Strength from Loyalty (Lost Kings MC 3)

“What did she say?”

He pins me with a hard stare. “She said you told her to go.”

“I meant downstairs, not leave the house.”

“And that you don’t trust her and she’s sick of being lied to. Rock, fix this, man. Stop fucking lying to her.”

“I didn’t lie to her.”

“No, you just didn’t tell her, and that ain’t right. Fuck—we ever got raided, they’d scoop her up right along with the rest of us—”

Cold twists my gut at the thought. “She’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Still take time to sort out, you dick. Tank her career. You got her practically living here. She’s your ol’ lady now. She has a right to know.”

“There’s nothing left. She knows everything now.”

“Does she?”

Okay, I can name a few things she still doesn’t know.

“Get out of here so I can get dressed.” I fucking hate that he’s right about something that pertains to my girl.

After muttering a few more curses at me, he hops next door to his room.

I know I’m to blame for this, and I’m not sure why I reacted the way I did. Maybe because seeing how at ease Hope was with Sparky and the whole operation made me realize I’d been an asshole for hiding shit from her for so long. I don’t give her enough credit. I keep thinking she’s all good girl, when in reality, she has many different facets to her. She’s not a black-and-white kind of person. She lives very much in the gray area right alongside me. We think a lot alike. Protective and loyal to the people we care about. Willing to accept things outside her comfort zone.

On the way to her house, all these thoughts flood my brain as I worry about how to fix this.

Beyond our relationship, I’m stressed the fuck out because Green Street Crew has been pressing me for larger and larger orders. With Sparky’s sick crop, we won’t be able to meet the demand of both GSC and the new thing I put in place with the Demons. Lost Kings have a reputation of being reliable and having quality product. We can’t afford to fuck that up.

Revealing our setup to Hope came at the worst fuckin’ time.

It’s creepy dark when I turn onto her road. Her car isn’t in the driveway, so I almost leave. But I know my girl. She’s sneaky. Glancing at my phone, I call up the app that will show me where she is—provided she didn’t stop to chuck her phone in a lake.

Nope. Pink blinking heart shows she’s here. I shut off my bike, although she would have heard me coming. I dial her number. Sure enough, I hear my ringtone go off in the kitchen.

Fuck, we’ve never gotten around to exchanging keys or anything. We’re almost always together. But it’s not as if I don’t know how to pick a lock. And it’s not like I haven’t been bitching about the shitty security at Hope’s house since the first time I ever paid her a visit.

Takes me fifteen seconds to get inside. Another ten to figure out she’s in the bedroom. The bed is lumpy, but there’s no sound. Is she holding her breath? Trying to hide from me like a little kid? The thought makes me smile. I fuckin’ love my girl—even when she’s being a pain in my ass.

I shuck my jacket and hang it on the doorknob, then kick off my shoes.

“Hope?”

A ragged sniffle drifts out from under the covers.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“Choreographing a tap dance.”

A sharp crack of laughter leaves me. Okay, she’s seriously pissed. “Can I put the light on?”

“No,” she answers in a cranky baby voice that makes my dick hard and my hand itch to spank her fuckin’ ass.

That’s fine. Can’t find the fucking switch anyway. Besides, my eyes have adjusted enough that I can just make out the top of her head.

I yank my jeans down, kick them off, and drop my shirt on top of them. This is uncharted territory. We’ve never been in her bed together.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.

I freeze, unsure if she’s asking because she’s mad at me for earlier or because I’m about to crawl into her bed. I choose to use a bit of humor to lighten things up. “You want insects and road grime in your bed?”

“Ew, no.”

Leaning down, I attempt to throw back the covers, but she wraps herself tighter and rolls away from me.

“What are you doing? Get over here.”

“I’m not having sex with you. I’m mad at you.”

“Who said anything about sex? I don’t want to have sex with you either.” That’s a total fucking lie. I’m so hard I could pound nails, but it’s not my fault. If I’m within ten inches of Hope, my dick is hard. That’s just the way it is. I’m in a permanent state of arousal around her.

Using the heel of my hand, I push down my erection, not wanting to jab her with it—yet. “I’ll leave my undies on.”

That gets the response I’m looking for—a soft giggle. “Undies,” she snorts. “Some big, bad biker you are.”

I grin into the darkness.

“Hope?” I tug on the comforter. “Baby, I’m chilly. Won’t you share?” I know she can’t resist my soft, pleading tone.

She wriggles and struggles to unwrap herself. The entire time, I’m biting my lip so I don’t laugh.

“Here,” she fumes, throwing half the cover at me.

Once I arrange it over myself, I dive at her, grappling her squirmy body into my arms. “Shhhh.”

I hold her to me, tucking her head under my chin, stroking down her arm, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry you think I don’t trust you. I do, honey. Remember when I told you I didn’t want the ugliness from my life bleeding into yours? That’s why I’ve been holding back. Not because I don’t trust you.”

“It’s a stupid grow house. The way you were acting, I thought you had like a little human sweatshop down there or something.”

I huff out a laugh. “Please, Sparky takes enough care and feeding.”

“He’s sweet. I’m guessing he’s very familiar with his products?” She chuckles.

I snort at her comment. “Yeah. He’s been a godsend, though. We were neck deep in a lot of shit when he came up with that idea.”

“So that’s how the club makes its money?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a lot of money in that?”

I’m not sure why she’s asking, but I answer as truthfully as possible. “Not as much as the shit we used to be into, but it’s a lot safer. Most of the time.”

She’s silent. Thinking about what that means, I guess. “I don’t care, you know. I don’t even understand why pot’s illegal but alcohol is okay.”

“I know, babe. I’m starting to get that about you.”

“Tell me something else I don’t know, Rock.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Her fingers drift over my arm. “I’m not asking for details about club business. I understand why you can’t share some of that with me.”

Relief crashes into me. She gets it and that makes it easier to spill the secrets I’ve been keeping.

All right. Here goes. “Can you promise to hear me out before you get mad?”

She stiffens, but I feel her nod, her silky hair sliding along my shoulder.

“I told you when we met I was fucking nuts about you, right?”

She snorts like she still thinks I’m full of shit. “Yes.”

Fuck, this is embarrassing.

“After that kiss in my office, I found out where you lived. I couldn’t stop myself. I used to just sit at the end of the street and watch your driveway, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.”

“Rock…” She kisses along my jaw, and the tightening in my chest relents a bit. She’s not mad. She doesn’t think I’m a whack-job stalker.

“I did this… a lot. Remember how I told you about our rival, the Vipers?”

“Yes.”

I take a deep breath before going into this next part. “On one of my ‘stakeouts,’ two of them drove down your street, paying close attenti

on to your house. I knew there was no other reason they were here. Somehow, they’d put together your connection to the club.”

“Didn’t they see you sitting there on your bike?”

“I… uh, was using the SUV by this point, so no. I don’t know if they used court records to find our connection or if one of the fucks followed me to your house. Either way, I knew your life was in danger. These two—they weren’t normal. We… Fuck, Hope, I don’t want to drag you into this shit any further.”

“Just finish the story.”

“Fine. I figured if we cut ties in a very public way, it would end their interest in you. Obviously, if you weren’t our lawyer, there was no reason to come after you. And if I was willing to humiliate you in public, I must not have any romantic interest in you.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

“You’ll never know how much I hated doing that,” I whisper against her hair. I press a kiss to her forehead and hold her tighter for the next part. “Even though I thought that resolved the immediate problem, the fact that these two knew about you at all didn’t sit well with me. We took a vote to put them down.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“No wonder Wrath hated me.”

“He never hated you.” I pause and think of how best to explain preemptive murder. “You weren’t the only woman they targeted. And even though we’re outlaws… that’s not how we operate. MCs go to war all the time. They don’t target innocent people who have no idea what they’re into. That’s mafia, cartel behavior. They had other people in mind too.”

“Glassman?”

“Yes. Although, to this day, he thinks it was just a random mugging. And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Uh, it’s not like we’re lawyers who lunch.”

For now, I ignore the bit of self-deprecating humor I detect in her comment. “We had to tighten our alliance with our other rival I’ve told you about.”

“Wolf Kings?”

“Wolf Knights. We’re the only Kings, babe.”

Another soft chuckle. I love that laugh so much.

“They’re a rival, but we’ve always had a decent relationship with them. We’ve got a similar mindset about certain things, and we share certain business interests. They were more than happy to cooperate.” I pause, remembering my meeting with Ulfric, the anguish in his eyes as he told me about what the Vipers did to his sister-in-law. “I didn’t learn why they were so motivated until later, but that’s not important. We also received the support of some of the Vipers. Most of them—although I disagree with the shit they’re into—follow our code. These other fucks that came in and took over, not so much. We helped them cut out the bad shit.”

I stop, remembering what it took to get what I needed out of those fuckers. I’m uncomfortable with the memories when my girl’s so close to me. “It took me a long time to get the information about you that I needed from them.”

I’m silent, thinking about what I want to tell her next, when she captures my hand and kisses my fingertips.

Maybe she didn’t understand what I’m confessing here. “Hope, do you understand what I’m telling you?”

She’s silent for a minute before answering. “Yes.”

“Can you live with the things I’ve done, baby doll?”

“You did all that for me?”

“Yes. Remember, I explained you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us? If someone hurts you, baby, I’ll handle it. I figured that would go against everything you believe in. But I’m not sorry. Those evil fucks posed a threat to you, and I dealt with it in the most efficient way. Going to the police wouldn’t have helped. I had nothing but a gut feeling to go on. You would have ended up dead or worse. I did what I had to do to keep you from harm. I protect what’s mine, Hope. And whether you knew it or not, you were mine.”

Something hot and wet rolls over my chest. “Baby, don’t cry. I’m so sorry I ever put you in danger.”

She sniffles. “It’s not that. No one has ever cared about me that way before. You barely even knew me at the time, but you were willing to start a war with these nutjobs to keep me safe? I can’t even comprehend that.”

“You were worth it, babe. I felt so fucking guilty that my obsession with you put you in danger.”

“Jesus, do you know what it does to me to hear you tell me all of this?” More sniffles.

Then silence.

“I’m sorry I’m not a good man, Hope.”

She sucks in a deep breath. “Don’t ever say that. You’re good to me. Your brothers. To your club. That’s all that matters.”

Shit, I’m so fucking stunned I don’t know what to say.

After a few seconds, she says, “I know you called my mother when I was in the hospital.”

The shift in conversation jolts me. I stiffen. This isn’t something I want to talk about right now because I know it will hurt her. “Yeah.”

She sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, but her voice is clear when she asks her next question. “She never came down to see me or called back to check if I was okay, did she?”

Now I’m fucking close to crying. “No, honey.”

“You stayed. You never left my side the entire time, did you?”

“Only when you were in surgery.”

“Every one of your brothers came too. Even if it was just to support you, they were there.”

“They were there for you too.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never belonged or felt a part of a family like that before. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but Clay came from a fucked-up situation too. He and his sister mostly grew up in foster care. And, well, you see what my mother’s like.” She pauses, and I feel her shaking her head against me. “He and I formed our own little insular world together. I mean, you know my few close friends, but otherwise, it was just the two of us. We only really depended on each other.”

I’m not sure what to say to that because it sounds lonely. But in a way, it makes me understand her so much better. “I’m happy you two found each other, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry you lost him so young.”

“I know.”

“You’ve got a family now, full of overprotective, pain-in-the-ass big brothers.”

“And sisters?”

“Yeah. Trin’s got her own issues, but she likes you. You two are good for each other. And I’m sure Teller wouldn’t mind some help with Heidi here and there.”

“Heh.” Then she turns a little more serious. “What else should I know?”

Here’s where I should tell her what happened with Sophie when I escorted Hope to Judge Oak’s fundraiser. How the woman who is supposed to be Hope’s best friend drunkenly hit on me outside the men’s room. But after admitting what a callous bitch her mother was, I don’t want to hurt Hope with yet another person she loves failing her. Instead, I decide to tell her something else. A good thing about Sophie.

Hope elbows me in the ribs. “Anything else you’re hiding?”

“One last thing.”

Her body ripples with laughter. I guess after admitting I’ve killed people to keep her safe, anything else is tame in comparison.

“That first night when I ran into you at Hamilton’s… Sophie set that up.”

She squeals and thumps my chest, struggling to sit up. “I knew it! I always wondered what the hell you and Z were doing there.”

At least she’s not mad.

“How?”

“She was worried about you. Maybe eight months after the funeral, she came into Crystal Ball with Jonny on one of my nights.”

“Ugh! I wondered how you and Jonny knew each other.” She giggles, and I’m happy I was able to take her mind off her rotten mother.

“I don’t know. I must have been real obvious that first time we met, ‘cause she honed in on me right away.”

“I told her about us.”

I chuckle at the memory of Sophie’s fierce expression that night. “Yeah, I got that lo

ud and clear.” Picking up her hand, I press her fingers against my lips, then hold her tight. “Everything after that was all you. I would have taken you home that night if you asked me to. I didn’t have any other plans besides worming myself into your life. Making you my woman.”

She kisses my chin. “So now I know everything?”

I actually stop and think before answering her because I want to be honest. “I think so.”

“Nothing from your run?”

“Are you asking if I fucked anyone?”

“No. I think it’s clear your mind was on me the whole time you were gone.” As she says that, her hand drifts across my hip and over the spot where her tattoo is. I’m very conscious of and grateful for the trust Hope has in me.

Reaching out in the dark, I trace along her collarbone, seeking her necklace. “At least you didn’t take this off. Although, I’m going to paddle your ass for leaving your vest.”

“I’m sorry.”

I sigh, long and deep, debating whether or not to tell Hope about Inga’s phone call. “Ah, there’s one thing from the run.”

Next to me, she stiffens, and I automatically tug her closer. “Inga called me.”

The breath she lets out drifts over my chest. “Oh. How did that go?”

I’m amazed at how calm my girl is, all things considered. “Uh, fine. She wanted to apologize. I guess she’s in rehab back home. She’s quitting porn and dancing.”

“That’s good. I mean, if she had a problem with it. Hopefully, she’ll figure it out.”

Holy fuck, my woman is something else.

“You’re not mad?”

She pulls back and, in the dark, it’s hard to gauge her reaction. “No. Why would I be mad? I mean, as long as weekly chats with her aren’t going to become a regular thing—no, I’m not mad.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s wrong, Rock?”

It’s almost unnerving how well she knows me. Christ, she won’t want to hear this. I push the words out in a rush. “I feel like a scumbag for never noticing she had a problem.”

“You realize this is awkward for me, right?” she says with a laugh. When I hmm at her, she continues. “I didn’t get the impression your relationship was one where you spent a lot of time together when you weren’t, uh, occupied, so why would you have noticed?”