Page 5 of Knot My MC
“Let me go,” Knox roars.
“No!” Kiki shouts.
“Fuck.” I grab her hips and pull her off of Knox, only managing to peel her off because she did a shit job securing her hold. I press her back against my front and band my arms around her waist. She smells wrong. I hate it. I bury my nose in her neck, desperate to find traces of her scent that aren’t coated in Axel’s. The tiny beads of sweat on her skin release traces of cinnamon and sugar, a smell that’s wholly Kiki. Usually she smells like fresh baked cookies—sweet and like home—but the vestiges of her anger are sharp and spicy.
Her body softens against mine for a second but then she bucks and stomps on my instep. I hiss in pain but refuse to let her go. Knox turns around at the end of the alley, eyes wide and unhinged, body vibrating with rage.
“Please,” Kiki pleads, something I never thought I’d hear her do.
That alone snaps Knox out of his alpha instinct. Someone hurt her and all he wants to do is punish that person. Seeing as that asshole is Axel, Prez of Wrecker MC, that would cause a whole world of trouble. Then there’s the matter of Kiki not technically being ours as far as the Omega Council is concerned. That won’t be decided for a few more years. If I had it my way, I’d demand they give her to us. Doing that would only create strife and put Kiki’s honor in danger.
Knox storms down the alley, not stopping until he’s in front of us. He lowers his face so he can look Kiki directly in the eye. “We’ll kill him.”
Jag and I don’t protest. Knox makes the decisions and keeps us in line. Jag will do anything to protect us, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us together. Some may not like our pack’s dynamic, but we’ve had years to build trust. We’ll put that shit bag in the ground for hurting her. Knox knows as much.
“You can’t,” Kiki whispers. “He didn’t touch me.”
“Like that matters,” Jag murmurs, flicking a switch blade open.
“You can’t kill him and you know it. It’ll start a war and then you three will end up dead. I can’t lose you.”
Her confession does something to my hardened heart. Knox grips her chin with his hand and gently kisses her. She freezes in my arms, surprised. I hate him for taking her first kiss without asking her first, but at the same time, it’s about damn time. We’ve been teetering on the edge of desire, not wanting to push Kiki into something she’s not ready for. But when she softens and kisses him back, I suck in a sharp breath.
I knew it. Kiki Malone has always been, and will always be, our girl.
Sugary-sweet need sweeps around the alley, and Knox pulls back, rubbing his cheek against hers, coating her with his scent instead of Axel’s.
Jag walks over and shoves me out of the way. The only reason I don’t protest is because I’ve been hoarding her and I know he needs to touch her in order to calm down. She lets him squeeze her tight before finally pushing out of his hold with a husky laugh.
“I’m okay. Okay?” The light reflects off her aquamarine eyes. She wants us to drop it. None of us are ready to do that, but none of us want to make her uncomfortable by doing something she doesn’t like.
“Are you hungry?” The corner of my mouth quirks. “I made cookies.”
Her shoulders relax. “I’m always hungry for your food.”
Those words make my chest swell with pride. Feeding her and the guys gives me a way to get out of my head when drawing doesn’t work. Her liking my food makes me want to cook for her every day of the week, ensuring her belly is always full. She’d never have to know what hunger—true hunger—feels like.
There’s a spike of irrational jealousy, brought on by memories of barely having enough food to stave off the ache in my stomach, but I quickly shove it down. My fucked up childhood has nothing to do with Kiki. Besides, I can do better.
I can take care of my pack.
“Ride with me?” I ask her.
“Always.” That vow does something funny to my insides.
Knox grabs my backpack since Kiki’s with me, and we all get on the bikes and head one block over to a park that’s officially closed for demolition. The playground is practically falling over, and the tall chain link surrounding the property has more than a few warning signs, but those are studiously ignored. We park and head to the part we’d cut out a few weeks ago. Jag holds it open for us to slip under.
“Last one there gets the bad seat,” I say softly, starting into a light jog. We always fight over the spots and starting the competition is me trying to help us all find our way back to neutral ground.
“Like hell,” Kiki growls and races ahead of me. Knox and I make a pointed effort to go slower, giving her something to take her mind off of Axel.
“That’s not fucking fair,” Jag shouts, still on the other side of the chain link.
Kiki takes the cleanest, least worn seat. Knox pulls ahead of me and drops down right beside her, setting my backpack on the ground. The bad spot is on the other side of the table. I take the other seat next to her and press in close. She leans into me and releases a soft, relieved sigh. As much as she’s trying to act unaffected, what Axel put her through rattled her. Jag reaches the table a few seconds later, huffing a little and eyeing the flaking paint and wood. Splinters are almost a guarantee.
“Do you want to sit on my lap?” Kiki pats her thigh. There’s a forced lightness in her voice. She’s trying to act normal, but nothing about what happened tonight is okay.
The bench isn’t strong enough for all of us, and she knows it. The one time we dared Kiki to sit in one of our laps ended up with the wood bowing to the point of almost breaking.
