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I stood to leave. “Yeah.”

Until then, I’d stay the fuck away from her. If I had any hope of getting my club through this alive, I needed to keep Ivy out of my sight.

Kree opened her front door when I knocked on it late that night, and shook her head at me. “King, it’s nearly eleven thirty, which is when most normal people are either in bed or about to be. I know you like to drop in unannounced, but your visits are getting later and later.”

I’d been keeping an eye on Kree since she’d come to work for the club as a bartender. Her cousin Zane who I’d known for over fourteen years, had asked me to watch over her while he dealt with her abusive ex in Brisbane. After the night I stopped by last Christmas to give her some cash when I knew she was struggling, I’d come by regularly. It was a fucking mystery to me why, but being around her calmed me. And I’d needed some fucking calming over the last few months.

Ignoring her speech, I entered her home. “You should know by now I’m not like normal people.”

She closed the door and muttered, “Yeah, but I’m still holding out hope for a change.”

I made my way to her kitchen and the cupboard that housed my bottle of rum. She never argued with me when I left it here. Kree seemed to know what to bother arguing over and what battles to avoid. Smart woman.

I met her gaze and held up the bottle. “You want one?”

Sighing, she nodded. “Yeah, I could do with one tonight.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s going on?” I glanced around the kitchen and added, “Why aren’t your candles lit?” Usually she had a fuckload of them blazing in all rooms. It concerned the hell out of me that she’d burn her house down one day, but it concerned me more that she’d deviated from doing something she always did.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. And”—she shrugged—“I just didn’t feel like burning them tonight.”

She may have been smart, which I liked, but she was also fucking stubborn and proud. This wasn’t the time for that. “Spit it out, Kree, and don’t leave anything out.”

Irritation flared in her eyes. Taking the drink I offered her, she downed almost half of it before saying, “I like you, King, but man, you are difficult. Sometimes a woman just wants to handle her own shit.”

I took a long swig of rum. If her argumentative side was coming out to play tonight, I was going to need it more than I already did. “And sometimes a woman needs to know when to let a man handle it.”

Silence filled the room while we watched and waited for the other to make the next move.

Finally, she reached into one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a folder filled with paperwork. Dumping it on the counter, she opened it and passed me the top document. “My husband is being an asshole. That’s what’s wrong.”

After I read the letter from her husband’s lawyer, I growled, “Your husband is being more than a fucking asshole, Kree. Why the fuck hasn’t Zane dealt with him yet?”

Her husband, Don, was using the law to draw her out of hiding by applying for a parenting order. There was no way Kree would agree to this, which meant she’d have to fight him. As far as I was concerned, Zane simply needed to put a fucking bullet in his head. That would solve her problem once and for all. We’d discussed this once, and he’d told me he did things differently to me. I’d let it go at the time, but if he couldn’t fix this for her, I would.

“Zane sent me that letter because Don’s lawyers sent it to him, not knowing where I am. He told me not to worry and that he’s dealing with it. But that doesn’t make this any easier. I know Don, and he has ways of finding people.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, alerting me to how worried she was. This was unlike Kree who was usually strong and calm.

I placed the letter back in the folder and shoved the folder in the drawer. “I’m moving you and the kids to the clubhouse.”

Her eyes widened. “What? No. The kids don’t need any further disruptions to their routines, King. They’ve finally started making some friends in the street. I don’t want to take them away from that. Not again.”

“It’s either that or you guys stay here and wait for Don to find you. And besides, we’ve got club shit going on that also means you need to be moved. I’m not taking any chances, Kree.”

“So this is one of those situations that I need to let a man handle?”

I scrubbed my face. “Fuck, don’t fucking argue with me. Not tonight.”

Something I said or the tone I used caused her to soften. “When?”

I finished my drink. “Now. Pack a bag.”

The softness I’d manage to stir in her disappeared, replaced with a scowl. “You test me, King, that’s for bloody sure.”

With that, she left me alone while she packed and woke the kids. Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way to the clubhouse, Kree sitting next to me with her arms crossed, signalling her annoyance, and the kids sleepily whinging in the back. I paid no attention to any of it. Keeping people alive consumed my focus, and I would do whatever that took. Whoever was fucking with my club would never have the chance to hurt someone close to me again. I’d make fucking sure of that.

15

King

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