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I eyed him. “I have a job for you before that happens.” I detailed the club’s problem with Marx and told Ghost to find someone to fix that problem.
He nodded. “I may already have someone in mind.”
I stood. “Good. Hyde’ll be in touch. Until then, sit tight and call us if you come across anything else.”
As we left the prison, Hyde looked at me with determination. “I’m going to talk to Ivy.”
My reaction surprised me. He’d wanted to talk to her the other day, too, but I didn’t want to inflict him on Ivy. It was a gut-deep response. Hyde interrogated people the same way he took to them with his fists—he was savage and ruthless in his quest to extract information. As much as my head screamed yes to this, every fibre of my being refused to agree.
“No.”
“You sure about that, brother? She could be our best bet to find Romano.”
“No.”
“You’re too close to this. I might get more from her.”
Fuck. “No.”
“King, think with your head and not your dick.”
He was a stubborn fucking bastard. He wouldn’t let this go. “I’m not thinking with my fucking dick, brother.” Or was I? I scrubbed my hand over my face. Jesus fucking Christ. “Just don’t fucking hurt her.”
His stubborn side showed itself. “If she has info the club needs, I’ll go down swinging to get it.”
No fucking way would I allow him to harm her. “I want in that room.”
“King,” his voice hardened, “you’re not setting foot in that room. I don’t give a fuck if I have to knock you out, I’m questioning her, and I’ll do whatever it takes to save our club.”
Fuck.
Shit was spiralling.
And I couldn’t fucking stop it.
I felt ripped apart by my allegiances. I’d loved Ivy for a long time. Could I allow her to become caught up in this? Would I allow Hyde to do whatever it took to get her to talk?
Had I fallen that far down the fucking black hole that I no longer cared what happened to her?
I exhaled a harsh breath and met Hyde’s gaze. “Just get it done. I don’t want to fucking know the details.”
20
King
* * *
I met Jen three years after I pushed Ivy away. I hadn’t been looking for a woman to share my bed with, but she’d forced her way into my life and then into my heart. We’d met at a party thrown by a club member. She was drunk and had tried to fuck me in the bathroom. I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t a man who took advantage of drunk women. I’d said no and left, but not before I’d found someone to get her home so some other asshole couldn’t force himself on her. A week later, she’d turned up at the clubhouse to thank me for it. She’d called me a gentleman, and I’d laughed for the first time in a long fucking time. That had been the start of our journey down a dark, fucked-up path of jealousy, raging arguments, destructive behaviour, and resentments we never found our way through.
Sex had been our glue; Jen liked it brutal, and she quickly worked out that it kept me coming back for more. She understood that after a long day taking care of club shit, all I’d wanted to come home to was a woman who’d let me lose myself in her so I could wipe the day from my mind. She’d saved the fights for the daytime and the sex for the nights. It worked until she figured out I’d never love her the way she wanted. I’d loved her, but I’d never hand every last piece of myself over to anyone again, and Jen wanted to collect those pieces like fucking trophies. In the end, she’d cheated on me, and I’d walked away. The betrayal had stung because they always did, but I couldn’t find it in me to hate her. I’d known the cheating was because I refused to give her everything I’d given Ivy. I could hardly fault her for my shortcomings.
I’d felt guilt more than anger.
I’d ruined another woman, another relationship.
Kick had found a place for her out by the creek she’d loved to visit. As I’d said goodbye, memories had rushed at me of the times I’d taken her there. Fuck, memories always carved jagged grooves deep in me. If I could have avoided it, I wouldn’t have visited her grave. But I owed her that. I fucking owed her a lot more than that, but since I could never pay those debts, this was all I had to give.
I’d sat with her for an hour, and when I was done, I’d headed back to the clubhouse and spent the night obliterating every memory from my mind. Turned out Jen had been hell alive, and she was still hell for me dead. Kick dropped me at the hospital just after midnight. “No fucking way am I letting you on the road in this state,” he’d said. What he didn’t know was that there was no fucking way I’d ever allow myself on the roads in this state.
