King's Wrath (Sydney Storm MC 5)

I gripped both her wrists and stopped her. “I told you last week I wanted to end this, but you didn’t listen.”

Her eyes widened. “And I told you I was willing to change, to work on us, because I love you. I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“No, that’s what you were doing. I never agreed to that.”

She tried to wiggle out of my hold, but I tightened my grasp on her wrists and held her in place. I needed her to take this in.

Her breathing grew ragged. She blinked rapidly to stop tears from falling. Ivy hated crying. That she was close to it now told me I was on the right track. I just needed to push her harder.

“Why are you doing this, King?” she begged. “I don’t understand.”

My chest tightened at her plea. Fuck. This was more difficult than I’d prepared myself for. “All we do is argue. I’m sick to fucking God of it.” And I’ll probably kill you one day if we keep dancing this dance. No fucking way would I allow myself to kill the woman I loved. I needed to know she was safe. Safe from me.

“You’re not sick of it. There’s something else going on here. I want you to tell me what it is.” Her eyes implored me just as much as her words did. Ivy wasn’t giving up without a fight. Because that was what we did. We fought not only over random meaningless shit, but we went to battle for each other. For us.

Jesus, was the threesome not enough to make her walk? To make her hate me? I clenched my jaw. “Ivy. We’re done.” My tone was low, full of warning. I needed her to take note. I did not want to have to speak any more lies to force her hand. Lies that would, by necessity, shatter her.

She yanked her wrists from my hold. Her eyes flashed with the passion that called to me. Fuck, how I loved Ivy’s fire. “We are not done! We’ve been through too much together to ever be done, King. You might be an asshole and possessive as hell and fucked up, but you are also the man who has made me feel more loved than anyone ever has.”

“If you really wanna know what’s going on here, I’ll tell you.

” Sucking in a deep breath, I steeled myself to inflict a level of hurt on her that would kill me to do. “I’ve spent thirteen fucking years propping you up, Ivy. You’re weak. I need a stronger woman by my side. So you need to pack your fucking bags and get the fuck out of my life. This thing between us is over.”

My words hit their intended mark. She froze as they sliced and suffocated her. And those tears of hers finally fell. She wasn’t done with me yet, though. In true Ivy fashion, she had to have the last say. “I tried hard to be the woman you needed, King. I wasn’t perfect, but I fucking tried. You are a hard man to love, let me tell you. Demanding, bossy, irrational, and I’m almost certain you’re half insane. And yet I still loved you through all of that. Even your fucked-up needs when it came to sex weren’t enough to push me away. I might have failed you there, but I fucking tried!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Fuck you for being a motherfucker who can’t keep his dick in his pants. I thought you were so much more than that.”

By the time she was done, black tears streamed down her face as her body shook with anger and hurt. She looked at me like I’d driven a knife through her heart. Like I’d pierced her soul and drained every last drop of love and trust she’d ever been able to find in her darkness.

The worst kind of betrayal comes from those you love.

I’d achieved my goal.

Ivy walked out of my life without a backwards glance.

I stood rooted to the spot watching her leave. Watching my reason for fucking living exit my life. And I vowed never to fall in fucking love again.

11

King

Eight Years Ago

Age 31

* * *

You couldn’t fucking trust people.

Unfortunately, that was a lesson I had to keep learning over and fucking over—from the day I was born to today. This time the lesson came from a man I’d trusted with my life, obliterating any desire I might have had to ever put my faith in anyone again.

I’d dedicated almost a decade to Jethro, believing him and blindly following his directions. After I’d ended my relationship with Ivy, my focus had been completely on him. I’d descended into the pits of hell for him, taking care of the filthy shit he didn’t want to.

I used to think Jethro was everything. He’d been Storm’s president for fifteen years and had taken me in when I’d shown up at the clubhouse with a friend who wanted to join the club. I’d come for a drink and left with a burning desire to be part of a brotherhood unlike any I’d known before. Jethro taught me everything he knew about life and the club. Or so I thought. Turned out he’d only shown me the side of himself he wanted to. He’d kept hidden the fact he stole from the club and harassed members behind closed doors to get them to do shit he wanted. Shit that benefitted him, not the club.

Jethro sneered at me. “Giving up the presidency to you wasn’t enough, huh, King? Now you’re gonna kill me?”

I clenched my jaw. “You gave up the presidency because you’re a lying, thieving motherfucker and wanted to keep the money you’ve stolen from the club more than you wanted to remain president. If you ever thought I’d simply allow you to make me president in return for my silence forever, you were mistaken. That shit will come out in the open tonight. But this between us now, this is for what you did to me and Ivy.”

“What the fuck did I do to you and that bitch?”