Page 184 of Wanted By a King

Cain, the crazy fucker, grins from ear to ear. “My fucking club. My fucking rules. And since you fuckers have stupid fucking rules and are too fucking proud to make an exception, let me give you a piece of advice.”

“Here we go.” Rocco snarls and I relax back in my seat, enjoying the fucking show.

“Yeah, here we fucking go. You dick, what were you thinking, banishing her? You fucking need her!” Cain snarls back, but the difference between his snarl, and Rocco’s is the ridiculous grin on his face.

“I can’t go changing fucking rules to suit me. If it had been anyone else, they would have been dead.” Rocco defends his decision, and I notice my club brothers shifting in their seats, probably uncomfortable with this conversation.

“The difference is, everyone else is fucking expendable, man. But Cara? You can’t do this without her. It’s always been the two of you, and if you think you built your club on your own, then you’re fucking delusional. You wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without her, and just look how it’s turned to shit since she’s been gone.” Cain points to the ceiling, referring to the club a floor above us. “You had Cunts rebelling and going on strike, brothers fist fighting instead of fisting their own fucking cocks, and you couldn’t hold your fucking head together man.”

“You looking to eat lead today?!” Rocco’s yell bounces off the walls, and instead of flinching back, Cain leans closer.

“Wanna do an old fashion western quick draw?” Cain wags his brows and Rocco fucking smirks.

“You’re a crazy fucker.”

Everyone chuckles while Cain nods proudly.

“Not as fucking crazy as that is.” He points to the chair next to me wearing a shit-eating grin, and I roll my eyes.

“Watch yourself,” I say, not sounding the least bit menacing, but Cain is nowhere near finished.

“He’s only saying what we are all thinking, man.” Munroe chuckles and I sigh, leaning forward to place my hands on the table.

“Are we gonna talk about our retaliation?”

“Yeah!” Cain slaps his hand on the table, making most of us fucking jump at his over reactive demeanor. “That’s what I’m talking about. How are we gonna retaliate?”

“Firstly. We are. You aren’t.” Rocco points out, and Cain waves his hand dismissively.

“Semantics.”

“How the fuck do we retaliate when we have no fucking bikes? Most went up in the fire, and so did a lot of our weapons.” Stretch points out and Rocco nods.

“That’s why we are here, to figure that shit out.”

“Trucks.” Cain offers, drawing our attention again, and I watch him across the table as he tears a piece of paper from the notebook in front of him and scrunches it up in his hand.

“Trucks?” I ask, and he nods.

“We have some trucks that we don’t really mind what happens to them.” Cain shrugs, rolling the paper in his fingers, as he looks at Rocco. “You can use them and storm their castle.”

As Rocco mulls over this next to me, I watch Cain’s eyes shift to the chair next to me before he tosses the wad of paper.

“Hey!” Zoe cries, her arms flailing about as she tries to ward off something she can’t see.

“Leave her alone.” I glare at Cain as he chuckles and tears another piece of paper from the notepad and the rest of my club brothers start pissing themselves laughing.

“But this is fun.” He exclaims before balling the paper up and tossing it at Zoe again.

It hits her square in the forehead, and even Rocco chuckles this time, joining in.

“Stop!” She yells too loudly, her head darting from side to side like she can see past the blindfold I put on her, as the muffled beat of the music blaring through the headphones blocks out our conversation so she can’t hear. “Grayson! This isn’t funny!”

“Leave her alone, man,” I sigh, dragging my eyes from my princess as Cain reaches for the notepad again, but I stand and grab the fucking thing before tossing it across the room, just missing Doug’s head.

“Well, you’re no fun. If you’re gonna bring a toy for me to play with, don’t be a mood killer and toy block me.”

I roll my eyes at Cain, the crazy motherfucker. “She’s notyourfucking toy, and you’d better not fucking touch her.” I glare at him, ignoring the shit-eating-grin contorting his face. “She’s mine!”

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