---

Rage was better than misery.

And blood was better than tears.

My president and I agreed upon that.

Jethro stood over Shark, who lay sprawled on the dirt out the back of the clubhouse, his angry red face glaring down at the club member who’d provoked his rage. “Did you really think you’d get away with peddling that shit on the side? You thought I’d never find out?”

Shark, the idiot, had been selling coke for the past month to a bunch of kids from the local high school. He’d skimmed some off the club supply and pocketed the cash for himself. At first, it had been such a small amount that it had gone undetected. But greed always won in life, and he’d taken enough last week for Jethro to notice. Our president’s ruthless way of dealing with betrayal like this meant it had only taken him a day to find out who was responsible.

And here we were, watching Shark’s punishment.

Or should I say, his torture, because Jethro was just getting started. By the time he was done, Shark wouldn’t be recognisable. He also wouldn’t be breathing.

Every cell in my body roared to life as I watched Jethro deliver the punishment. I hungered for this kind of violence, the kind inflicted as retribution, and although I wasn’t the one to deliver it, I could taste the sweet victory of it as I zeroed in on the blood dripping from his mouth.

When Shark didn’t answer him, Jethro smashed his heavy boot down onto Shark’s face, grinding it harder into the ground. “Answer me!”

My restraint stretched close to breaking point. It took everything to hold myself back. To not push Jethro out of the way and shove my boot in Shark’s face.

Shark writhed on the ground and tried like hell to push Jethro off him, but our president’s strength was unrivalled. When Shark wasn’t forthcoming with an answer, Jethro yanked him up off the ground and slammed him against the brick wall of the clubhouse.

He gripped the front of Shark’s shirt. “You wanna know what we do to members who betray the club?”

Struggling for breath, with his face swelling and cut to shit, Shark managed to get out, “I swear I’ll never do it again, Jethro. I swear!”

Jethro’s eyes turned wild. Frenzied. Like a fucking madman—something I recognised and related to. “I don’t fucking believe you!”

Without waiting for a response, he pummelled Shark’s face until it was a bloody pulp. Two other members had to move into place to hold Shark up as Jethro unleashed his fury. Almost unconscious, the only sounds coming from him were grunts of pain and cries that turned to whimpers and pleas for mercy.

Jethro scowled at him in disgust. “Have some fucking self-respect and stop your fucking crying.” He grabbed Shark’s chin and pulled his face up. “It’s time to settle in. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

I’d been told what happens when a member is disloyal to the club, but this was the first time I’d witnessed it. It was also my first week as a prospect, and I knew I’d never make the same mistake as Shark. Fuck, I knew that before witnessing his death. I may have only been a prospect for a short time, but I’d been a hangaround for a while, and I knew I’d live and breathe for this club. I’d fucking live and breathe for anyone who was as loyal to me as I was to them.

“How was your day?” Ivy asked when I joined her in the kitchen of our tiny home later that night.

She stood at the sink, back to me, washing dishes, and my gaze dropped to her ass. Five years of that ass being mine, and I still couldn’t get enough of it or of her. Getting engaged to her two years ago was one of the smartest things I’d ever done. The sooner I had a wedding ring on her finger, the better.

Keeping my eye trained on the short denim skirt she wore, I grabbed the tub of ice cream I’d picked up on my way home and a spoon from the rack where she was placing clean dishes to dry. I popped the lid and moved to where she stood, pressing myself to her back. Ivy had a thing for short skirts and loose tank tops that gave me perfect access to all my favourite places. Today she wore both, and my gaze dropped to her chest. She had on the pink lacy bra I loved, and my dick hardened while I thought about ripping it off her soon.

As I manoeuvred my arms around her, ice cream in one hand, spoon in the other, I answered her question. “Long.” And fucking satisfying. “Here,” I said as I brought a spoon of ice cream to her mouth. “It’s your favourite.” Ivy had an obsession with banana ice cream from Baskin Robbins, and I tried to feed it to her as often as I could. It made her happy, and I fucking loved seeing her happy.

“Mmm,” she murmured after her first spoonful.

She stopped washing dishes as I continued feeding her. Hands still in the sink, she rested her head against my chest and gazed up at me.

After her fourth spoonful, she said, “It’s been exactly three days since I’ve had ice cream.”

“I know,” I said around a smile as I scooped more from the tub for her. “Too long to go without something you love.”

I bent my face to her hair. Fuck, she smelt good. I dropped a kiss there before lifting my head and sliding the spoon into her mouth again.

It was moments like these with her that I lived for. Ivy’s moods shifted so fast some days that I couldn’t keep up. Add to that my moods, and we spent a lot of fucking time arguing over stupid shit. As much as we tried, we were both too damn stubborn and unable to control our tempers to stop the unnecessary arguments.

Placing the tub and spoon on the counter, I slipped my hand down the front of her skirt and dipped my head again so I could kiss the bare skin on her shoulder. Not only had it been three days since she’d had ice cream, it had also been that long since she’d had my cock. Not by my fucking choice, though. If I had my way, I’d be inside her morning and night. And in-between if I could swing it, too.

“King,” she grumbled, pulling my hands from her skirt, “I’ve got all these dishes to wash and then I’ve got study to do.”

I glanced at the huge pile of baking dishes she referred to. “Why the fuck are there so many dirty dishes?” I’d known Ivy for eleven years and lived with her for four; she didn’t love baking.

She turned in my arms, placing her hands on my chest. Bubbles from the sink soaked into my shirt and some floated in the air between us. But I wasn’t looking at those bubbles; my gaze was focused entirely on the happiness radiating from my woman.

Smiling, she caught me up. “Our mothers spent the day with me. The girls, too. We made shortbread, white Christmas, rum balls, Christmas pudding, and a gingerbread house. You should have seen Skylar. I don’t think I’ve seen her as excited for something as she was for that gingerbread house. Even Nik was happy to spend the whole day with us.” My sister, Annika, had just turned seventeen and tried to spend as much time as she could with her dickhead boyfriend. She argued a lot with me and our foster mum, so it surprised me she’d stayed all day. Skylar, on the other hand, was only seven and desperately craved family time and attention, so I could imagine her eating up every minute of the day with everyone.

Time slowed while I captured everything good about this moment. From the first day I met her, Ivy had drowned out some of the bad in my world. I was eleven, she was ten, and she’d looked at me like she knew what wounds were etched into my soul. All I’d said to her was “Don’t touch my shit, and I won’t touch yours. And anytime you want to whinge about your life, I’m not interested. I already know that life sucks.” That had been the day my foster mother’s sister, Ivy’s new foster mother, brought her over to our house and introduced everyone. She’d listened to what I said before replying, “Deal. And if you touch me, I’ll kick you so hard in the balls they’ll fall off.” The way she’d said it was as if she truly believed that would happen, and for one brief moment, she’d flooded my mind with bright light, dulling the darkness in there.

I gripped her waist and lifted her onto the kitchen counter next to the sink. A second later, my hands slid up her thighs and under her skirt, and before she managed to protest, I had a thumb on her clit and my lips to hers.

Pulling one of her legs around my waist, I groaned into her mouth, “Fuck, I will never get enough of you.”

She kissed me back, but her usual enthusiasm was missing. When the kiss ended, she said, “I don’t have time for this, King. I told you that.”

I rubbed her clit and slid a finger inside her. “You’re wet for me so I’d say you should make the time for this.”

Her lips flattened in the way that told me we were in for a fucker of an argument if I continued to push the point. Smacking her hands against my chest, she threw out, “Everything always revolves around what you want. What about what I want? Does that ever matter to you?”

Fuck, something had her worked up. Letting her go, I took a step back. “What’s going on here, Ivy? What’s pissed you off today?”

Her eyes widened. “Today? You make me sound like I’m a bitch who is always pissed off.”

I raked my fingers through my hair, not wanting to get into this with her. Not tonight. Not after the events of the day that had me wired for blood. I’d come home hoping that some time with her would trip that switch.

“I’m not doing this with you tonight.” I turned to leave the kitchen. To put some space between us.

I’d only made it two steps out of the room when she wrapped her hand around my bicep and yelled, “Don’t you walk away from me! I want to know what you meant!”

I clenched my jaw and counted to ten, willing her to let this shit go. She didn’t, though, and I didn’t make it to ten before she’d convinced me to have it out with her.

Spinning back around, I glared at her, resentment and frustration choking the air around us. Why did we always—always—have to hurl our pain at each other like this? Why the fuck couldn’t we express ourselves without all this extra bullshit?

I slammed my hand down on the table next to us. “All right, let’s get this shit out then.”

She flinched before quickly recovering, every inch of her body tense and ready for battle. “I told you I have study and that I want to finish cleaning the kitchen, but no, you decide—and like always, it’s your decision—that we’re going to have sex. I’m sick of never getting a say, King. And I don’t like that you accused me of always being pissed off. I’ll admit I’m stressed with my study and work, but I’m not always going off at you about stuff.”

I wanted to tread carefully with her, but she’d worked me up so much that I didn’t have that in me anymore. “Almost every fucking day lately, I come home to a new fight with you, and the thing I’ve worked out is that whatever the fuck you’re arguing with me over isn’t actually the issue. So dig deep and figure out what it really is, and spit that shit out fast because I’m running out of patience for all of this.”

She took a long breath and stared at me like she was trying to figure out which way to go now. Finally, she spat out, “Fuck you and your patience!”

A second later, she attempted to barrel past me out of the kitchen, clearly having changed her mind about wanting to get into this with me, but there was no way she was leaving until I got to the bottom of whatever her issue was. I was done with coming home to yet another tongue-lashing.

Scooping her around the waist, I lifted her and carried her into the living room. She kicked and fought me, but she was no match for my strength. Depositing her on the couch, I straddled her and pinned her in place so she couldn’t escape. Gripping her chin hard, I stared into her eyes and demanded, “What’s really going on?”

Winded, she fought for breath, remaining silent while glaring back at me.

“I’ve got all fucking night, Ivy. I’m not moving until we sort this out.”

She continued to glare silently at me, until finally she exhaled and said, “You told your mum you don’t want me taking that job at the hospital.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s the job I’m going to take, and I know you’re going to make it hard for me to do that. And it pisses me off that you always do this and—”

I placed a finger to her lips to quieten her. “It’s not safe for you to work there. Not when I can’t guarantee I’ll always be available to come pick you up when you finish your shift in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t need you to come and pick me up. They have security for nurses who work that shift. I’ll be fine.”

Ivy wanted two things in life. Me, and a job in nursing. She had both, but she’d decided to do further studies, which meant she wanted to switch jobs so she could work nights and have the days to study. She’d found a job, but I didn’t like the fact she’d be walking out of work at 2:00 a.m. alone. Now that I’d been made a prospect, who the fuck knew when I’d be called out at night for club business.

“I don’t know that for sure, and I won’t allow something I’m not one hundred percent on.”

“Oh my God, you can be an ass!” She pushed hard against my chest, trying to move me, but I resisted.

Taking hold of her arms, I held them by her side. “I’m not fucking putting you out there on the street for any motherfucker to do what they want to you. Do you have any idea of the kind of men who walk those streets?”

Her eyes flashed with wild anger. “Do you realise how impossible you’re being? And that this is how you always handle me?”

“Now you’re being dramatic. I don’t handle you.”

“Yes! You do! It’s like you’re saying I’m a weak woman who can’t fucking look out for herself, and I’m over it. I’m not doing what you say this time, King.”

My chest tightened at the loss of control I felt. Keeping her safe was all I fucking cared about. It was my goddam mission in life to never let hurt come to her again. Under my watch, she would never experience the kind of pain her parents had permitted. After they’d fucking rented her out as a child to men on weekends to do whatever they wanted to her, I’d looked out for her and dedicated time helping her find a way through that. And I’d continue doing that for eternity.

My hands crushed harder around her wrists, ensuring she couldn’t leave. Not until I’d made her understand I was right. “You will do as I say, Ivy. And if you go against me, I’ll take you out there myself and show you the kind of shit that goes on. You’ll change your mind real fucking fast.”

Her eyes bored into mine while she considered that. If hate were a physical thing, it would have been smashing into me. That knowledge scared the fuck out of me because it was the first time Ivy had ever looked at me this way.

Finally, she nodded and said, “Fine. You win.” Jerking her wrists, she added in the coldest tone she’d ever taken with me, “You can let me go now.”

My eyes searched hers, needing to read the truth in her agreement. “You won’t take that job?”

“I won’t take that job.” Her voice turned flat, resigned.

I wanted to figure out how to get us both on the same page happily, but right now I had the answer I needed, so that could wait for another time. And bringing up the fact that she sounded so down about it would only stir this argument more. Letting her go, I sat back. “Good.”

She watched me for another moment before saying, “Get off me, King. I can’t stand looking at you for another minute tonight.”

I ignored her attitude. All I cared about was that she’d come around to my way of thinking. She’d get over whatever anger she felt soon enough.

She didn’t waste time leaving the room, and as she went, she glanced back at me and said, “Don’t bother coming to bed tonight. There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near me.”