Page 8 of Kane's Kingdom

"Black. No plate on the front." She folds her arms. "Can we do this somewhere that doesn't have an audience?"

A few brothers suddenly find reasons to look elsewhere.

I glance toward Judge. "Get the car inside the shop and check it over."

Bella's head turns. "I'm driving it to work tomorrow."

"Not until we know it's safe."

"It's dented, not dying."

"Then the check won't take long."

Her eyes narrow and I gesture toward the clubhouse. "Come inside."

For a second, I think she'll refuse even now. She looks past me at the painted crown above the doors, at KINGDOM COME arched over it and LIVE FREE DIE FREE beneath. Her father rode through these gates for most of his life. She grew up behind them, until King decided neither of them belonged.

Bella lifts her chin and walks past me, every step costing her a little bit of pride.

I follow her into the common room and stop where every man can see us. "Bella's staying in my quarters. She works the Landing under escort and comes back behind these gates before dark. She's under Kingdom Come protection. Anybody needs that explained, they come to me."

Nobody asks for an explanation. A couple of brothers nod. Others keep their faces blank, but the message lands where it needs to. Bella looks at me as if she can't decide whether to be angry that I've claimed the problem or relieved that I've made the protection public. Probably both.

The clubhouse is quieter than usual. Brothers sit at the bar and around the pool table, beer bottles in hand, conversation running low beneath the music. Tank leans against the far wall. Cash is near the kitchen with Wilder. Griz watches from hisusual place at the end of the bar, while Chains stands beside him taking it all in.

Bella still knows exactly how to enter a room like this. I see the moment she recognizes the muscle memory, and her jaw tightens.

"Your room's ready," I say.

She turns. "My room?"

I nod toward the hall. “Well, mine, but you can use it.”

“No. I'm not sleeping in your bed."

"I didn't ask you to."

A few of the men hear that, some of them smirk.

Bella's cheeks warm, which does nothing useful for my control. "Where are you sleeping?"

"Couch."

She looks toward the common room, where the couch sits in full view of the bar, the hall and every brother who'll walk through at dawn. "You're the president."

"I'm aware of that."

"You can't sleep there."

"I can sleep wherever I want, because as you just mentioned. I'm the president."

"That's ridiculous."

"It's also settled."

Her gaze holds mine, searching for the trap. There isn't one.

I've wanted Bella Rourke since before wanting had a name, before King and Red tore the world between us into sides, before I knew the girl who followed us around the compound would become the woman I'd spend years crossing streets to avoid looking at too long.