Page 15 of Cold Foot King

“Make her stay in his room,” a woman’s voice rang out from behind them.

King turned to see a woman leaning on the side of the hotel, which looked to be made of massive shipping containers from the outside. She pushed off the wall and walked closer, and King could see it so clearly now—the long scar down her face. It looked just like Katrina’s.

“Silver?” Katrina asked in a hushed tone.

“You want to throw this gift away, you ungrateful heifer?” Silver jammed a finger at her. “You will answer Wreck’s questions. You will lose your attitude. You will listen to what he is offering you, and you will shut the fuck up.”

A rumble escaped King before he could stop it.

“No!” Silver yelled at him, her eyes blazing gold. Her face was sharper now, her cheekbones chiseling out with her anger. Probably a big cat like Katrina. Lionesses, if he had to guess. She swung her attention back to Katrina, who was standing there in absolute shock, eyes wide. “Since you want to be a little liar, we can all go along with your lies. You can stay with your…what did you call him? The light of your life?”

“I’m not rooming with King,” Katrina ground out.

“You are now,” Wreck said softly. “The only reason we dragged you out of that prison was because Silver wanted it. She knows you. You used to be friends. She’s making the calls on you. King,” Wreck said. “You’ll be respectful with her.”

King ducked his chin. “She’ll be safe.”

Katrina’s eyes were filling with tears, and he hated it. Hated that the thought of being near him made her cry. He didn’t hurt women. He protected them. That’s what silverbacks did. They took on huge family groups and kept them safe. Everything that was happening was going against his animal instincts. It was too fast, too harsh.

“Fuck this,” Katrina said thickly, and shoved the guy that had been inching closer to her.

She stormed toward the door, but Silver blocked her path. “Key.” She held her hand out.

Katrina dashed her hand across her tear-streaked cheek, pulled the key card out of her jacket pocket, and slapped it into Silver’s hand. She lurched forward like she would hit her, but Silver didn’t move. She only arched her dark eyebrow and held Katrina’s gaze. “Don’t fuck this up. Just be honest.”

Katrina’s chest rose and fell in quick succession with her hurried breath. “King,” she said, inches away from Silver’s face, eyes locked on her. “May I please have the key to our room?”

King stood to his full height and sauntered over slowly, pulling the key from his back pocket. When he was an arm’s length away, he offered the key card between two fingers, knowing damn well she wasn’t going to let him in that room once she was secured inside.

Katrina’s tear-rimmed eyes gutted him as she snatched the key card and darted inside.

King swallowed hard and returned his attention to Wreck. He stood there by Silver as Wreck explained about the creation of a new Crew that would be forming in Montana and expanding Damon Daye’s territory. All of this should be interesting, but he couldn’t keep his attention on the only living phoenix, who was offering them a shot at life outside of prison. His attention was on the doors to the hotel behind him, where Katrina had disappeared. She was probably crying.

Wreck had said he’d known what King had done, and he knew what the phoenix was talking about.

He’d killed someone, and in front of humans.

But that wasn’t the worst thing he’d done.

Katrina had seen him at his worst, and he had seen her at her worst, and neither one of them was going to be able to escape it.

Chapter Three

If she could spend the rest of her life in this bathroom, she would.

Katrina pushed around a little container of floss, lost in thought. She had to escape. Had to figure out a way to run away and find transportation back home.

Home.

She frowned. She didn’t have a home anymore.

The towel was damp from the steaming-hot shower she’d just taken. God, how long had it been since she took a hot shower? The showers at the prison only sprayed cold water.

The Fastlanders had put toiletry kits in each room. King’s had a toothbrush and a razor and some masculine-scented shaving cream, among a bunch of other things. She’d used the toothbrush, and shaved in the shower. She smelled like men’s shaving cream, and the men’s body wash that had been in his things, but she didn’t care. Katrina wasn’t here to impress anyone.

She took the towel, wiped an arc across the fogged mirror, and studied her reflection. Her damp hair hung down in loose curls, and her eyes were soft brown. Those she recognized. The traitor scar Rook had carved into her face, she would never get used to.

She bit the side of her lip and turned away from her reflection.