Stain (King's Harlots MC Book 2) (3 page)

“Now we’re counting?” She hooked an arm around my shoulders, kissing my cheek.

“Yes.” I had been counting every damn day since the last man who graced my presence, but having a guy as your best friend made it difficult to date.

“Stop counting and go find a nice fine piece of ass.” Brogan opened the door, leading out into the hallway at the back the King’s Harlots clubhouse.

“I don’t want a one-night stand, bro,” I complained, which was something I had done for months. I needed a man to own me. To take what he wanted from me and not give me what I craved until I begged for it. I had been so tired, I wanted to submit to that one person I could trust. Not overly into kink, I never embraced that lifestyle. I was ashamed to admit that the girls who disappeared had sparked something inside of me. It was sick and disgusting what those people did to them but the part that intrigued me was the ownership. I had often wondered if they were given to men or even women who took care of them. Maybe they didn’t know what they were getting themselves into. Maybe they thought they would get someone who would submit or take control. Someone they could trust. I bit back a scoff.
Yeah. Right.
Those people were just as bad as the bastards who kidnapped their victims.

“You need to get out of your head.” Brogan hugged me against her. “And a one night filled with hot sweaty sex won’t hurt you.”

But that was it. I wanted to hurt. I wanted to ache. Not the,
oh I need you
ache but the,
I can feel you for days
ache. I craved it. I needed it.

“I don’t want just hot sweaty sex,” I muttered.

Brogan started barking orders to the staff at the clubhouse of King’s Harlots. With the president, Jay Gold, being away, she left Brogan in charge. She took that to heart. Good thing because then she didn’t hear my complaining. Again. For what felt like the hundredth time.

I sighed, grabbed a bottle of water, and sat in one of the large booths.

“Hey, Hummingbird.”

I looked up at my best friend approaching me. Asher Donovan was a tank of a man. Being 6’5” and over two-hundred-and-thirty pounds, no wonder I had been single for so long.

 “Hey.” I smiled at the childhood nickname he had given me. “What’s up?”

He sat down beside me and handed me an envelope. “Before you read the letter, know that it isn’t what I wanted.”

“Cutting straight to the point, are we?” I teased, not liking the sound of hesitation in his voice. Asher had always been the go-getter. The one who kept me on my toes and my shit together. My parents may not have liked that I followed him to another town, but they understood. For the longest time, people thought I followed him because I was in love with the guy, but that was not the case. We worked well together. We knew each other better than anyone else. Yes, I loved him, but only as a brother.

“Shit needs to happen fast,” he said, his voice lowering. “I don’t want to bring you in on this, but you’re the only one I can trust.”

My heart sped up. “What’s going on? I haven’t seen you for a week and you’re dropping this in my lap now?”

“Just read it, Meeka,” he demanded, his words taking on an edge I had never heard directed at me before.

“Fine.” I opened the letter, my eyes moving back and forth over the words. After each sentence, my palms became sweatier. A cold shiver raced down my back. Fear gripped my spine. “Did you write this?”

“No. The only person who knows what I’m trying to do, did.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Asher tapped the table. “I need an answer.”

“You can’t expect me to drop everything and join you, Ash.” I shook my head. “After last time, I stopped going undercover. I can’t do it anymore. You know that.”

“I know. But I trust you. Only you. I need your help.” His jaw ticked. “Please.”

“You can’t throw the trust card at me.” Shit. The guy knew how to fight dirty. Asher didn’t trust anyone. He let on that he had it so easy growing up but living with a bastard of a step-father, his soul had been shattered more times than I could count.

“I need you, Hummingbird. Please.”

He had been the only man ever to tell me he needed me. A man I loved but as a friend. Just my luck. “I can’t.” My stomach twisted, tying into tangled knots of anxiety.

“Fine.” He got up from the table, turning back to face me. “I don’t ask you for much.”

“I can’t do it,” I mumbled, gripping the letter tight in my hands.

He nodded once, pausing briefly before making his way outside. The door slammed shut behind him, making my heart jump.

Asher was pissed, but there was nothing I could do about it. What he wanted from me was beyond normal. I would have to go undercover, live with him, and meet with these bastards who kept taking those girls. I didn’t know much more than that. The letter gave little information, but I knew it would be a dangerous job. It was one reason why I gave up on becoming a police officer. I could have passed the academy. I was at the top of my class, but when Asher said he was moving because his base was relocating, I didn’t even hesitate to go with him. What that meant, I wasn’t sure. There had been rumors, but none of them were true.

“What’s his problem?” Brogan slid into the booth beside me, handing me another bottle of water.

“Uh … who knows?” I had to try and figure out a way to make him happy. The guy was stubborn.

“Maybe
he
needs to get laid.” Brogan waggled her eyebrows.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Because!” she cried. “
You
need to get laid. Asher needs to get laid. Put two and two together, girl.”

“What!” I shrieked. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” A bubble of laughter escaped me. “You think … Me … Him …” I doubled over, holding my stomach.

“Why is it funny? He’s hot. You’re hot.” Brogan smacked me on the shoulder. “Stop laughing. I’m being serious.”

And that made me laugh even harder. The thought of Asher and me together—oh, God, even I couldn’t think of that without bursting into hysterics.

“What is so damn funny?” She shook me. “I’m being serious. Hasn’t the thought ever crossed your mind?”

“No! Are you insane? He’s my best friend. He’s like a brother to me.” Yeah, the guy was good looking, but I had never thought of him that way. He had women coming and going faster than I changed panties. The guy was a user. A player. Even if we weren’t as close as we were, I would never think of him that way. He was not my type.

“A man and a woman can’t have a platonic relationship.” Brogan held up her hand when I went to argue. “I say by the end of the year, you two will be knocking boots and then some.”

“Knocking boots? Who says that anymore?” I tried to ignore what she was predicting, but it made me wonder … I shook my head.
No. Not going to happen.

“
I
say it.” She fluffed her hair. “Now, go see what has his panties in a bunch.” Brogan left me alone, greeting Maxine Stanton, the Vice-President of King’s Harlots, before she made her way to the back. Probably to work out again. Brogan was a little tank, but I often wondered why she worked out so much. She never gave me a reason when I asked. All she ever said was that she wanted to be healthy. But everything in me told me it was something else.

“Checking out?” Max called from behind me.

“Yeah. I have to meet someone.”

“Okay. Jay should be here soon,” Max warned.

I swallowed hard. The president and I got off on the wrong foot, and I didn’t know how to make it better. I joined the club because of Brogan. It showcased powerful and strong women, and I wanted to be a part of it. But when the president didn’t trust you, you lived day to day on a very thin wire. Most people didn’t think she would do anything to harm any of us—and she wouldn’t, as long as we remained on her good side.

“You two need to talk,” Max suggested. “Jay can be hard-headed, but she’s softening up a bit now that she’s with Angel.”

“She’s done talking to me.” I shrugged. “I’m not going to force her to like me or to understand why I did what I did. It involved her sister. I should have told her.” It was my fault Jay hated me. I got that. Angel wasn’t a huge fan of Asher right at that moment, either.

“Give her time.” Max gave me a quick hug, wincing.

“How’s that baby of yours?” I leaned back, placing a hand over her small belly.

“Growing.” She sighed, her eyes shining.

“Give him time,” I said softly, referring to the man who had invaded her life months before.

She nodded, turning away from me but not before I saw her wipe a tear that slipped down her cheek.

My heart panged. The father of her baby, Dale Michaels, wanted nothing to do with them. From what I had heard, he had fallen into a darkness.

Partying. Drinking. Ladies.

It was horrible to see Max’s heart break day after day.

Loud laughter sounded as the door swung open, revealing Jay and Angel. The boisterous sound simmered when Jay’s gaze locked with mine.

“Hi,” I said, my voice soft.

“Hi.” Jay walked by me, pulling Angel along behind her. “We have a meeting at five.” She turned back to me. “But you and I are meeting beforehand.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Angel mumbled something in her ear.

She grinned, smacking him playfully on the arm.

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and kissed her fully on the mouth.

My cheeks heated. Leaving the club before I intruded even more on their private moment, I headed to Asher’s. Knowing he was going to be difficult as shit, I put on my big girl panties and walked the two blocks to his home.

MEEKA SAID
no.

I lifted the 250lb weight, shoving the barbell above my head. My muscles trembled. My arms shook. Sweat dripped down my face, droplets falling off of my chin. I should have given up. I should have dropped the weight so long ago but when I was pissed, I fought. It was how I had been trained. How I had been taught.

Charles Brian had called me personally when I left Meeka at the club. He wanted to see how my progress was going. The bastard had the nerve to laugh at me when I told him my
pet
was being difficult.

The only way to get through to Meeka, to get her to understand that I needed her with me, would be to guilt her. It was my last resort. I had to play the card I didn’t even want to think about.

“
Fuck
.” I dropped the weights, the crash vibrating down my spine.

The phone rang, interrupting my next self-inflicted torture. “What?”

“Status?”

I mentally counted to ten before I answered Angel. “Negative.”

“She needs in. It’s the only way.”

After meeting up with Charles, I drove right over to Angel’s and explained the situation. He had convinced Jay to give us some privacy, but with them living together, I didn’t know how much was shared between them. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

“But I—”

“There has been more information leaked on Charles Brian,” Angel said, his voice rough. “We meet at King’s Harlots Club House at five.” And with that, he hung up.

He may have been in on the operation with me, but it still wasn’t the same. The only way I could even begin to convince Charles to let me into the main house would be with having Meeka at my side. But I still wasn’t sure if that would work. It was worth a shot, and I would die before I gave up.

Continuing with my workout, I tried to think of every possible scenario that would convince Meeka to join me.

A heavy knock sounded on my front door, jarring my thoughts, but I ignored it. Whoever it was could wait or come back later.

The knock sounded again. It became angry and forced. Heavy footsteps bound into my foyer.

“Next time, you should try locking the door if you don’t want any company.” Charles stood at the entrance way to my home gym with two larger men behind him.

“Most people wouldn’t just barge in.” I slammed a fist against the punching bag in front of me. “They would get the hint.”

“They would. But if you don’t already know, I’m not like most people.” He smirked, crossing his arms under his chest.