Page 90 of Making the King

He chuckles. “With Dante, Baz, and Cain.”

Yeah, when he puts it like that, I’m not exactly thrilled. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Cain, and I always will. Baz and Dante are another story, though. They’re nice enough, but every time they’re around, it’s like their presence sucks all the air from the room. Without them even uttering a word, you know you’re looking at people who are willing to go to great lengths to get what they want.

Luckily, what they want is justice. They just prefer to dole it out themselves rather than put their trust in a broken justice system. I swear, there’s a story there I haven’t heard yet.

“I’ll be fine,” I say.

We walk the rest of the way to Dante’s office in silence. When we get there, Rocco holds the door open and ushers me inside first. It’s such a small gesture, yet it makes my heart fucking swell.

“Such a gentleman,” I teasingly whisper. Then I wave at Cain. “Hi loco.”

He grins and lights up a cigarette. “Mi pequeño salvaje,” he greets. “Are you ready to leave Rocco and run away with me yet?”

I laugh and Rocco lets out a growl that’s anything but playful. “I told you to fucking stop that.”

Cain shrugs. “And I told you I wouldn’t.”

Baz gives me a nod. “Cara.” That’s the extent of his greeting.

“Can we get started? I have shit I need to do so I can get back to the UK,” Dante gripes.

As I take a seat next to Rocco, Cain turns to Dante. “I still don’t know what the hell is wrong with the Christmas presents I bought for the girls. They’ll need to learn to defend themselves eventually, and I even bought the knives in girly colors and had them engraved.”

Dante pinches the bridge of his nose, while Baz coughs to hide his laugh.

I cock my eyebrow at Cain because, as far as I know, the girls are only kids. So I can see how knives might not be appropriate.

But I’m thankful that Cain was interrupting the awkward hellos. Not that I’d ever admit it out loud, but I think I might be on Baz’s and Dante’s shit lists.

The first time I met them wasn’t the day we killed my mom, that’s just when I found out who they really are. During my three years in lockup, I saw them at least four times a year. Each time, they wanted me to say my killing was under duress, which I promptly refused.

I’m not sure why, but it was important to me that everyone knew I stood by my action, and I might have used colorful language and made a few suggestions of where they could shove their scheming.

If I’d known who the two men were, I might have held back on the insults. Then again, it’s possible I wouldn’t have. Even when I didn’t know their names and places in the Santa Cruz criminal world, I knew they were somebody. Especially since they were allowed to show up with presents that the guards didn’t search through, and we were always alone with no cameras on.

“Let’s get down to it,” Baz says, looking straight at Dante. “Call the fucking vote.”

Dante turns his head to Rocco. “You’re sure? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

I place my hand on Rocco’s thigh and squeeze, silently giving him my support. This is the first meeting I’m attending, and he made it clear I’m only here because he wants me to be a part of it, which I get.

“I’m sure,” Rocco says. “So let’s vote.”

“All those in favor of Rocco expanding the Diamond Crew by creating an MC to take over here in Santa Cruz.”

Baz, Dante, and Rocco immediately say yes. The only one not speaking up is Cain. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No.”

I can’t help laughing at how predictable that is.

“W-what?” Rocco sputters. “Why the fuck not?”

For fuck’s sake, sometimes my husband really is fucking clueless.

“It has to be unanimous,” Dante says. “So let’s hear your misgivings.”

Cain just shrugs. “I don’t want to.”

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