Page 32 of Claimed By a King

“Okay, Erin. How do you really feel about Adam booking you again next month?”

Slowly, I watch as the innocence falls from her face and her top lip curls. “I hope he gets hit by a bus on his way here.”

I chuckle. “Much better.” I remove my finger from her chin, happy to see that she doesn’t drop her chin again. “When Adam was with you, did he mention the Cruz Kings, or the Reapers, or a woman named Zoe?”

When she hears Zoe’s name, she flinches.

“Tell me,” I demand, and she flinches again.

“He didn’t say anything about the Cruz Kings or Reapers, but he wanted my name to be Zoe. He kept calling me that and told me I deserve everything I get. Then he beat me as he…” She shakes her head, not able to finish, but I get the fucking gist.

I spin, giving her my back as I fight the urge to smash up everything in my fucking sight. That sick fucker used a whore to pretend it wasmyZoe. Fuck him. He’s going to die a slow and agonizing death. I’ll make fucking sure of it.

Turning back to Erin abruptly, she whimpers taking a step back like she’s waiting for me to hit her, and while I’m vibrating with rage, I don’t fucking hit innocent women.

“Are you here on your own accord?” I ask her and she frowns in confusion. “Are you whoring for Loretta by choice?”

“Oh… yes.” She nods. “I need to pay for nursing school.”

My brows shoot up. “You’re studying to be a nurse?”

She nods. “Just starting, but it’s expensive. I don’t have parents to support me.”

“They don’t live around here?”

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I grew up in the system. I’m trying to make a life for myself now.”

Blowing out a breath, I step back from her taking her in. She’s definitely a lot like Zoe, just not as curvy. Her hair is blonde, although a little brassier than my princess’ hair, and she doesn’t have the same blue eyes as Zoe. Erin’s eyes are a golden brown.

It could be because she reminds me of my princess, or simply the fact that she’s obviously been dealt a bad hand most of her life and is trying to change her path, but whatever the reason, I offer her something I don’t normally.

“If you ever find yourself in trouble, I want you to go to Dirty Diamonds and ask to speak to Cain. You tell him to call me, and I’ll come and help you.” When she nods, I add, “Allowing yourself to be beaten while you’re being fucked isn’t part of your job. Don’t let anyone lay a hand on you again. I’ll make sure Loretta knows, but if she lets it slide, you fucking reach out to me, okay?”

She nods again. “When Adam comes for his booking next month, do you need me to do anything?”

I smirk and shake my head. “He won’t make it. That bus is gonna run him down before that.”

Erin’s shoulders drop in relief, and she returns my smirk. “I hope so.”

Chuckling, I turn and leave her in the office, focusing my attention on Loretta to ensure she fucking protects her women better in the future. By the time I leave, I gatherby the smell of piss that Loretta understands very fucking clearly where I stand on the issue.

It’s been a long fucking night.

Hell, it’s been a long fucking few weeks.

Rocco has been moved to a rehabilitation unit in the hospital to start therapy in the hopes that as the inflammation around the spine goes down, that he’ll hopefully learn to walk again.

I haven’t been officially sworn in as the new President yet, still walking around telling everyone I’m the acting President until Rocco is ready to be part of the ceremony.

I’ve stepped up though. Taken the role with two fucking fists and as of last week, our runs started up again, without incident from any Reapers trying to block our way.

Cain is still putting up with us living at Dirty Diamonds, but I got word just today from the fire investigation that we can go back onsite at our clubhouse as soon as next week to start repair work. It won’t be ideal, and security will be an issue, but we’ll make it work until the front of the building can be rebuilt.

Each day I delegate jobs to my men and the Cunts, and each day, after my work is done for the club, I go off on my own, kicking down door after fucking door in search of any small bit of information about Zoe.

Today is the first day I got something.

I rub the center of my chest that never stops fucking aching as I slip into the small girly car belonging to the Cruz Cunts. It’s inconspicuous, and fucking quiet compared to a Harley, so it’s been my mode of transport around Santa Cruz lately, as I turn this fucking place upside down in search of answers.

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