War of Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2)

I drop my gaze to his body, noting again the damage he’s suffered. It looks like he’s been to war, and while I want nothing more than to take care of him, I don’t put my hands on him. I can’t even imagine the kind of pain he’s in; I don’t want to make it worse.

Tipping my face back up to meet his gaze, he says, “I’m good, princess. You don’t need to worry about me.”

I’m so engrossed in Fury, I don’t hear the door open or someone entering the room until a dark voice sounds behind me.

“What the fuck is happening here?”

I jump at King’s voice and turn to look at him.

Holy shit.

39

Fury

* * *

The room fills with King’s wrath as his eyes bore into mine. He doesn’t need to say another word for me to know he’s brought a storm like I’ve never known with him. My father was a violent man, and as a kid I was scared of him, but King isn’t just violent; he’s a ruthless and unforgiving savage when he’s at his worst. He’s a fucking madman when he can’t be reasoned with, and that’s far worse than my father ever was.

“I asked a fucking question,” he roars, “and I want a fucking answer.”

Confusion is written all over Zara who says, “What the hell, King?”

“You need to—” I start, but he cuts me off.

Eyes to Zara, he demands, “Is he the one who broke your heart four years ago?”

Her eyes widen as understanding crashes into her. Moving off the bed, she faces him. “No, it wasn’t like that. I—”

“How the fuck was it then? Because I seem to recall you telling me a guy broke your heart—”

I’ve fucking heard enough. Ignoring the pain it causes, I stand and move towards him. “Don’t talk to her like that.” The words crash out of me, my own anger stirred. “This shit is between you and me.”

He works his jaw, his face an artwork of rage. “I fucking knew that day I saw you following her out of that hallway that you were with her. I put my fucking trust in you, Fury, and you lied to my face.”

“I didn’t lie. You asked me if we were sleeping together. We weren’t. I told—”

“You fucking expect me to believe that? Again?”

“King,” Zara steps forward, “we weren’t sleeping together. I promise you that.”

He swings his head to her. “You need to step outside.” Fuck. His voice is hard, even to her.

She recoils like he slapped her, but then straightens her shoulders and says with uncompromising strength, “I’m not leaving. You can stand there and throw your weight around all you like, but I am not going anywhere.”

“This is my fucking clubhouse, Zara, and you will do as I say.”

I jerk my chin at her. “You should go, princess.”

That pisses her off and she stares at me. “You’re fucking serious, aren’t you? He’s my father; I should be here.”

From what I’m picking up, this has little to do with her being his daughter. Four years ago, it did, but now I’m fairly fucking sure it has everything to do with the fact he thinks I lied to him. And while I didn’t technically lie, I also didn’t give him the full truth, so I need to face the storm.

“Let me deal with this,” I say, my voice firm.

With one last glare sent my way, and anothe

r at King, she mutters her frustration and exits the room, slamming the door on her way out.