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Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC 4)

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Well, at least it’s something.

Hope makes it back quick and Heidi responds to her right away. I’m not jealous. Don’t have a motherly bone in my body.

What I can do is help Teller make the funeral arrangements. I also call Swan and ask her to come up and give me a hand.

The day of the funeral, Wrath warns me Tawny and Sway are coming up. Just what I need.

While I’m in the kitchen with Hope, I figure I better warn her in case Rock hasn’t.

“Heads up—Sway and Tawny are on their way up for the funeral.”

“Oh. That’s nice of them.”

Sometimes I understand why Wrath calls her clueless. “More than likely, he’s using it as an excuse to come up for something else.”

“Oh. Are you worried?” she asks.

“Not really.” I better tell her this now. “I won’t be offended if you want to boss me around in front of Tawny.”

A harsh chuckle bursts out of her. “Yeah, that’s not happening, Trin.”

God bless her. “I’m not an ol’ lady, Hope.”

She pins me with a hard stare. “I don’t give a fuck. You’re my friend.”

My chest burns with so much emotion, I’m going to burst into tears or laughter. “Wow, look at you with the potty mouth,” I tease.

“What are you talking about? I swear all the time.” She almost sounds insulted.

Our silly discussion is interrupted by Rock and Wrath storming into the kitchen. “You girls okay?” Rock asks, his gaze dashing between the two of us.

“Yeah, Hope’s just cussing like a sailor,” I tell him.

Rock’s eyebrow quirks up.

Wrath shakes his head. “Cinderella.”

Rock takes her out of the kitchen and Wrath closes in on me.

“We need to talk.”

Z and I have to call the guys to church the morning of the funeral. Even though Teller specifically asked the brothers not to make a fuss, Sway’s using the service as an excuse to come visit. What he really wants, is to grab some guns he mistakenly gave us. Rock knows I’m annoyed. About the guns, yeah. That’s some stupid, fucked-up shit. But after what Trin told me, I don’t want Sway anywhere near her. Tawny either. She tosses any bullshit at Trinity, I’ll knock her big-haired ass out.

“Rock, unless you think you need me, I’m going to hang with Trinity.” Been to enough fuckin’ funerals in my life. Don’t need to go to one for a woman I barely know who hates my guts.

“Yeah. That’s fine. I gotta give Hope a head’s up that Tawny’s coming.” He runs his hands over his face. “What a pain in the balls.”

“No shit.”

We find the girls in the kitchen. Rock takes Hope and I corner Trinity. “We need to talk.” Reaching out, I brush some hair off her face and her eyes close. “You need some rest, babe.”

“I know. Once today’s over with.”

“Listen, I’m gonna hang with you at the house. I know I’m not much help—”

“But you want to keep Sway away from me?”

Shit. Guess I’m pretty fuckin’ obvious. “Yeah.”

She sighs. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

I expected her to kick up more of a fuss.

When we get out to the grandmother’s house, Teller lets us in. “Thanks so much, guys,” he mumbles before taking off.

I’m happy to be in charge of providing refreshments to everyone after the funeral. With Wyatt sitting at the kitchen table, keeping a close eye on me, I’m able to organize the unfamiliar space quickly.

Besides a few civilian friends of Heidi and Teller, friends of the grandmother’s also show up. It’s a weird mix of elderly and bikers.

Wrath comes over and squeezes my arm. His mouth quirks up. But before he says what’s on his mind, he gets a text. “Fuck, Rock needs me outside for a sec. You okay in here?”

I haven’t seen Tawny or Sway yet, so I nod.

He’s not gone five seconds before Tawny sashays into the kitchen like she fuckin’ owns it. God, I hate this bitch.

“Don’t you have someone you should be servicing?” she says instead of an actual greeting.

“Just doing my job. Can I get you anything?” I ask sweetly.

“I thought your job was getting on your knees when a brother asks. You think you’re hot shit because that scary mountain man’s panting after you today? That ain’t gonna last. None of these guys will take used goods as an old lady.”

The fact that I know this bitch fucks around behind her husband’s back, and yet has the nerve to judge me, pisses me off. I’m trying to come up with a clever way to say that when she asks where Hope is.

“She should be taking care of this stuff, not you,” she bitches. I almost snort at that. Hope’s not particularly domestic.

As if she knew we were talking about her, Hope wanders in. “Hi, Tawny,” she says brightly.

The old bitch is all sunshine and unicorns for Hope. “There you are. The old lady of the upstate charter.”

I throw Hope a thumbs up for distracting Tawny and breathe a sigh of relief when they leave the kitchen.

But her damage is done. The words used goods keep banging around in my head and I don’t know how to stop them.

I want to pump my fist in the air when I get the okay from Rock to have the girls wrap things up at Teller’s house.

Get me the fuck outta here. Trin’s quiet and I just know Tawny did something to upset my girl. Need to get her alone to figure out what it is so I can fix it.

Sway and Tawny take forever to leave. The whole time I’m making small talk with Sway outside our clubhouse, I want to plant my fist in his throat. Once they leave, I’m on the hunt for my girl. Z stops me right before I get to the kitchen.

“They leave?” he asks.

“Yeah, finally. You seen Trin?”

“No.” His mouth turns up. “You shoulda heard Hope this morning, tellin’ Rock she ain’t gonna treat Trinity bad just to impress Queen Bitch.”

“What’re you talking about?”

His shoulders lift. “I dunno. Somethin’ musta went down when we were visiting. I was busy getting’ shot—”

“Quit your whining.”

He just laughs. “Tawny must have told her to boss Trin around or something and Hope told Rock—not happening.”

Fuck me. I want to protect Trin, but there’s some things…well, I’m real happy she’s got someone else in her corner.

I catch up to my girl in the kitchen.

“You avoiding me, Angel Face?” I whisper in her ear.

The tremor that runs through her body gets me hard as fuckin’ steel. “You done in here?”

“I guess so.”

“Good. I need you to myself.”

She gives me a strange look. “You were with me all day.”

“Not the same.”

I steer her to her room, and close the door behind us. “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, but something’s bothering her. “Tell me.”

“Nothing. Tawny just got in my head.”

I don’t like the sounds of that at all.

“Tell me.”

Pain twists her face. “Nothing. Same old shit.”

We’re sitting side-by-side on her bed but she’s staring at her hands in her lap.

“Hey, fuck her.” I grab one of her hands until she looks at me.

A smile tips the corners of her mouth up. “You’re so sweet for a Wrecking Ball,” she teases.

“Only to you.” Any more words are lost as she leans over and kisses me.

“Thanks for sticking with me today.”

“Obviously I didn’t do a good job.”

“Yeah, you did.”

She stands and slips off the plain, black sweater and dark jeans.

I raise an eyebrow when she pauses to look at me. “Keep going.”

Instead of stripping down, she walks forward and presses into me. That’s fine. I take the opportunity to run my hands over her bare skin.

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Flipping her onto the bed, I lean over her and take her mouth. She stretches, arching her back, arms over her head. Spread out like a playboy fantasy, all for me. I lock down a hard shudder that threatens to work through my body.

“Tell me what you want, Trin.”

“You. I want your big, rough hands all over me. I want you to take me. Hard.”

My mouth goes dry. “I can do that.”

“I know you can.” She beckons me closer. “First, come here.”

It’s awkward, but she gets me in the middle of the bed and strips off my shirt. Slowly, admiring every bit.

She keeps her eyes on mine while she works my shorts off. “Weren’t you cold in shorts?” she asks as she tosses them on the floor.

“Nope. I’m always hot when I’m around you.”

She laughs at the silly line. I’d laugh too, but she’s curled her fingers around my dick and I can’t form any sounds. Each slide of her palm shifts my entire world.

Next, she drags her tongue along the head of my cock, unhinging my fucking mind. At my sides, my fists clench and release. I sprawl one hand across the nape of her neck, then back off.

She pulls back and lifts her lips in a sultry smile. “Don’t hold back.”

After the funeral things return to normal around the clubhouse. I divide my time between helping Wrath out, taking care of the clubhouse, my book covers and planning an engagement party for Hope and Rock.

They haven’t set an actual wedding date yet, but we nail down a date for the engagement party and the menu. Hope is oddly impressed with my party planning skills and leaves most of it up to me. I want everything to be perfect for the two of them.

Taking care of Wrath means running him to the gym to oversee things, physical therapy and doctor appointments.

And stopping him from killing the doctor when he says he has to keep the cast on at least another week.

“You said that last week!” he snaps.

The doctor isn’t impressed by Wrath’s outburst. I can’t decide if that makes him brave or stupid.

“I understand, but we want it to heal correctly,” he says with the same tone one would use on a rowdy toddler.

Wrath’s agitated for more reasons than just the cast. He admits it while we’re on our way home. “Sparky’s crop is sick. We’re fucked.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Our connection’s been up in our business for weeks now and this is making it worse.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No. I just wanted you to be aware. Don’t want you going out by yourself.”

“You think they’d bother me?”

“No. But I still want you to be careful.”

“Okay.” I don’t press for more details. That’s not how our relationship works.

Sure enough, Wrath gets called in for church later that night. He’s weary when he returns.

“No one likes it when I play devil’s advocate,” he sighs as he lies down next to me.

“Aw, poor Wyatt,” I tease.

“Damn right.”

I’m glad Wrath warned me, because the guys are all on edge. At least I know why. I try to make myself as invisible as possible.

While he says things are fine, I still sense a lot of tension in the clubhouse. Wrath’s more fidgety than normal. I know he’s eager to get back to being the muscle for the club.

At his next appointment, the doctor takes another X-ray and spends a lot of time checking Wrath’s leg over.

“Okay, Mr. Ramsey, I’m going to call the cast tech in to remove the cast.”

Wrath looks so damn hopeful I almost laugh.

“Is it staying off?” he asks.

“Well, I’ll do another examination of your leg when it’s off, but I think so.”

“Thank God.”

Butterflies zip and dance around in my stomach.

“You need physical therapy. No driving for another three to six weeks.”

I expect Wrath to blow up, but he nods and grabs my hand. “I’ve gotten used to my chauffeur.”

That’s sweet and I’m not sure what to say.

As usual, Wrath kicks me out when the cast tech enters the room. “I’m going to see it eventually,” I remind him. He smirks and still sends me on my way.

While I wait, I text Rock and Z to give them the good news. I get a smiley face back from Z right away, but nothing from Rock.

When Wrath finally emerges, he’s lost both the cast and his cocky grin. He has, however been outfitted with a cane.

I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Sexy.”

One corner of his mouth lifts.

“Are you happy?” I ask once we’re on our way home.

“Yes. I’ve got a long list of positions I need to fuck you in.”

My skin simmers with heat. A glance at the dashboard shows that, no, the heat’s not on. It’s all Wrath and what his dirty words do to me.

“Besides that?” I ask.

He huffs out a low laugh. “Yeah, angel. Pissed I won’t be able to ride for a while.”

“We’ll get you set up with the physical therapist—”

“I know.” He reaches over and squeezes my upper thigh. “I’m more concerned with making my announcement.”

Why do those words make my skin tingle?

“You…you still want to do that?”

“Fuck yeah, babe.”

My heart bangs so hard, it might jump out of my chest.

Z meets us at the front door to give Wrath a big welcome home hug and back slap. “When can we ride, brother?”

“Six to eight weeks,” Wrath grumbles.

“Fuck man, really?”

I don’t bother correcting Wrath. I figure he has his reasons for giving the wrong time frame and if he wants to tell me, he will.

Trinity seemed less than enthused when I reminded her of my plans to announce our relationship.

Too bad. She’s the one who said to wait until the cast is off. Well, it’s fuckin’ off. Nothing’s gonna stop me from claiming my girl now.

Rock looks like fuckin’ shit the next morning. “What’s up with you?” I ask as he drops into the chair across from me.

“Where’s Hope?” Z asks. “Second morning without her here. I miss the little ball-buster.”

I shoot a look at Z who’s apparently completely sincere.

Something’s seriously wrong. Rock’s got his I’m-going-to-gut-all-of-you face on. He usually saves that one for special occasions.

“We’re taking a break,” he announces without looking at any of us.

Fuck me.

Z’s face darkens. “What the fuck does that mean?” he asks. Huh. I never pegged Z for the suicidal type.

Rock tips his head up and drills a murderous look at Z. “It means exactly what I said. What do you need explained?”

Trinity gets up and leaves the table.

“Sorry, brother,” I say.

He turns his angry glare on me. “What are you sorry about? Thought you’d be thrilled.”

“Come on, man—”

“Can we talk about something else?” It might be phrased as a question, but Rock’s done with this conversation.

I get up and shove my chair in. “Talk about whatever you want. I’m gonna check on Trinity.”

As I limp my way into the kitchen, I’m fucking furious. Furious that my leg still hurts and furious that Trinity’s upset. Okay, and a little furious about whatever Rock did to chase Cinderella away.

Trin’s busy banging stuff around the kitchen and doesn’t acknowledge me at first.

“You okay, babe?”

“I’m fine.”

When she finishes slamming everything into cabinets and drawers she finally faces me. “Why didn’t she call me or let me know what happened? I thought we were friends.”

Aw, shit. Now I really want to kick Rock’s ass. Pulling her into my arms, I squeeze her tight. “I’m sure she’s upset. And she thinks your loyalty’s to

the club. She probably didn’t want to make things awkward for you.”

She sniffles against my shoulder and pulls away. “You’re probably right. Fuck. Poor Rock.”

Poor Rock nothing.

Trinity refuses to join us at the table—for breakfast or any other meal—after that; something I blame on Rock. To my surprise, she keeps planning their engagement party. I don’t have the heart to tell her a wedding is looking unlikelier by the day.

Our issue with Green Street Crew keeps gettin’ worse. If Sparky doesn’t figure out the plants soon, we’re going to have a big problem on our hands.

What I’m really pissed about though is that I haven’t made my announcement yet. With whatever’s going on with Rock, I feel it’s the wrong time. And because I’m a complete asshole, it bugs me that Trinity’s not more upset about the delay.

“That’s fine. I understand.”

Shit. Does she think I’m using it as an excuse to get out of doing it?

We’re in the parking lot behind my gym, so I can test out my reflexes behind the wheel. The weakness in my leg is pissing me the fuck off.

“It hasn’t been that long. Give it time. You’re in better shape than ninety-nine percent of guys out there. You’ll heal quick,” Trin reassures me.

“Thanks, babe.”

Jake’s thrilled to see me out of the cast so he can start abusing me again.

He takes one look at the exercises the physical therapist gave me and grins like the sadistic little bastard he is.

“Go get changed, son.”

“You know I’m older than you, right?”

He shrugs. “Stop being a little bitch.”

Fucker.

Trin brought her laptop and keeps herself busy in my office.

“Why’s she still coming here?” Whisper asks when he sees her.

“Still can’t drive,” I huff out while pulling myself up on the chin-up bar. I’m pretty pissed about how much I’ve let myself go the last few months.

“People gonna think she’s your ol’ lady pretty soon.”

Fuck it. I’m tired of pretending otherwise. “Good. People should get used to that idea.”

Whisper has the nerve to chuckle. “You serious? She’s fucked half your club and mine.”

Next to me Jake shakes his head. “Dude,” he mutters.




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