Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Why all the drama and lies?” Callan cracks his knuckles, asking the burning question.
“I was scared. Liam’s leaving me. He’s fucking your sister. Did you know that?” The words leave her lips like poisonous darts. If he didn’t already know, they might have stuck. But fuck her and everything I’ve done for her. She’s a selfish, toxic cunt who will take and take to get what she wants.
“And you’re knocked up by someone else. What’s your point?” He doesn’t take her bait, and her chest deflates.
“Whose is it?” I ask. “And don’t fucking lie to me, or it won’t be Monster taking teeth.”
Wiping her face with the hem of my shirt, she mumbles, “Rodney’s.”
My brain filters through every club member, trying to remember their given names to see if it rings a bell.
“Who the hell is Rodney?” Callan looks at me in question.
Hunching my shoulders, I shake my head. “I have no fucking clue.”
“He’s not a brother, and I didn’t know his age.” She picks at her fake nails, chipping the red paint.
Groaning, I throw my ass into the chair on the other side of the room. Resting my elbows on my knees, I cover my face with my hands.
“What does that mean?” Callan’s voice holds confusion.
“He’s a minor,” Claire clarifies.
I lift my head as Callan’s eyes clash with mine, his brow nearly reaching his hairline. “For fuck’s sake.” He blows out a sharp exhale, rubbing the back of his neck.
“How young, Claire?” I ask.
Jumping up from the bed, she crosses her arms. “He doesn’t look like a minor. You’d never be able to tell.”
“Until you see him on a school bus?” Callan harasses, looking down his nose at her.
“He drives,” she says with disdain.
“So, seventeen?” I ask.
“Yes. But he looks much older and has a job. How the hell was I supposed to know?”
“What kind of job? A fucking busboy?” Callan continues to mock her. I’m unamused by the U-turn this conversation has taken.
The fact remains: she tried to use Michael as a way of controlling me. She’s a liability. You can’t claim to be loyal then lie and manipulate when you don’t get your way.
“I don’t need judgment from you. Half the whores who come to party here are underage.”
That’s bullshit, and she knows it. Before she wormed her way into a ring, she was a club slut. Diamond cards every bitch who passes those doors. And regular girls are vetted. We don’t play around with that shit at our club. That’s bad news for everyone involved.
“You’re treading on real thin ice. Think before any more lies pass those lips or I’ll cut them off,” he warns her.
“I’m sorry.” She sits back down, remembering her place.
“Who is Rodney, Claire?” I ask, over this bullshit.
“One of our neighbors.” She frowns, squeezing her eyes shut.
“One of your neighbors or one of your neighbor’s kids?”
“He lives with his dad.”
“And you couldn’t have fucked him instead?” Callan asks, perplexed.
“I didn’t seek him out, it just happened. I drank too much wine, and he was working late.”
“Working late where?” I question.
“At the house.” Heat creeps up her neck. “He does the gardening.”
“You fucked the lawn boy?” Callan covers his mouth with his palm, holding his lips.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I get to my feet. “I’m done with this conversation. This is a you and him problem.” I fucking knew it wasn’t her doing the flowery shit.
“You’re really going to leave me?” She has the balls to ask.
“I should have never been with you in the first place.”
“I’ll keep the secret about Nicolas,” she says, nodding to Callan and me. “I promise.”
“Yeah, because you’re scared of what will happen to you if you don’t. It’s not the Kings you need to fear, Claire,” Callan points out. He’s not going to let this lie, though. We need to have that conversation when she’s not in the room. “I need to go make an appearance out there. You good here?” he asks, swinging the door open.
“Yeah. I’ll be out in a bit.”
I close the door behind him and turn around. Claire’s wild, fearful eyes peer up at me, her hand gripping my cut so tight, her fists have turned white.
“You have to protect Rocco,” she begs, her teeth clattering. “If you don’t want me anymore, I’ll accept that, but please don’t give Rocco up.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Every hair on my body stands to attention. My heart rate kicks up. I’d never give my kid up, and she should know that. I love that kid and have always provided for him. Nothing will ever change that.
“Michael’s not the father of this baby.” She tremors, her breath coming out in wisps.
“Good.” That’s real fucking good news.
“No, it’s not fucking good, Liam.” She shakes her head, a grimace marring her features. “Michael’s not this baby’s father.” A silent pause seems to last forever, all the air condensing around us. “He’s Rocco’s.”