33. Kinsley

33

KINSLEY

Prez’s dad holds his hand out to Tiberius. "You're a good friend. He needs that." Jesus then heads off, leaving Tiberius and Prez standing there awkwardly.

I search for something to say when I spot Razor. I remember briefly meeting him after I killed Rossi.

He turns to me and smiles. "Little Kinsley. How are you hanging?"

"I'm good now."

"That you are," he says, waggling his brows. What a flirt! “Catch you around, going to go and fuck a sheep."

He leaves me with my mouth hanging open. I glance at Tiberius and then Prez, who both watch me with amusement. "Do I want to know what he meant by that? I'm assuming he didn't actually mean a fucking four-legged sheep!"

They both burst out laughing, and tears leak out of Prez's eyes. "A club whore," he says, hooting with more laughter. "We call them sheep." He pulls himself together, as does Tiberius.

I give them both a dark look and punch Tiberius in the chest. "Shut up!"

They start laughing again, so I give them my back and push through the throng of men, looking for someone I might know.

"Well, I don't believe we've met," says a man in a Den of Filth MC cut. "Although, I have a feeling you're the chick who has Tiberius tied up in knots." He smirks at me from behind a can of beer.

"That's me. I'm Kinsley, and you are?" He shoves a can of beer into my hands, which I open and guzzle a good chunk down. Sucking Tiberius off is a thirsty job.

"They call me Wrath, Sergeant at Arms." He bows and comes back up laughing.

I shake my head at his antics. "I have no clue what that all means."

He slides his arm through mine and leads me outside to a set of Adirondack chairs. "Wrath is my nickname,” he says after we settle in our seats. “My real name is Jonah Ridge. In the club, I keep the peace among us, keep stock of the armory, and look after the prospects. There are other things too."

I don’t touch the armory comment, but I frown at the girl across the yard. She’s wearing a flirty skirt that barely covers her ass, paired with a tee that stops just below her ample breasts. Her badass high-heeled, mid-thigh boots complete the look. I’m not into women, but she looks hot. She also appears wary, as if she’s uncomfortable in the outfit and trying not to fidget.

As she disappears from view, I ask Wrath, “You're each other's family, right?" I take a sip of beer.

Wrath nods. "We are. Cross and Razor are brothers. Jesus took them in when their parents died." He shrugs. "We're only very bad men when the occasion calls for it."

"Not their real names, obviously."

"No, but it's up to a brother to tell a chick his real name."

I realize it must be a big thing, and yet Wrath gave me his. "Thank you for trusting me with yours."

He lifts his chin. "Lover boy is looking for you."

Tiberius crouches beside my chair and nods at Wrath. "You found company."

"I did." I smile. "I feel at home here."

Wrath huffs out a laugh.

"Do you know Wrath?" I move my eyes back to the big man beside me. He's tall and doesn’t have an ounce of fat. He also doesn't have the same bulk as Prez, but I have no doubt the man is dangerous.

"We know each other," Tiberius says.

"Hmm, so, did you have a nickname when you were a prospect?" I grin.

Wrath bursts out laughing. "Oh, he had one." He smirks. "It was unique." The man lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag.

I place my hand over the one Tiberius has on my knee and raise a brow. "Are you going to tell me?" Is he blushing? My grin widens. "Oh, this is going to be good."

A black cat suddenly lands in my lap, scaring the shit out of me.

"Ah! Where the fuck did he come from?"

"The roof," Wrath tells me.

"Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow."

Wrath takes my empty drink from me, leaving me free to stroke the now-purring cat. It settles onto its side along my closed thighs and falls asleep while I continue to pet it.

"Devil is soft as shit. We need a dog," Wrath comments.

I glare at him. "A dog would eat this cute cat. Don't you dare."

He snickers. "A murderous soul with a soft heart. No wonder Prez helped that asshole rescue you." He glances at Tiberius.

"Hang on." I narrow my eyes at Tiberius. "You were about to tell me your nickname."

He groans. "Mafia."

I laugh. "Mafia? That was your nickname? Seriously? What idiot gave you that?"

Wrath hoots with laughter as Padre joins us and says, "The idiot was me."

"Oops." I keep my mouth shut because Padre looks more like the reaper of death than a saintly man—that is, until a smile spreads across his beautiful face.

"Becks and Wilder used to pretend to be dueling mafia dons. Considering Beck's family, it was an apt nickname." He walks away, and Wrath joins him.

Tiberius moves the chair beside mine closer and sits down. He takes my hand and intertwines our fingers. "Are you happy, Kinsley?"

I relax into the chair and turn my face so I can look into his eyes. He is so open and breathtaking to me. "If I were any happier, I think I might burst." I pause. "I love you, which is the most important thing. I also like being included in this time with your friends. They've all been nice and welcoming. Wrath even told me his real name."

"He told you what?" Tiberius stutters. "I've known that fucker for fourteen years, and he’s never told me his name."

"Did you ask?” When he frowns, I add, "I didn't think so. Men don't always ask the right questions." I snicker. "It's a woman thing."

He laughs. "You mean, it's a nosy thing."

Becoming serious, I ask, "Are you happy, Tiberius? With me? With how things turned out?"

"I didn't think I could be this happy. Never thought I deserved it. But now, I don't give a shit as to whether or not I deserve happiness because I love you. I want to marry you. I want to put my babies inside you."

I can't help the way my eyes darken at his words. "I think you should take me home so we can practice you putting a baby inside me."

He growls and quickly has me in his arms, carrying me over his shoulder toward his bike. Setting me down on the small seat, he says, "Lesson number two—I'm going to fuck you on my bike."

My pussy throbs.