The Queen of Hearts

CH. 43

Kylie Jones

Hanging out with the sister chapter was weird. It felt close to the first night I spent at the Hells Dragons. The night Damon kissed me and ran off. Unlike last time, I was now surrounded by bikers who knew my value.

The prospects had been a big part of helping me feel as home as I could be in this situation. We had been working out every day, amping up the intensity. Walking around with a bruise back home was now considered normal.

Striker had surprised me though. After working out with the group, he had almost begged me to train him separately, and boy was he dedicated. If he had the guts for it, Striker could become a fantastic assassin.

Although I spent much time with the prospects, I had also managed to track down Jayden. The weasel was hiding out in Vienna, most likely from one of my flying knives. Pussy!

Returning back to the party, I watched the crowd of drunken, horny bikers roaming around. I'm not lying when I say every one of them had a relaxed, happy smile on their face. Apart from Damon and I that is.

Keeping my distance from him was painfully hard. Everything within me was pointing to him. I wanted to tell him every single detail of my life, the plans I had for the League mostly for him to hold me close again.

It seemed like the only time I could forget about the world moving around me was when I was in his arms. I was going crazy. At moments like these, I pathetically wished my mother was still alive. She always knew the right things to say. Considering my luck, I guess I should be happy I actually got to meet her.

"When are you planning to leave for Vienna?" Striker asked, guiding me gently back to reality.

Cyber assisted me in gathering the information and equipment I needed to make a dramatic entrance in Vienna. They had been expected delivered at the end of the week, making this trip the last one with the MC.

"At the end of the week, hopefully. Cyber mentioned the gear arriving around that time" I replied.

A wave of sadness flushed over Strikers face. I knew full well what he was thinking. Whether I succeeded or not, I wouldn't return to the club anytime soon. Not by the way things were looking at the moment. Leading the League was a full-time occupation, not leaving enough leeway for spontaneous trips to the States.

"You're not going to tell them, are you?" Striker deadpanned. He knew me well enough to know how my weird wired mind worked by now. Shaking my head in affirmation, we returned to silently sipping on our booze.

"Take care of them please?" The word tasted acidly on my tongue. I can't remember the last time I genuinely said please to anyone. Somehow, not so surprisingly, the well-being of my family overpowered the unwillingness for pleasantries.

"For you? Anything. Stay in touch though, would you?" Striker begged.

"You know I can't promise anything, but I will try my best. Go join your friends Striker. You should enjoy your first ride" He should hang out with his friends, not a close to middle-aged woman drowning the stress in her life with tequila.

Striker unwillingly nodded, knowing not to argue with me when I was in this state of mind. Finally alone with my reserved bottle of alcohol, I let my guard down. Gio had been right all along. I had managed to push the best thing in my life away, leaving me to wallow in a mixture of  anger and despair.