Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Fucking hell. A hundred grand.”
My heart pounds. He’s crazy.
“Deal.”
CHAPTER 5
UNWANTED GUEST
CUTTER
I stand stock-still in the entryway to the club bar, relief washing over me. After actively avoiding me all day, Kit’s back where she belongs. Watching her from across the room, my mind races with questions. Where has she been all day? Was she with him? Did she let him kiss her? Touch her? Eyes can be deceiving.
Maybe she knows him and they’re friends. Maybe someone else brought him here. She throws her head back in laughter as the youngest Carnell tips a shot into her mouth.
“Please tell me this is just a weird fucking dream and my baby sister did not bring that train wreck back to our club,” Callan growls, scrubbing his hands down his face. The tattoos on his arm appear to move as he fists his hands, his muscles tensing. Not a weird dream, a fucking nightmare. I want to break the little weasel’s neck.
“Dodger,” Callan calls out to our brother closest to us. Frowning, Dodger places his beer down on a table and marches over.
“Everything all right?”
“The kid with Kitty, how’d he get here?” Callan gestures with a tip of his head.
Cranking his neck to see through the crowd of brothers filling the space, Dodger scratches his chin. “Kitty showed up with him. Can’t say I like her choice. He looks like a junkie. You want me to throw him out? Rough him up a bit?”
“No. Go find Diamond. See if she collected his cell phone when he came in,” Callan tells him before turning to me. “You go pull Kitty aside and see where the fuck she found him so we can drop him back there and pretend this never happened. I’m going to give my old man a heads up. He’s going to be pissed,” Callan hisses, glancing one last time at his sister before his footfalls pound down the hall.
“Who is he?” Dodger asks.
“Best you don’t know. When you get the phone, take it to Pres’s office.”
“On it.”
What are the chances of that little prick being at the club? We need to get him out as quietly as possible and hope the bastard doesn’t find his way back here or remember coming in the first place. Moving through the room, I stalk toward Kitty, her aura drawing me in like a magnet to metal.
I thought she’d be above the petty shit of flaunting some prick in front of me, yet here she is, her hand on his chest, giggling like he’s the funniest fucker in the world. As much as it pains me to admit, perhaps last night really did mark the end of our fucked-up story. That’s what I want to happen—what needs to happen.
Either way, one thing was for sure: I’d rather see her alone forever than with the likes of Nicolas Carnell.
A growl crawls up my throat, a simmering rage bubbling like lava beneath my skin. He’s beneath her. We both are. Chatter and laughter fill the air while rock music rumbles through speakers mounted in every corner of the room. Bodies writhe. Daddy is actively fucking a redhead on top of the bar. Mad Micky, an old timer who used to work as a hired killer, plays pin finger with Green, his blade stabbing with precision and speed between each spread finger, leaving notches of chipped wood. This place isn’t for the faint of heart. You need guts and an invite if you want to party with the Kings, and this pissant had neither.
I step toward Kitty with predatory intent, a sick zap of satisfaction spiking within me when she physically reacts to my approach, jerking with the temptation to take off running. “Don’t fucking do it,” I mouth. Her lips part. Heat blossoms across her cheeks. So beautiful. So fucking mine.
As I grip her wrist heat sears up my arm, spreading like wildfire to my cock, arousing it from slumber. Why do I want her so bad? It’s a compulsion. Fucked-and-chucked her less than twenty-four hours ago, yet a few apologetic words whispered into her ear, and she’d be back in my bed at my mercy. I’m a piece of shit.
The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but if I act on it, I don’t think I’ll ever stop. And keeping her tied to me in secret, not letting her experience what it’s like to have a man who flaunts her like the treasure she is, is cruel. I’m no saint. I’ve been cruel too many times in my life, but not to her.
Fuck, why does she have to be Callan’s sister?
Fate is a sadist.
She squirms like her skin is too tight for her bones as I drag her away from Nicolas, who’s already moving to the next warm body. I manage to get her into the hallway before she tugs her arm free. She folds them over her chest and winces, dropping her hold, a pained hiss slipping from her lips.