King (Sydney Storm MC 7)

“Fucking hell, Axe, just send me the fucking address.”

He turned silent for a beat before saying, “Christ, you’re wound tight, Zac—”

“Yeah. The club’s got some shit coming its way if we don’t take care of this motherfucker. So send me the address and then we can all get the fuck on with sorting this mess out.”

He blew out a long breath. “You owe me for this, and I’ll be calling in the favour soon.”

I didn’t bother asking him what for. Axe kept shit close to his chest until he no longer needed to, so chances were high he wouldn’t share it with me yet. My gut instinct was that it had something to do with his ex. Axe left town a little while ago to get away from all their drama, but he’d returned almost as fast as he’d left. And they’d been arguing ever since.

We ended the call and a text came through soon after with an address that I forwarded to Nitro. “Take Kick and check this address out for our guy,” I said to him. “And if he’s there, don’t hurt him too bad. Save that for me.”

It had been a while since I’d had to get my hands dirty. A long fucking while. And that was half the problem between Lily and me at the moment. I needed to rid my body of the frustration I felt over someone gunning for my club. Getting some blood on my hands would help us a whole fucking lot.

4

Lily

“Lily, darling, slow down and listen to me. I really think you will regret it if you don’t get married in a church this time.”

My mother was killing me. Slowly. And daily. Marrying King was the thing I wanted most in the world right now, but with each day came a whole new round of my mother’s ideas for the wedding. Eloping was starting to feel like a much better option.

Placing the knife I held down—after considering stabbing her with it—I said, “I’m not getting married in a church, Mum. I’ve told you this already, so please don’t keep going on about it.”

She looked at me with exasperation and sighed. “Why must you insist on arguing with me over every little detail of this wedding?”

My eyes widened. “It’s my wedding. That’s why.” I need a smoke. I should never have given up.

She waved her hand in the air at me. “Well, I can see I’m not going to get anywhere with you this morning. When will King be home? Maybe I should come and talk to him about this.”

I placed the sausages I’d cooked for King’s breakfast into a container and said, “You know what? That sounds like the best idea you’ve had in a long time. I’ll call you when he gets home so you can come talk to him.”

Picking up her handbag, she shook her head at me like I was someone she couldn’t fathom and said, “Good. And I’m bringing my folder of ideas with me. The ones you’ve already pooh-poohed. He should at least get to take a look at them. Maybe he’ll see sense where you couldn’t. I mean, wanting to hold the reception in a marquee outside at this time of year is absolutely ridiculous. You’ll most likely get rained on and the whole thing will be ruined. Not to mention how cold it will be.”

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

The front door closed, signalling her exit from my house. I collapsed onto a chair at the dining table and screamed out, “Aaarghhh. I’m going to kill her!”

All the shitty memories of my first wedding came screeching back. We’d argued over a church wedding then, too. I’d been younger, though, with more energy,

and I’d found it a lot easier to just drown her out. With everything I had going on these days—work, the kids, King, and the wedding—my energy was too low for this. I’d be lucky to make it to the wedding in one piece the way we were going.

Okay, get your shit together and take King some food. Then you can go and have a massage or a pedicure or something that will take your mind off her.

I packed everything up, grabbed my car keys, and drove to the clubhouse. No way was I not taking him food. He could tell me to stay away, but this was one way I could help him. God knew he refused almost all my other efforts.

It was quiet when I arrived. There was a low hum of voices I could hear from the direction of King’s office, but that was it. Not unusual for a Saturday morning, and it meant I could get in, drop the food off for him, and leave without anyone stopping me for a chat.

I was slowly finding my way with the club, making an effort to get to know everyone and their families. Some of the women hadn’t been too welcoming. They’d made it clear they’d wait and see if I had the grit needed to be a president’s old lady before having anything to do with me. Apparently I wasn’t wild enough for them. Not edgy enough or some shit. They didn’t understand what a suburban mum, good girl like me wanted with an MC president. Whenever I saw them at the clubhouse, they didn’t hide their contempt. But I wasn’t about to let some bitches who had nothing better to do with their time than sit around talking shit about me get in my way. I may not have fit their idea of who King should be with, but when the time came for me to stand the fuck up, they’d see just what I was made of.

I’d just placed the container of food for King in the fridge when Devil entered the kitchen. His easy smile came my way when he saw me. “Mornin’, Lily. You’re here early.”