Throne of Scars (Lost Kings MC 20)

“Aw, you know I can’t swim,” Shelby says.

“No time for swimming.” Rooster moves faster, slamming into another metal door and leading us down more stairs.

The air cools and an earthier smell surrounds us. Eventually we come to another tunnel. Rooster moves through it quickly, stopping at another metal door. He punches in a code and the door slides open.

“Looky here. A big ol’ doomsday bunker.” Shelby peers at the low ceiling and studies our surroundings as we enter. “Who knew.”

“Nothin’ ruffles her, huh?” I ask Rooster.

“Not much.” He pulls her closer. “All right. We got rooms here.” He points to the left.

Looks more like prison cells or interrogation rooms. This is more than doomsday bunker. It’s the club’s murder chamber.

“Sleeping bags in that locker.” Jigsaw taps a large metal cabinet and a metallic echo fills the air.

The hallway opens into a larger room with dirty, stained tile. A few chairs, a big-screen television, electronics, and a collection of movies.

“I’d keep the noise and power usage to a minimum,” Rooster says, eyeing the television. “We’ve never really tested how soundproof it is.”

“So this isn’t a regular occurrence?” I ask.

“This? Not since I’ve been a member here.” Rooster swivels his head between Shelby and me. “I gotta go up there and help Z.”

“Go, brother. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Last thing we want is you going back inside.” He rests his hand on my shoulder. “Cops shouldn’t be able to find their way down here, but I can’t guarantee it.”

Nothing in life is ever guaranteed. “I took the risk. I knew when I came to visit that it violated my parole, Rooster. If I get caught, I get caught. I ain’t gonna blame anyone but myself.” The last thing I want is him to worry about me when he needs to help protect the club.

His mouth turns down and his troubled eyes search the room. “I’ll be all right.” I glance at Shelby and Serena sitting at the table playing with a deck of cards. “Looks like the girls are already entertaining each other.”

“There’s some food in the kitchen,” Jigsaw says. “A bathroom that way.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “No cell reception down here. There’s a weapons locker, but—”

“Yeah, I ain’t gonna put the girls at risk to go out like some cult leader,” I assure them. “Max I’m facing is a year back inside. Ain’t worth getting riddled with bullets over.”

Rooster nods stiffly. “All right. Let me talk to Shelby real quick, then we gotta go.”

“Come ‘ere, chickadee,” he calls out as he strides toward her. She jumps up and hurries over to him. The two of them talk quietly for a few minutes. When he picks her up and she wraps her legs around him, I decide to give them privacy and join Serena in the kitchen.

Her anxious face punches me in the chest. “It’s gonna be all right, buttercup.”

“The clubhouse has never been searched that I know of.” She bites her lip. “I remember the cops coming to question Murphy once. But Sway wouldn’t let them inside. Murphy left with them.”

“Shit happens. Z wouldn’t let anything incriminating be left around. I trust him.”

Her worried eyes meet mine. “This won’t look bad for Z, though, right? Sway won’t try to use it against him, will he? Isn’t your national president supposed to visit? Z’s done a lot to fix this club up. It’s not fair—” She bites her lip again. “Never mind. I know that’s all club business.”

“Come here.” I wrap my arm around her and drag her chair closer, then pull her into my lap. “I love that you’re worried about that and I love how much respect you’ve got for Z. Whatever happens, we’ll all work through it.”

“Okay.” She rests her head against my shoulder and her body finally relaxes.

Rooster pops into the kitchen. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, brother.”

He leans over the table and bumps my fist before taking off.

Shelby sighs and drops into the chair across from me. She scoops up the scattered cards and I realize these aren’t playing cards. At least no playing cards I’ve ever seen. They’ve got elaborate drawings and shiny particles that catch the light. Little pieces of artwork.

“Looks like we’ve got time to kill.” Shelby shuffles the cards and grins at me. “How about I do a reading for ya, Grinder?”

“A reading?”

“Tarot cards? No one’s ever read them for ya?”

“No.”

“I’ll go,” Serena volunteers.

“Okie dokey.” Shelby grins and shuffles the cards faster.

“Oh wow, your ring is so pretty,” Serena says, reaching for Shelby’s left hand.

She sets the cards down and holds out her hand. “Rooster did good picking it, right? Somehow he knew moonstone would be a better engagement ring for me than a diamond.”

“It still has plenty of diamonds surrounding it,” Serena chuckles. “It’s really beautiful. I love that it’s so different.”