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“Go to hell,” Marty said, barely managing to get the words out.
King’s mouth spread out into a wicked grin. Pulling his knife from its sheath, he said, “If anyone’s going to hell today, it’s you, not me.” Pressing the tip of his blade to Marty’s chest, he added, “I’ll happily send you there if you don’t give me what I want.”
Marty’s eyes widened as he realised where King was going with this. I doubted King would make good on that threat, though. If there was one thing he was really fucking good at, it was making people think his level of crazy meant he had no conscience, but I knew better. Sure, he’d done things in his life that most people would have nightmares from, but they weighed heavily on him. I’d been witness in the past to just how much. That was something, though, that I’d never tell another soul. It was King’s private life, not mine to share. I wasn’t sure if anyone else in the club had ever seen King the way I had, so most members bought into his crazy.
Marty’s back pressed into the wall in an effort to move away from King, but he had nowhere to go. “Fuck, man, I can’t—”
King dropped his knife beside him, took Marty’s face in both hands and smashed his head backwards into the wall. “Stop fucking talking unless it’s to give me some useful information.”
“Wait! Don’t kill him! I’ll tell you what you want to know,” the woman cried out. Marty grunted something unintelligible as he fought to move. King had put him in a world of hurt, though, and he was unable to push up off the floor.
Without a moment’s hesitation, King swiped his knife off the floor and stalked to the bed. “Where is he?”
She stared up at him with fearful eyes. Her body was tense with anxiety. “You promise not to kill us?”
“Fuck, bitch,” Marty muttered. “Shut the fuck up.”
King gripped her hair at the back of her head. Yanking back on it, he said, “You give me what I want, and I won’t touch another hair on either of your heads.”
Ignoring Marty’s desperate pleas to shut up, she said, “He’s left Sydney. He found out you were looking for him, and he cleared out yesterday. Gone to Brisbane, I think.”
Marty’s “fuck” was enough to tell both of us that she wasn’t lying. King let her go and glanced at me. “Looks like it’s time to visit the Brisbane boys.”
“You wanna leave today?”
He didn’t reply, but rather motioned for me to follow him out of the house. When we stood outside at our bikes, he said, “I’m going to take Kick and Nitro with me. I want you to look after Jen while I’m gone.”
I frowned. “Who does she need looking after from if the asshole who was hurting her is in Brisbane?”
“She’s pregnant, Devil. I want you to make sure she stays that way.”
“You should buy me a drink,” I said to Tatum later that night when I found her and Monroe sitting at the bar at Flirt. I’d just checked in on Jen before heading to the pub to see if Hailee’s band was playing.
Tatum’s eyes met mine. Knowingly. “The band has just taken a break. They’ll be back in about half an hour, but I think I saw Hailee floating around chatting with people, so you could go look for her now. And then if you still want a drink, I’ll buy you one.”
I grinned. “I like the way you think, Tatum.”
Her gaze shifted to something behind me, and she lifted her chin. “Go. She just walked past us.”
“I’ll be back for that drink,” I said before leaving her to go in search of Hailee.
I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind all week. Fuck, I’d even looked up the greyhound shit that she’d mentioned. And the more I thought about her, the more determined I was to spend time with her.
I followed her as she weaved in and out between people on her way to the corner of the pub where her bandmates sat. When I caught up with her, I reached for her arm and stopped her.
She spun around and met my gaze. “Devil.” My name left her mouth on a gush of breathlessness, and I sensed her pleasure at seeing me again.
The crowded pub forced our bodies together, and I found myself going from mildly turned-on to completely fucking captivated. She consumed every one of my senses. The people around us failed to exist; my mind and body were focused entirely on her.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Possibly not the best use of my time with her, but it captured her attention.
Her eyes lit up and she arched her back a little, which forced her tits closer to me. Biting her lip, she smiled and said, “And you’re hot as sin and just as dangerous, I bet.”
I had to fight with myself not to touch her. She was so damn close and so fucking sexy. Even in her sweaty just-performed state, she was sexy as hell to me. Images of her with sweat-slicked skin, her long hair stuck to it, hit me, and I groaned.
“What time do you finish tonight?”
“In about an hour or so. Why?”
