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I turn and leave without another word. I get three feet out the club’s front door when a burning sting crosses my neck. My palm goes there automatically, wetness oozing on my fingers. Blood. I twist my head to see Kai standing behind me. “You wear my mark now, fucker.”

I want to challenge him to a bare-knuckle match, but I need to get to Drew.

“This isn’t over,” I warn him, and he grins like the senseless fool he is.

“Trying to turn me on, little Walker?” he taunts. A couple prospects nearby snigger, and repeat his jab. “Little Walker, I like it.”

Fuck them all.

Climbing on my bike, I ride off to find the only person who matters. If she wants us to travel, we’ll go. Fuck the promise I gave my old man, agreeing to patch in and stick around for Drew’s free pass. She shouldn’t need one anyway, it’s bullshit.

I pull up and park a couple houses down from her aunt’s. Police tape blocks off the perimeter. There’s a tent set up on the lawn, cops covering the premises. Shit. Pulling out my phone, I shoot Heidi a text and wait. Forty minutes later, her stupid pink Camaro pulls up. What a waste of a machine.

Pulling over, she winds her window down and looks over at me. “What do you want me to do?”

“Go down there, tell them you’re a friend of Drew’s and she asked you to come over.”

“What’s going on down there? It looks bad, Alec.”

“You going to keep asking questions or you going to do me this favor? I need this, Di.” Using her nickname seems to soften her up. Stepping out the car, she smiles up at me.

“Of course I’m going to do it. We’re friends, right?” She bats her fake lashes.

“Yeah.” I lift my chin, gesturing with my hand for her to go.

Ten long minutes later, she walks back across the yard, wiggling on stupid heels. Why the hell she’s wearing a full face of makeup and heels is beyond me. I got her out of bed for this shit. “She’s gone.” She shrugs.

“What?”

“She’s not here. Her aunt said she came home, packed a bag, and took off. Told me not to look for her here anymore.” She grimaces, stroking my arm. “Alec, are you okay?”

No. I’ll never be okay again. She fucking left me.

I drive back to the club in a haze of disbelief. She’s hurting now. She’ll come to her senses and reach out to me. She has to. She needs me the same way I need her. Fuck, why is it so hard to breathe?

As soon as I pull up to the club, I jump off my bike, dropping my helmet to the ground. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

The bar is busy tonight. I march straight out back. The fire pit is in full blaze, the brothers sitting around it, drinking and having a good time. I spot Kai and make a beeline for him. “You,” I bark, pointing at him. “Two hundred I knock you out in under two minutes,” I wager.

This gets the interest of the brothers. Whistles and jeers ring out as a crowd forms. I throw my t-shirt over my head entering the circle drawn in the mud surrounded by bloodthirsty brothers.

“Remember, you asked for this.” Kai spits phlegm to the ground and rolls his shoulders. He comes at me, fists raised.

I jab out—one, two—hitting him in the ribs. He drops his elbow to protect them, and I spring off my back foot. Using all the power in my back leg, hip, and shoulder, I crack him in the temple. He staggers a few steps, and I hit out again, relentless. Bam—bam! He collapses to the grass without ever getting a hit in. They call him “Killer” because he is one, but he needs a weapon to do it. Me? I am a weapon.

My brothers boom in appreciation.

“Who’s next?” I bark.

“Me!” an older brother shouts, guzzling down his beer before crunching his knuckles. “Go easy on me, little Walker. I’m not as agile as I used to be.” He chuckles, gaining slaps on the back as he enters the circle.

Bets go around, money exchanging hands. He’s easily got eighty pounds on me, but it’s fat, not muscle. He moves, but he’s slow, swiping out and missing me. “It takes twice as much effort to swing and miss than it does to connect,” I taunt.

Coming at me again, he tries kicking at my shin like a cheating bastard. “Slippery little fucker, aren’t ya, kid?” he growls.

“I’m fast. There’s a difference.” I punch out, catching his jaw. It pisses him off. He attempts to ram me, his shoulder aiming at my waist. He gains contact, almost knocking me off my feet as I skid on the grass. If he can play dirty, so can I. I bring my elbow down on his skull and punch the side of his face with the other hand, my rage fueling me. He releases my waist, dropping to a knee. I let loose a flurry of hits—bam, bam, bam! Blood spatters from his nose, spraying me like a shaken can of beer. “Arghhh,” I roar, pounding until he falls unconscious. White noise buzzes in my ears. A haze clouds my mind. I need this—to block it all out.


Tags: Ker Dukey Royal Bastards MC Romance