Page 33 of King
Chapter 10
King/Dante
As I walked Ella out to the parking lot on legs that still felt a little weak at the knees, I was cursing Lucky for his lousy sense of timing and the soon-to-be-bleeding motherfucker trying to scam us out of the cost of a huge repair bill.
Sex with Ella last night had been incredible. By the time I’d been buried balls-deep in her tight heat, feeling her clench around me as her cunt milked every drop of cum from me, I was sure that life as I’d known it would never be the same. Without a fucking doubt, no one else had ever felt as good as she did in my arms. I’d wondered if anyone else ever would again.
All morning long, I’d been looking forward to having her in my arms again. In my bed, this time, so I could take my time with her without fear of interruption by her kids, or the need to leave early to go to a damned meeting. So much for that plan.
I opened her door for her, giving her one final kiss on the cheek before she slid behind the wheel. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty,” I said, then handed her the bag of food that had been delivered.
“Take this home with you, sugar. I don’t want you skipping lunch because of me.” When she started to protest, I assured her that there was plenty of food in the kitchen that I could eat, once I dealt with the jackass out in the garage.
She gave me a little wave as she drove away. My smile faded as I turned and stomped across the parking lot to the building that housed our custom bike shop.
The dickweasel didn’t want to listen to reason, even after Lucky pulled up the photos and video he’d taken not even five minutes after the guy had dropped it off to us for repair, according to the time stamp on the photos and the repair ticket and estimate, which the fucker had signed off on that day. That was our standard procedure, just to prevent situations like this.
I finally decided to quit playing nice and suggested that he get on his bike and get the hell out while he still had the ability to ride. He quickly gave in, after Viking had brandished the flexible scope video camera that we used for diagnostics in enclosed or hard to reach spots and threatened to give the guy a colonoscopy with it.
“And I won’t use any fuckin’ lube either, you cunt-faced, lyin’ ass motherfucker!” I laughed as the guy fishtailed his bike and almost laid it down, trying to get away as fast as he could.
I slapped Viking on the back and told him he had a real talent for customer service. He flipped me off and got back to work.
An hour later, Bull popped his head into the open doorway of my office.
“Prez, I just got a lead on Slutty Spice.”
“Fill me in,” I commanded, giving him my full attention.
He hesitated, then glanced around my office. “Let’s go over things in the chapel.”
The room we held Church was sound-proofed, so I hoped the fact that he wanted to talk there meant he had something solid to share.
Five minutes later, I smiled grimly. This intel was good.
“Do me a favor and round up the officers. Tell them to drop everything and get here within the next thirty minutes. I’m going to run home and pack a bag, and I’ll be right back.”
“Will do, Prez. Ace too?”
“No.” I didn’t need to say more. Yeah, as our road captain, Ace was technically an officer, although he was only given the position to get him to shut the fuck up about not being voted in as president. Bull was aware of the concerns Cowboy and I had regarding my half-brother. My gut told me that we couldn’t trust the asshole, and I didn’t think it was a coincidence that we’d had so many problems with drugs being sold at Fallen Angels. Either Ace was an even shittier manager than I thought, or he was in on it. Maybe getting kickbacks to look the other way, at least. We just didn’t have any proof. Because I trusted my gut and my officers trusted me, we’d started leaving Ace out of everything that didn’t directly involve his role as road captain.
“Got it. See ya soon.”
Since I lived so close, it didn’t take long for me to get home and pack enough to get me through the next few days, if needed. Twenty minutes later, I left – without activating the security cameras, so if the cops checked, they wouldn’t see me leaving – and carried two small bags out to my truck which was parked in the garage.
My excitement amped up during my short drive back to the clubhouse. I was fucking stoked to work out a game plan with the other officers. My mind was racing with different scenarios, and I hoped to fuck that this was the break we needed to find the shitstain who’d beaten his wife and stolen from us.
Trick drove in through the open gates of the compound just moments after I did. We walked in together, neither of ussaying a word until we got into the chapel. Bull and Irish were already waiting for us. Normally, I was the only one who carried my phone in Church, but I took the precaution of putting mine in the box outside the door along with the others this time. I took my place at the head of the table as Cowboy rushed in, shutting and locking the door behind him when he saw that the rest of us were already there.
“Sorry I’m late. I was helpin’ Brick out with the cameras in that new parkin’ garage downtown, and traffic was a bitch.”
“All right, Bull. Let’s hear it,” I said, wanting to get this fucking show on the road.
Bull turned his laptop toward the others and gestured to the screen. “I’ve already shared this with King, but I got a lead on Cynammon. You all know I have an alert set up to notify me if either of their names pop up online. It flagged an ad for a strip joint outside of St. Louis, Missouri. They’re promoting her as a special guest headliner for a three-night show, starting tonight through Thursday.”
I stared intently at the computer screen, taking note of every detail of the ad that I’d seen. “Join us for Three Nights of Cyn,” featuring Cynnamon billed as “the Midwest’s most provocative and alluring entertainer”. Trick leaned over to peer over my shoulder, then shook his head in disbelief.
“That’s her all right, even though she’s dyed her hair red now. Why the fuck would she be stupid enough to use her own name? I mean, Cynnamon isn’t exactly a common name, especially spelled with a ‘y’ like that. What the hell is she thinking?”
