when it comes to sex.

  With his eyes locked on mine, he dips his mouth to me and runs his tongue slowly between my folds.

  My arms fling out over the mattress either side of me, my fingers grip the sheets, my body jerks, and I cry, “Oh my God! You are never going away again!”

  He growls again and I feel it deep in my core as it vibrates through me.

  Fury is a master with that tongue of his and he dedicates time to bringing me close to orgasm over and over, never allowing me to get there fully. When he kneels and pulls his T-shirt over his head, I sit and reach for his belt. Quickly undoing it, I work the button and zip of his jeans to slip my hand in and reach for his cock.

  He hisses as I take hold.

  His eyes close as I stroke him.

  And my name falls from his lips right before he gives in to my desire to have him deep inside me.

  Moving swiftly, he discards the rest of his clothes, pushes me down to the bed, and presses my legs back as he thrusts inside me.

  Oh God.

  Yes.

  I curl my hand around his forearm. “I want your mouth on mine.”

  He shakes his head. “I want to watch you come.”

  The raw need in his voice coils pleasure through me.

  I close my eyes as I grip the sheets again.

  This isn’t going to take long.

  Fury is too skilled at what he’s doing and I’ve waited too long for him.

  “Zara,” he growls. “Look at me.”

  Fuck.

  His need tips me over the edge and I open my eyes as I come. My walls squeeze around him and he curses before gripping my legs harder and slamming into me faster.

  I’m lost in the bliss.

  Crashing over the edge with him.

  Reaching for him.

  “Fuck,” he roars, his body tensing as he orgasms.

  It’s a sight I need a lot more of in my life and I’m overcome with emotion, an urgency forcing me to sit up and throw my arms around him.

  “I know you have to go back, but I don’t want you to, and I know that’s not what you need to hear, and I never expect you to not go back, but I need you to know how fucking much I miss you when you’re not here.” The words rush out of me, wild and untamed. I will never come between Fury and his club, but fuck it’s hard to share him.

  His arms go around me and he pulls me hard to him. “I know.” It breathes out of him, his emotions as ragged as his physical state.

  He left here four weeks ago with numerous injuries and has come home with more. I shudder to think of the things he’s dealing with in Melbourne, but at least he doesn’t seem to be in as much pain as he was when he left.

  After I clean myself up, he settles us on the bed, spooning me while trailing his fingers over my hip, and presses kisses to my neck and shoulder. We don’t talk for a long time while we simply enjoy being with each other.

  Finally I roll and face him. Hooking my leg over his, I say, “How was Noah?”

  Fury arrived home this morning and spent most of the day with his son. It’s Lynette’s birthday so she wanted Noah at her place tonight before Fury picks him up tomorrow morning. I know Fury would have rather had Noah for the entire time he’s home, but he didn’t deny Lynette her wish, especially since she’s gone out of her way for him.

  He catches my lips in a kiss before answering my question. “Fuck, he’s grown so much in a month.”

  I hate the regret and disappointment I hear in his voice. “I bet he didn’t want to let you go.”

  He chuckles. “I don’t come before cake. He started to cry when I said I had to go, but the minute he spotted Lynette’s cake, I was forgotten.”

  I trace my fingers lazily over his lips. “You know, fatherhood looks good on you.”

  “How?”

  “It’s softened you a little. Calmed that rough side of you. I can’t really describe it, but I’m all about it.” I kiss him again. “It’s sexy as fuck is what it is.”

  His eyes drop to my body as he bosses, “I’m going to eat you again and this time you’re not going to hurry me.”

  Yes.

  God yes.

  “Just FYI, that bossiness will only work for you in the bedroom.”

  He brings his mouth to mine and ravages me before growling, “Spread your legs, princess, and stop fucking talking.”

  A week isn’t long enough with Fury, but it’s all I get so I make the most of it. He spends his days with Noah while I go to work. I spend my nights at his place, getting to know his son as well as learning more about Fury each second we’re together. It’s my idea of heaven.

  The day before he’s to return to Melbourne, King calls me and asks to see me after work. I haven’t spoken with him since our last phone call, but Fury has shared with me the conversation they had before he left Melbourne.

  I agree to visit him on my way to Fury’s place, and just before 6:00 p.m., I pull into his and Mum’s driveway. When I enter their home, I hear him in the lounge room with Meredith, reading to her.

  His back is to me when I round the corner into the room, and I slow so I can watch him with my sister. I love seeing him with his kids; it’s a whole other King to the harsh man who rules an MC.

  “Zara!” Meredith spots me and slides off the couch to run my way.

  I crouch and welcome her with a hug. “How’s my girl?”

  “Daddy’s reading to me!”

  “I can see that.”

  “We’re gonna play, too!”

  “Hey, baby,” Mum says, entering the room with a smile on her face. It’s the kind of smile I haven’t seen in a while, and it makes me wonder if she and King have sorted some stuff out.

  “Hey,” I greet her. “You’re looking good. Did you get your hair cut?”

  Her smile grows. “Yeah. What do you think?”

  She’s cut half her hair off and it suits her. “It makes you look younger. I love it.”

  She raises her brows at King. “See, it makes me look younger.”

  He comes towards us, his eyes glued to her. “You already looked young. You didn’t need to cut your hair to do that.”

  Oh wow, they’ve definitely sorted something out if the way they’re looking at each other is any indication. I almost feel like I should take the kids and leave them alone.

  He presses a kiss to her forehead. “Can you take Meredith for a bit?”

  She scoops Meredith into her arms, gives me one last smile, and leaves King and me alone.

  I nod at his sling. “How are you feeling?”

  His full attention is now blasted my way, those dark eyes of his turning intense. “I didn’t get you to come here to discuss my shoulder. I got you here to tell you I made a mistake.”

  I blink.

  I don’t think I’ve ever heard King utter the words “I made a mistake.”

  “Okay,” I say, not sure what else to go with.

  “When you were hurt, I felt fucking useless, Zara. And that was before I knew the extent of it. I wanted to do whatever it took to ensure no one ever fucked with you again. When you then told me someone had broken your heart, I felt useless again. This father gig is hard, and I’ll be the first to admit I don’t always handle it well. When I realised it was Fury who’d broken your heart, I saw fucking red.” He pauses. “But a lot of that came from shit I’ve been carrying with me for decades; my own shit, not yours or his. I fucked up, and you will never know the regret I have over putting our relationship at risk.”

  My arms go around him without thought. I don’t need to think, because my emotions own me when it comes to King. He puts his arm around me, too, and we stay like this for a long while. When I let him go, I look up into his eyes. “Just so you know, you handle this fathering gig pretty well most of the time.”

  His eyes search mine. “We’re good?”

  “We were always good, King. I won’t l
et you ruin a good thing. Not ever. Are you and Fury good?”

  “We will be.”

  “Then all is well in my world.”

  He gives me a King smile. It’s not a smile with his mouth, but rather a smile with his eyes. “That’s all I want for you.”

  King might be a stubborn, difficult, inflexible man sometimes, but at his core, he has a lot of love to give. He just goes about showing it the wrong way sometimes. He’s lucky he has me for a daughter; like I told him, I won’t let him ruin a good thing.

  “Daddy! I want Bob!”

  Fury’s facing me when Noah calls out for his father. We’re in the kitchen; he’s in the lounge room watching TV. “Bob will be the fucking death of me,” he says softly so Noah can’t hear.

  I laugh and reach for his shirt. Gripping it, I say, “You want me to go hang out with him while you do whatever you need to do?”

  I came from King’s to find Fury with a whole heap of paperwork spread out over his kitchen counter. He’s spent the last twenty minutes alternating between kissing me, answering Noah’s questions, and trying to read the paperwork.

  At my offer to go hang out with his son, his features relax more than they already did when I arrived, and he places his hands to my head and runs his fingers through my hair. “I love you, Zara.”

  “I know. I’m worth loving, especially since I like kids and can—”

  His eyes burn with intensity when he says, “No, I love you.” His voice has turned a little growly and a whole lot firm, like he needs me to stop and really listen to what he’s saying.

  My heart slows.

  My tummy fills with butterflies.

  My soul smiles.

  Placing my hands to his arms, I say, “I love you, too.”

  His mouth crashes down onto mine and his hand goes to the nape of my neck. He kisses me with the kind of intensity that leaves me breathless. When he lets me go, he says, “I want a family with you, a home with you, and a life where you’re the last person I see every night. I want to grow old staring at that ass of yours.”