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Brothers by choice. Brothers by heart. Brothers with pride.
In this life and the next, together we fly.
We are the Cruz Kings, ride or die.
The moment the chant ends, Cain’s voice comes over his megaphone, and I tell you what, it’s a fucking relief.
“Come and get it!” Cain calls, all eyes shifting up the bar to where he has pitchers of beer, bottles of whiskey, and fucking trays of blow lined up.
My brothers move quickly like they aren’t already half fucking cut, and the Cruz Cunts wait until the men have taken their selections before taking their own.
“I think I’m already drunk,” Zoe says quietly next to me, and I glance down into her blue eyes that in fact do look a little drunk.
“Go find a seat. I’ll get you some water.” I offer, and she reaches up on her tiptoes to press her lips to mine.
It’s a different sort of kiss. Much like the pecks I find myself placing on her head at times, and fuck, it feels more meaningful than the ones where our tongues dance and we devour each other.
This one feels more out of, dare I say it, love.
Fucking hell. I’ve turned into a sap.
Love? Really?
First, I’m pretty sure love is what I’m feeling, and now, I’m analyzing Zoe’s actions and declaring them as love. And fuck, I don’t even hate it. As long as there is still filthy fucking involved, I’m here for it and whatever else Zoe Miller wants to throw at me.
I watch my princess walk off to help Alana pull Slasher to his feet before I head behind the bar and grab Zoe a bottle of water, and when I return to her, she’s found a booth toward the back away from everyone.
Sliding in next to her, I hand her the water and watch her guzzle half the bottle down as I sip on a beer.
“You doing okay, Princess?” I ask, and she nods, before frowning.
“I should be asking you that.”
“If you call me princess, we are going to have a real fucking problem.” I snap, which makes her giggle.
Fuck. I’ve missed that sound. The last few days have been a fucking nightmare, and I wish like hell it can return to normal. But it can’t. It will never be normal again. Not after the loss we just suffered and having been displaced. There are so many unanswered questions, and it’s fucking eating at me.
“Princess, what was going on earlier when the Cruz Cunts wouldn’t pick up their shot glasses for Gunner?”
Zoe cringes, and glances across the room to where the girls are starting to mingle with my brothers.
“I didn’t want to say anything about it today, Gray. It can wait until tomorrow.” She tries to brush it off, but I glare at her, and she sighs. “Okay, fine. But just know that the last thing I want to do is ruin your memory of your best friend.”
My brows shoot up at her words. “Start talking, Zo.”
Sighing again, she angles herself to me. “So it turns out that Gunner wasn’t who you thought he was. Or maybe you did.” She frowns. “I’m not sure.”
“Explain.” I demand, and she nods, taking my hand in hers.
“You remember how I told you I went to his room that one time?”
“How can I fucking forget?” I snap, and she sucks her lips in, trying not to smile before composing herself.
“Well, I told you I found him with Rhiannon. He was cutting her, and she told me they were role playing. But it turns out they weren’t. He had her hog-tied and was cutting her against her will.”
She falls quiet, her eyes dancing between mine as she studies me, waiting for my reaction.
“I think you’re mistaken.” I snap, and her eyes turn to slits.
