The Darkest Of Light (The Kings of Retribution MC)

After a beat, Sam chimes in again breaking another intense moment.

"So, want someone to go to the doctor with you?"

"No. I’ll be okay on my own. Besides we don’t want to fuel the rumor mill. Someone is bound to see us. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about you."

"I don’t give a fuck what people will assume Alba. You’re my friend. Whatever you need, I’m there." Leaning my head on his shoulder.

"Thanks, Sam. You truly are an amazing friend." Putting his arm around me he gives my shoulders a light squeeze.

"You’re not so bad yourself, little momma." His nickname making me smile.

I head back to my dorm after my lunch with Sam. I’m standing at the door to my room fishing my keys from my bag. Sliding my key into the lock, I realize it’s already unlocked. Leah must be back. Walking in, I drop my bag on the floor by the door and toss my keys on my desk. I don’t see her. Maybe she’s in the bathroom. Walking over, I knock on the door.

"Leah, you in there?" Nothing. Turning the knob, I open the bathroom door—empty. Turning back around, I glance over to her side of the room and I don’t see her bookbag, so I know she’s not been back since she left for class. I suddenly get an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was the last to leave the room. I am positive I locked the door. Running my sweaty palms down my pant legs, I begin to scan the room. Nothing seems out of place. Except one thing. The top drawer to my dresser is half open.

Walking over to my dresser, I pull the drawer the rest of the way open and find it a mess. All my bras and panties have been rummaged through. I know this because I am a neat freak. I keep my things folded and organized by color. Don’t judge. That’s just the way I am. Being unorganized stresses me out.

I feel like I’m going to be sick, and it’s not morning sickness that has me feeling this way. No, what has the bile rising in my throat is the fact that someone was in my room, and the sicko was in my underwear drawer. The hairs on my arm stand, and I know in the pit of my stomach something is off. The flowers, the note left on my truck, and now this. Okay Alba, deep breaths. Maybe I’m over thinking this. There could be reasonable explanations for all these things. Only I know there’s not. The only people I know at school are Leah and Sam. Neither of them would do this.

My phone ringing causes me to jump.

"Shit." I rasp, clutching my hand to my chest. Picking my cell up off my desk, I smile when I see Bella calling.

"Hello."

"Hey, whatcha doin’?"

"Nothing at the moment, what’s up?" I ask Bella.

"I wanted to see if you can come home this weekend."

"Um… I don’t—” Cutting me off Bella adds.

"Please, Alba. All the guys are going to be gone on club business this weekend. Plus, I miss you. Come on Alba, don’t make me beg."

After thinking for a moment, I agree maybe I should get away for a couple of days. Considering I’m a little freaked out right now, home sounds like a good idea. And Bella did say the guys would be gone. I won’t have to worry about running into Gabriel.

"Fine, I’ll come home. I can leave after my class tomorrow. I should be there around 5:00pm."

"Yes!" Bella exclaims. "See you tomorrow, sis."

Chuckling, I reply, "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Chapter Ten

Gabriel

My blood is pumping so hard I feel the throb of my heartbeat coursing through the veins in my neck. I should have known my past would come back to haunt me in real life and not just in my dreams. I was young and blinded by revenge at the time. I didn’t give two fucks about the repercussions. I never expected it to be used against me and my club seven years later. This shit right here is just the type of reason I needed—no—had to push Alba away. My past and my lifestyle has already put my sister in harm’s way, I can’t put Alba in the same path of destruction.

The sooner we can find out what the hell Santino wants from our club—the sooner I can be done with him. And by done, I mean I’m going to put a bullet in him. Unless he’s dead, he will always be a threat.

As soon as we pull onto Oak Street, which is about four blocks from Santino’s, two Black sedans fall in behind us following the rest of the way to the meet up point, until we come up on the long driveway that leads to a large brick home located a few houses down from where we passed the country club’s main entrance. No gates. No trees. A wide-open landscape with the East Bay as its backdrop. Looks can be deceiving. Someone of his caliber will have other security measures in place.

Just as we get about halfway down the driveway the cars following slow to a stop. Not pausing, we continue to ride until we pull around into a circular driveway. One by one we kill our bikes. Quinn lifts his chin, gesturing to the rooftop where four men walk into view holding rifles and peer down at us over the edge. The front door to the home opens and two motherfuckers wearing matching black suits and slicked back hair step out. Dismounting our bikes, we walk towards the goons.

"Leave your weapons here." The one to my right says.

"Not gonna happen." Prez challenges, which causes the other guy to step forward. Jake who isn’t the least bit fazed by the guy, stands with his arms crossed in a stare off.