King's Wrath (Sydney Storm MC 5)

She moved her hand from my cheek and smiled. “Thank you.”

The moment caught me by surprise. This was the Ivy I’d loved. Softer, open, laid bare. Vulnerable. When there were no walls between us, anything felt possible. I liked the sense of calm and ease that brought with it.

I nodded. “I have a question for you. Did you know Tony had a club member in his pocket?”

“No. Why?”

I straightened, uncrossing my arms. “We’ve found a rat, and I know Tony had someone feeding him club information, but I don’t know if that information was coming from just one person or whether there are more out there I need to be looking for.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t know about this, sorry. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he had more than one. Tony has always been anal about knowing every little detail about everything, so it’d make sense that he wouldn’t just rely on one person.”

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with this, King. It’s all my fault.” Her voice cracked as tears fell down her cheeks.

My arms were around her before I even thought about it. Pulling her close, I cupped the back of

her head and pressed it to my chest. “Don’t ever fucking apologise for shit you had no control over. This is all on Tony. Not you.”

Her arms circled me, and she held on tight. “If I’d never married him, this wouldn’t be happening to you now.”

If I hadn’t fucked our relationship all those years ago, she wouldn’t have married him. This was on me, not her, and I’d be the one to fix it.

Just under three hours later, I stared at our rat as he sat tied to a chair in the middle of our warehouse. Nervousness blazed from his eyes as he watched me. Good. He should have been fucking nervous, because what I had planned for him, he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy.

Dragging a chair over, I sat in front of him and yanked the gag from his mouth. “What’s it been, Tate, three years since we’ve spoken?”

He swallowed hard a few times, seemingly relieved to be rid of the gag. “Not fucking long enough.”

I felt surprisingly calm considering the anger raging through me and what I was about to do with it. But that was usually the way when I knew what was coming. It was only when shit crept up on me, catching me off guard that my crazy took over. I wasn’t sure which I preferred, but if I’d been put on the spot and forced to decide, I’d have to say this way was my preference. Having had the time to contemplate in painstaking detail every hurt I would inflict doubled my pleasure.

Every blow.

Every bruise.

Every cut.

The mental imagery was painted by the strokes of my wrath and tended to by my burning need for retribution. Sometimes that need was so strong and so violent I believed it wasn’t just about the matter at hand. I never forgot a wrong, and they had a way of adding up in my head. Every now and then, someone suffered at my hands when I was dancing to the beat of decades’ worth of hurts.

Today I had my fucking dancing shoes on.

“So you’ve been talking to Tony Romano about us. And the feds. Anyone else I should know about?”

His lips pulled up into a scowl. “I’ve got nothing to say to you, King.”

I arched a brow. “Really?”

He didn’t reply to that. Just sat there staring at me.

And still my calm state remained.

I lifted my gaze and looked at Hyde who stood behind him. Next to him was Devil. Behind me were Axe and Kick. Everyone was impatient for this to happen. Everyone but me. For once, I was enjoying taking it slowly.

“King.”

I turned at the sound of Nitro’s voice and found him walking my way. Standing, I took a step towards him, but thought better of my plan and, without warning, faced Tate again and punched him hard in the face, knocking him and the chair backwards. His head hit the cement floor with a hard whack, activating bright lights in my brain. Bright fucking lights of joy.

I then gave my attention to Nitro, grinning. “It’s about fucking time they let you out.”