Royally Chosen Christmas (Royal Sons MC #7) - Elle Boon Page 0,73

shaking his head. “Look what you did, boy. You done fucked up my office, and now you’re bleeding all over my expensive carpet. Guess if we’re gonna fuck it up, might as well do it all the way, hmm?”

When he’d gone to China and beat the fuck out of Tai’s brothers, he’d had fun with them before they’d ultimately killed them. Staring at the man who said he was going to tie his woman up and fuck her in his own bed, rage unlike any he’s ever felt sizzled through his veins. He hit Louis again and again, holding him by the back of the hair when he tried to fall. And then he did fall, but Scott followed him down, unwilling to allow him to get away with the shit he’d said he was going to do.

His fist ached, blood made his knuckles slide off the...hell, he wasn’t sure what the fuck was below him.

“Please, Scott, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Yo, King, I think you might need to come and get your boy off the hamburger meat in here.”

“What the fuck, Hollywood. Come on, brother, your ole lady needs you to chill. Come on, we got cleaners here.” King’s voice boomed through the quiet room.

The sound of his prez’s voice and Talena’s scared one filtered in through the red haze, bringing him out of the place he’d gone. He looked down at the bastard, or what was left of Louis. In a second, he would get up and face T and know she wouldn’t want him after seeing what he could do. Hell, his own club would probably kick him out. He got to his feet, wiping his bloody hands on the front of his jeans. Not that it did any good, what with the amount of the stuff on him. Fuck.

“I like him. He’s my people,” Cannon said, coming up next to him with a towel. “Here, it’s a lucky thing you have black ones, you know, on account of all the blood and shit.”

Hollywood looked at the towel then at the crazy bastard who handed it to him. “You realize I just killed a man with my bare hands, right?”

Cannon shrugged. “Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t realize anyone had slipped past me. I killed his two friends, stupid fuckers. Not as, er, creatively as you, but dead is dead I always say.”

“Gotdammit, Cannon, are you comparing killing again? I told you, we don’t discuss that shit like we’re talking about the weather. Whoa, alrighty then, maybe we can discuss it around here. Dude, that’s some shit. Who’s on cleanup?” Roq asked, his southern twang heavier than normal as he spoke as he came to stand over the bloody mess.

Scott inhaled, looking King in the eyes but addressed the room. “I have no clue who Gotdammit is, but he had nothing to do with this shit. I’m thinking the answer is yes, you realize I killed, and you clearly have no problem. As to him slipping past you. I think he was already inside the gates when you got here, Cannon.” He took the towel from Cannon.

“Makes sense. Not many get past me and my Spidey senses.” Cannon wiggled his fingers like he was shooting nets out of his hands, then walked back toward Roq.

King stared at the two men, then at Hollywood. “Are they for real?”

“Afraid so,” Hollywood said with a negligent shrug.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that. Go get cleaned up and take your girl with you. We’ll handle this shit, and I’ll find out from crazy one over there about the other dead fuckers. I would like to have one week or two, where shit don’t blow the fuck up, for once.” King ran his hand down his beard, a small smile tipped his lips.

“Maybe you can ask Santa for that since Christmas is next month,” Roq said, his deep baritone sounded bored.

King and Scott both looked up at Roq. “Are you going to dress up like Santa and slide down the chimney in a red suit?” King asked without cracking a grin.

Roq put his hands on his hips, looked down at his boots, then up at King. “Well, you see, I was going to, but then I tried to put in an order for the Santa outfit, and found out they don’t come in my size, partner. I’m sure the ladies are all gonna be most upset, but I did find a nice pair of red boxer briefs that’s got