Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5), Nicola Jane [books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

ever afters. Well, if that’s what you were looking for, maybe you should have stayed in Ethan’s bed,” I hiss, and I know it’s the final straw. She pulls the door open and rushes out the room.

TILLIE

I don’t bother waiting for the lift to come. I take to the stairs, rushing down as fast as my legs will carry me. I don’t stop until I break out into the street. I glance up to the balcony, where we shared something so amazing just minutes before that vile conversation, and Blade is looking down at me. We lock eyes for a few seconds, and then I walk away. It’s not his story that broke me, as awful as it was, but the venom in his voice as he spat those words at me. I’m not so self-absorbed that I don’t know that shit goes on in the world, but I wasn’t expecting him to say all that stuff. And then to throw Ethan at me . . . again. All we ever do is fight or fuck. I think back to when the ol’ ladies were talking weeks ago about the only time they feel close to their men is when they’re in bed with them, and that’s pretty much accurate to how I feel right now. Maybe it’s why I let him into my bed every time he touches me, it’s the only time I feel connected to him.

I walk around for an hour in the hope that Blade will be asleep when I get back. I don’t want to talk anymore tonight. We go around in circles—one minute we’re fine and everything is normal, and the next, we’re fighting or there’s some other kind of drama.

At the hotel, the concierge signals for me to go over. She smiles kindly and holds out a key card. “Your gentleman guest left this at the desk for you. He was worried you didn’t take yours when you left for your walk,” she says. I take it, grateful that he calmed enough to worry about me. And maybe he’s asleep, which is why he left this down here for me.

I push the hotel room door open and the bed is empty. “Blade?” I whisper into the darkness. There’s nothing and my heart skips a beat. I push the bathroom door open, then go out onto the balcony. He’s not here either.

I rush back down to the concierge. “Was there a problem with the card?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Where did he go after he left this? Did he leave?”

“Yes. He settled the account for the next week and also left his card details for any extra room charges.”

Chapter Nineteen

BLADE

The drive back to London seems to take so much longer than the journey took going up to Scotland. So much has changed since our drive up there.

When I finally get back to the club, I have six missed calls from Tillie and one voicemail message. I press the playback button and her voice breaks my heart. I can tell she’s been crying. “How could you do this? You didn’t even wait so you could tell me face to face. I mean . . . it’s clearly for the best . . . and I’m glad I didn’t find out what a coward you were further down the line. It’s good this happened now. I had the concierge charge your card back. I don’t need you to pay for me to stay here because I plan to come home. Believe it or not, Blade, I had a life before you and I won’t have you dictate where I can and can’t live. Shit, the lengths you went to to get me out of London.”

I curse under my breath. Why the fuck can’t she do as she’s told? I pull out the plastic stick and stare at the little window telling me that Tillie is four weeks pregnant. She’s crazy thinking I’ve fucking left her for good. I’m here to put an end to Acid and all his fucking men.

Riggs looks surprised to see me when I enter his office minutes later, throwing the stick down on his desk. He peers at it and screws his face up. “Is that what I think it is?”

“I’m gonna be a dad,” I say.

“You chucked this piss stick on my fucking desk?” he snaps, and I put it back in my pocket.

“So I need a plan.”

“Where’s your lucky lady?”

“In Scotland. She doesn’t know she’s pregnant yet,” I explain.

He stares at me for a second, an expression full of confusion. “I don’t even wanna know how you found out about her pregnancy before she did,” he mutters. “Scotland’s probably the best place for her right now,” he agrees. “Blu wants us to meet in church in an hour. He’s got some plan he wants to run past us.”

Before I go into church, I call Tillie. Of course, she doesn’t answer. “Don’t come to London,” I say into the voicemail. “We’re not over, we just both need space, and I’m trying to sort this shit out back here. It isn’t safe, Sunshine. I’ll call after I’ve been to church. Answer.”

We sit around the large table and Blu throws some photographs down. Various men feature, all unaware that someone followed them and took these pictures. “These men all share an interest in Cobra.” Blu points to a man in a suit. “Meet Alec Baros. Greek underboss. Currently has a hit on Cobra which we could actually claim if you’d taken photos of his body,” he says, glaring at me. “All the others want him alive. He owes them money. This one in particular.” He holds up another photograph. “None of these men will be happy if they discover we ended Cobra. They’ll come looking for their debt payment here. Our other problem is Acid. This man,” he says, pointing again to the photograph, “is Viktor Petrova. He’s asked for named associates of Cobra. He’s offering