Page 2 of King

“That’s what I thought too. He’s got my girl Cannibal.” He whistles.

“That asshole kidnapped a mafia princess?” I look at a photo of us on her desk.

“He took my Queen. I want her back.” I hear tapping on his end.

“On it, Prez.” I snort at the way that sounds.

“Weird, huh?” Abel laughs at me.

“Good. Get fucking use to it.” I smile, agreeing wholeheartedly with his statement.

“I’m staying in LA. Someone needs to oversee her business in her absence. Send a few members my way as backup. And Cannibal?” I hear him stop typing.

“Yeah?” He sounds a bit worried, and I appreciate his concern.

“Thank you from both of us. I’m not sure if Dad ever had a chance to tell you.” I listen to him sniffle and then curse.

“Fuck you, Lucas. Go find your girl.” He hangs up on me, and I chuckle at his reaction.

I’ll find her and bring her home or die trying.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm clock blaring wakes me out of the dream of the night I arrived in Los Angeles.

I sigh and stretch out my back before grabbing my crutches to go over to the dresser across the room to shut the fucking thing off. It’s my way of dragging my sorry ass out of bed for my morning run.

I make it to the alarm and slam my hand down on the off button.

My eyes catch on the date flashing brightly on the screen now, and I frown. Has it really been four months? I groan as my morning wood reminds me of the fact that I need to pee desperately.

Turning for the bathroom of the small studio apartment Gianna kept at the club that has become my temporary home, I use the toilet before returning to get my prosthetic on so I can get outside before the sun becomes oppressively hot.

I strap my phone to my arm, put in my earphones, and opened the door to a very surprised face.

“Gavin?” He looks at me from head to toe before grabbing me in a hug.

“You fucker! Would it kill you to call your mama?” I chuckle as he pats me back.

“I talked to her last night. Try again,” He made the trip from Reno here for a reason, and it’s not to check up on me.

“Um, there have been rumors,” He trails off when he sees me narrowing my eyes.

“About?” I press as his cheeks turn crimson.

“Are you selling drugs?” I sigh.

Not that it’s any of his or the club’s business, but Gianna’s club technically is a money laundering sight for the fucking mob. So, am I selling drugs?

No.

Does the money from the sales come through our doors nightly?

Yes.

“Who sent you, Hooper?” I fall back to his club name since we are now talking business.

“Abel, apparently, the shit you’re running out of place is killing people, Lucas.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

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