Chapter 5 Inviting The Biker King In
Kane's POV
“Make sure we get the weapons from the East District tomorrow morning,” I tell Marcel, my VP. “We can’t protect our clients if we don’t have the right weapons.”
Marcel nods. “You’re right, but I’ve already had conversations with Navarro, and he’s also interested in getting more ammo and even new guns, preferably the—”
Whatever he says is interrupted when we hear a loud motorbike. At first, we ignore it, until we hear yelling, “Where the hell is your boss?!”
Is that who I think it is?
No, there’s no way Sin is here.
“To God who made me, beards, if you don’t get the hell out of my front, I am going to shoot you and this fucking door down, now.”
Marcel and I exchange glances, walk to the door, and open it, cutting off whatever Ginger was about to tell Sin.
Her eyes meet mine, and she yells, “You!”
I smirk. “Hey, Sin. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you back so soon. I have to tell you, I’m pleased to see you, but you don’t look so pleased to see me.”
Her chest rises up and down in anger, and I swear, I can make out the heat emitting from her mouth.
“Cut the crap, Wilder, and tell your dog to get out of the way,” she orders, not even caring that she’s in front of my men and on my turf.
Ginger takes a step closer, and I can tell he’s pissed, but she doesn’t even cower; if anything, she points the pistol in her hand at Ginger.
“Fall back, Ginger,” I calmly tell him.
“But Prez-”
My eyes glint. “It wasn’t a request.”
He gives me a small nod and steps out of the way, not before giving Sin a look that she ignores, now pointing her gun at me.
Marcel snickers. “Are you aware of the man you’re pointing a gun at?”
“Do I look like I give a fuck, grillz?” she asks, and I almost let out a laugh when she refers to Marcel as grillz. I can tell he’s all pressed too.
“Excuse us, Marcel,” I tell him.
Marcel leaves, and then I smirk, looking at Sin up and down, and I realise she’s in her sexy officer uniform, and before you think to say a police uniform isn’t sexy, I assure you that seeing Sin in one would make you bite back your words.
I’m a testimony of that.
“If you weren’t pointing a gun at me, right now, and looking at me with murderous intentions, I would think you came in your uniform for a roleplay, Sin,” I tease, but she doesn’t say anything, which leads me to continue. “I’m not much of a roleplay fan, but for you, I can be anything, including your jailbird, while you slap me with those handcuffs of yours and we—”
“Shut up, Wilder,” she finally snaps. “I’m not here for your crude jokes. I want you to release the men.”
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What men?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Wilder,” she warns.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about S, Sin, especially since I thought you had come here for a role-play.”
“You’re not funny, Wilder.”
“Why are you here, Sin?” I finally ask, because I’m also curious to know.
“I’m here because some of your dogs decided it is wise to let themselves into a woman’s house in her absence and then trash it and proceed to threaten the said woman,” she replies.
“I’m confused,” I tell her honestly.
“So, you want to let me know it wasn’t you who told your men to trash my kitchen and break the window in my room?” She tilts her head to the left.
“Yes, it wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
“What makes you think it was my men anyway, Sin?” I ask. “We both know you’re a master at falsely accusing the innocent.”
“Because they spray-painted my car and told me not to arrest without a foolish spray paint,” she snaps, stepping forward, and I notice her brown eyes are lighter than I thought. “Don’t get me started on the fact that they made mention of you as their Prez. Who would do that, if not men who skipped English classes?”
“Show me,” I say.
“What?”
“Show me what they did to your house, so I would know you’re not trying to frame my men for something they didn’t do,” I tell her.
She glares at me, holds her gun in her left hand, and brings out the phone; then she points the pictures in my face, and it is bad. She shows me her car, and I realise why she came with a motorbike, but I can’t just tell her that, which is exactly why I say, “I don’t believe this.”
“What?!”
“This could be AI,” I continue, “I wouldn’t put it past you, especially since we all know how obsessed you are with our club.”
She takes a deep breath. “This is AI, right?”
I nod, trying my best to keep the grin that’s about to creep in at bay, so she won’t shoot my head off. “Yes,” I reply.
“Get your keys, then,” she orders, putting her phone in her back pocket.
“Why?” I ask.
“We’re going to show you my house.”
I beam. “Sin—”
“Don’t even start your crude jokes, Wilder,” she interrupts. “Get your bike, or use a bicycle for all I care, because I would hate to escalate this matter.”
“I would’ve preferred to ride with you, though,” I tell her.
“And I would’ve loved that, as long as I can find a tree to accidentally collide with.” She puts her gun in her pocket and starts her bike.
“Should you be riding without your helmet, Officer of the law?”
She ignores me and drives. When we get to her house, we park our bikes, and she says, “Look at what they did to my car.”
“What?” I ask.
“Can’t you see the fucking spray paint and the fact that my tires are slashed?!” she shrieks.
I turn to look at her car, but there’s nothing wrong with it, and I say, “There’s nothing wrong with your car, Sin.”
“You bast—” Her words dry in her throat when she sees that there’s no spray paint on her car, and her tyres are very much NOT slashed.
“What?” she asks in disbelief, walking to her car to check if she’s seeing things. “There is no way,” she mutters.
“It looks to me like I was right, Sin.”
She turns around, and I can tell she’s looking for the shards of the broken window, but there’s nothing outside. “Let’s go into my house, and you’ll see for yourself.”
I smirk. “Is that you inviting me in, Sin?”
“Wilder, don’t make me commit murder.”
“Dying by you is the only way I want to go,” I assure her.
She doesn’t say anything, but the moment we step into her house and she sees her kitchen, her mouth drops open in shock.
