Obligation, p.21
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       Obligation, p.21

         Part #2 of Underground Kings series by Aurora Rose Reynolds
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  “Justin didn’t say that.”

  “Just because his name isn’t on the papers doesn’t mean anything, kid.”

  Once we reach the club, we go to the front of the line, where Sven knows one of the bouncers at the door, and they let us in without a word. Once we walk in the door, we know where the cameras are, so we avoid them at each turn.

  From Justin’s intel, we know that the club has three levels. The top is all VIP, which has smoked-glass panels with red backlights every twelve feet, making it look like a steamed shower with dancing people silhouetted behind the glass.

  The second floor has the same panels, but these are blue and techno music is loudly pumping. The first floor is a large bar that goes around the whole perimeter of the room, with a dance floor in the middle.

  “Let’s head up and see the layout,” I say.

  We walk towards the stairs that will take us up a level. We know where Paulie would be hanging out, but seeing it on paper and being here in person are two different things.

  “Sven?” a woman says halfway up the first flight of stairs.

  “Hey, babe. I don’t have time right now.” He removes her hands from him then jogs to catch up with me.

  “Sven,” another woman says.

  I look over at him and frown when he says the same thing he just said to the last one.

  “Hey, stranger,” a blonde says, stepping in front of him.

  I shake my head. I have had my fair share of partners, but this is fucking ridiculous. No wonder Maggie is running away from him.

  “It’s not normally this bad,” he tells me once he’s free from yet another woman.

  “I should have had you stay home with Frank,” I mutter, looking around the second level.

  “Fuck off,” he grumbles then points toward VIP, where there is another set of stairs, this one blocked off by a red, velvet rope and a woman standing there with a clipboard in her hand.

  “We need to get up there,” I tell Sven.

  He smiles and walks towards the rope. The woman’s face lifts and she smiles as he gets near. I follow close behind him and hear her say his name. His hand goes to her waist, and he dips his head close to her ear. She looks over at me then nods and pulls the rope. He kisses her cheek then says something else before we make our way up the last set of stairs.

  We walk up to VIP and look around. There’s a bar off to the side with steam rising up out of the glass behind the bar. Sven taps my shoulder and nods to the right. I see the guy from the photo, the one I swear is undercover. He’s standing off to the side, his head lowered as he talks on the phone.

  “Where’s Paulie?” I question, knowing he has to be close.

  I hear someone yell, “Fucker!” and I start toward the commotion while staying in the shadows.

  Paulie is standing over some kid, who is lying on top of a busted-up glass table. His hands are in front of his face, and I can see that he’s bleeding from open wounds on his arms. Paulie leans over him and spits, and then he starts to laugh before looking around at the people who have formed a circle, making sure they’re laughing too.

  “Get up and get out of here,” Paulie says, kicking the guy, who rolls to his stomach before scrambling to his feet and taking off.

  “That guy is a fucking dick,” Sven says, and I can’t agree more. He is a fucking egomaniac.

  “We need to find our opening. You watch Ivan, and I’ll keep an eye on Paulie.”

  He nods and walks off to the bar while I stay in the background. Every once in a while, a woman stumbles over, but as soon as they’re in my space, I give them a look that has them turning around and finding another man to fuck with.

  I still don’t even understand how being with Myla came so easily. It’s like the gods sent me everything I could have ever asked for in a wife, qualities I didn’t even know I was looking for.

  I watch as Paulie stands, pulls the blonde who’s been all over him to her feet, and leads her towards the bar. My pulse starts to quicken as extra adrenaline begins pumping through my system. My eyes zero in on him as he leads the girl behind the bar and down a hall that is almost dark with strobe lights that flash every few seconds. I follow behind them; this is it—the opportunity I have been waiting for.

  I watch as he picks the girl up. Her legs go around his waist, and one of his hands works between them. I get closer and pause when I feel a whiz slice through the sleeve of my shirt. I turn my head to see where it came from, and when I turn back around, Paulie is down on the ground. The blonde he was about to fuck up against the wall is screaming at the top of her lugs as she tries to stop the blood that is pooling out of his shirt.


  I scan the area again, and then my eyes land on Sven. I have no idea what just happened, but we need to get out of here. Commotion begins to build around us as the crowd moves in on Paulie, who is still lying there, only blood is now bubbling out of his mouth. I lift my chin to Sven, and we both make our way outside. I see him moving quickly ahead of me. Just as I get to the club exit, the lights turn on. I step out onto the sidewalk and through the crowd that has begun to spill out of the club, and then I head towards the street we parked on. When I get there, I spot Sven.

  “What the fuck happened?” he asks as we both get into the truck.

  I ignore him, pull my off shirt, and look at the sleeve. There is a small tear in the fabric where the bullet that hit Paulie tore through.

  “There was a sniper in there,” I tell him as he stops at the stop light.

  “Fuck. Do you know who it was?”

  “No clue.” I think, trying to pull up anyone I know with that kind of background.

  “Where was Ivan?” Sven asks.

  “He was still on the phone, and when Paulie went down, I saw him take off.”

  “What now?”

  “I go home,” I mutter, not knowing if I’m pissed or relieved.

  “This isn’t over,” he reminds me.

  “No, it’s not, but now, we have to wait for his dad to make his move.”

  “How long will that take?” he sighs.

  “No idea. The first thing he’s going to want to do is figure out who took out his son…even if he knew the fucker was trying to take his seat.”

  “That does not make me feel better.”

  “Did you ever play with blocks when you were a kid?” I ask him.

  He looks at me and shrugs. “Sure,” he mutters, obviously wondering where I’m going with my question.

  “What happens when you take out the block at the bottom of the building?”

  “It falls?”

  “No, it gets weak, and then, when you take another, and another, the structure continues to weaken until it eventually falls to pieces.”

  “How many more pieces until this is done?”

  “One,” I tell him, and the rest of the car ride is silent.

  Once we arrive back at the house, we tell Uncle Frank what went down, and he has the same questions we do, but I have no answers.

  Sven offers for us to stay, but there is no reason for me to stay in Vegas another night, so I decline his offer but do take him up on using his plane to get back to Hawaii. While we’re getting out of his car at the airport, he gets a text and starts laughing. I don’t expect him to share it, but he tilts his phone towards me and I can’t help but grin.

  Justin: Tell Hawaii sorry about his shirt.

  I shake my head and move to the plane.


  I walk into my house, and everyone sitting in the living room stops to look at me, but my eyes are on Myla, whose eyes instantly fill with tears.


  She comes to me, wrapping her arms around me, and the moment I have her in my arms, a sob tears from her that rips through me.

  “I’m home. I told you I would be.”

  “I know!” she cries.

  I tilt her head back and kiss her, absorbing her taste, letting her soak back into my system.

  “I was so worr
ied.” She holds me tighter, and I do the same.

  “Nothing could keep me from you. Not even the devil himself,” I whisper into her ear.

  She nods then lifts her tear-filled eyes to mine. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I hold her face in my palms and kiss her again, the salty taste of her tears mixing in with her natural sweetness.

  “Oh, God,” my mom whimpers.

  Myla wipes her cheeks then steps back.

  “You’re not dead?!” my sister cries.

  I shake my head. “I had to take care of some business,” I explain.

  “I should kick your fucking ass,” Pika yells, rushing towards me, and I brace myself, ready for impact.

  “Pika, I knew all along!” Myla cries.

  Pika stops halfway and looks at her.

  “He came and saw me the night he went missing. I wanted to tell you guys, but I promised not to tell anyone,” she whispers.

  Aye glares at her. “You cried and screamed about keeping the search going. You flipped out whenever we talked about giving up and having a funeral.”

  She drops her head, looking at her feet. “I didn’t want to have a funeral. I didn’t want you guys to give up hope,” she whispers.

  “This isn’t her fault. This is on me. I made her promise not to tell anyone.” I go to her and wrap my arms around her. “I didn’t want anyone to know what was going on. I couldn’t risk anyone finding out I wasn’t dead.”

  “I know that we raised you to always do what needs to be done, but this is going too far. Your mom was a wreck, and your sister and brother were devastated,” my father scolds.

  “Sorry, Dad, but I had to make sure that, when my son takes his first breath, nothing and no one can harm him,” I explain, and I see understanding flash in my father’s eyes.

  “We thought you were dead. I believed I was going to have to plan a funeral then figure out how to get Myla through this pregnancy without her having a meltdown!” my mom shouts.

  Guilt strikes me hard. She would have done it. She would have put her own pain away to make sure everyone else was taken care of.

  “I love you, Mom,” I tell her as she comes to me, wrapping her arms around me.

  “You ever do anything like that again and I really will kill you,” she says.

  I hear some grunts of agreement around the room, but I ignore them.

  “I needed to make things safe for my son,” I repeat, and my mom nods against my chest.

  Since Myla became my wife and we found out we’re having a baby, I have worked tirelessly to make sure she can have a normal life and our boy has a chance to experience normalcy.

  “I have been blessed to have you guys as my parents, but I don’t want my kids growing up in a house where there has to be men with guns hanging around all the time. I want to enjoy my family.”

  “I can understand that, honey.”

  “Runt.” I look at my baby sister, and she comes to me, winding her arms around Mom and me.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” she whispers.

  “I won’t,” I promise then look at my brother.

  He closes his eyes then comes over to us. He wraps his arms around all of us, muttering that he’s going to kick my ass.

  “I’m sorry, guys, but thank you for taking care of Myla for me,” I tell Aye and Pika.

  “Always,” Pika says, and for once, there is no feeling of jealousy—just gratefulness.

  “You don’t even have to thank me,” Aye says.

  I nod then step away from my mom, my sister, and me brother, and step towards my dad. Then I hug him like I haven’t done since I was a kid.

  “I love you, son, and I’m proud of the man you have become,” he tells me.

  I pat him on his back then step away and walk right to Myla to scoop her up.

  “What are you doing?!” she shouts.

  “We’re going to bed,” I tell her, looking at her beautiful face.

  “Your family’s here, and you just got home.”

  “I don’t care.” I lift my head and look at my family. “No offense, but I’m taking Myla to bed. You guys can stay or go,” I tell them then turn and walk to our room, where I carefully set her on the bed then get down on my knees in front of her, lifting her shirt up so I can press my mouth to her stomach.

  “You shaved your head,” she says quietly, running her hands over my buzzed hair.

  I close my eyes, relishing the feeling of her touching me. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll miss your hair.”

  I open my eyes and smile. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she repeats, resting her forehead against mine while her hands curve over my skull.

  “It will grow back.”

  “You look good in jeans,” she teases.

  “Yeah?” I chuckle.

  “Definitely,” she whispers, placing her mouth on mine.

  I let her take charge for a moment then push her to her back, taking over. This is what I would kill for—the woman under me and my child she is carrying. They make everything worthwhile.



  “You can do it, makamae,” I tell Myla, kissing the top of her head while she bears down on another contraction.

  “Oh, God, Kai!” she screams.

  I wish I could take her pain away. Since the moment we arrived five hours ago, she has been in pain. They gave her the epidural as soon as we got here because she was already dilated five centimeters, but it only numbed the left side of her body.

  “You’re doing so good.” I press my forehead to hers as she lies back on the bed, looking exhausted.

  “One more, Myla,” the doctor says.

  I want to tell her to shut up, that my wife is exhausted, but when the nurse hands her a blanket, I relax.

  “He’s almost here,” I tell her as her foot presses into my hand and she pushes again, her face turning so red that it looks purple.

  “Five-count,” the doctor says.

  We all start counting. Once we reach five, Myla collapses back onto the bed, breathing heavily as a loud cry fills the room.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I whisper, kissing the skin above her ear as our son is placed on her chest.

  “He’s really here,” she whispers, running her hand over his still-wet hair. “He is so beautiful.” Her eyes lift to meet mine, and the wonder I see there takes my breath away.

  I lean in and whisper against her lips, “He is beautiful.”

  His skin is lighter than mine but darker than Myla’s. His hair is black, and it already has a little wave to it. His nose is wide—like mine and the rest of the men in my family.

  “We need a name,” she says.

  I look at her then at our son. Since the moment we talked about naming him, I have said that I wanted to wait until we met him. I knew I wanted our son to have a strong name, a name that demanded respect, one that a good man, a man of honor, would have.

  “What do you think of Maxim?” I ask her.

  Tears fill her eyes as she looks down at him again and whispers, “Maxim,” then kisses his head. “It’s perfect.”

  “I’m going to take him and get him cleaned up,” a nurse says softly.

  I look at her then my son and want to say no, but I know she has a job to do.

  “I’ll bring him back,” she assures me.

  I nod, and Myla kisses his head once more before the nurse takes him from her arms.

  “I can’t believe he’s here,” she says as we watch the nurses clean him up.

  I knew the moment I met Myla that she was going to change my life. I just had no idea to what extreme it would be. Not only did she make me a husband and father, but she made me want to be better, someone she would be proud to call hers.

  “Love you, makamae,” I tell her.

  She shakes her head and lifts her hand to run down my jaw. “Love you too,” she whispers.

  One year later


  “Kai!” I yell as my hands g
o to the top of his head between my legs.

  I woke up with Kai behind me on the bed. His hand was wrapped over my waist, his leg over the top of mine so I couldn’t move as his fingers slid in and out of me, torturing me. When I was going to come from his fingers, he turned me over then tormented my breasts while holding my hands against my stomach.

  Now, his head is between my legs, and I finally have the ability to touch him, but that doesn’t mean he is giving me what I want.

  “I really want to come,” I tell him, and his fingers slowly slide into me, lifting up when they reach that beautiful spot. “Kai, please,” I whisper.

  That must be what he wanted, because his mouth latches on to my clit and his fingers pump quickly, making the orgasm that was building detonate. My legs start to shake, and my hands go to my sides on the bed, bunching up the sheets in my fists, My hips lift higher to his mouth as he drinks my orgasm, the strokes of his fingers and tongue slowing.

  I try to get my body back under control as I feel his mouth on my belly. Then it’s on my breast as he moves up my body until his hips are snugly between my thighs.

  “Good morning.” He smiles as his hand wraps around the back of my neck.

  His mouth comes down on mine, stealing the last of my breath as he enters me with one long thrust. The taste of me and him is on my mouth as he consumes me. I lift my hands to his back as his hand travels down my side, over my hip, and then under, lifting my thigh higher as he goes deeper.

  “Right there,” I hiss when he hits that spot deep inside me that has my toes curling and my thighs squeezing his waist tighter.

  “I feel it. Squeeze me.”

  He groans as his fingers dig into my skin and his hips pump faster. I lift my other leg higher and he wraps his arm under it, lifting up so he can pound harder.

  “Oh, God!” I scream, putting my hands above my head, pressing my fingers against the wall.

  He dips his head and pulls my nipple into his mouth, and I feel my pussy begin to pulse around him, pulling him deeper as my orgasm overtakes me. His hips jerk. Then he plants himself deep, his forehead falling to my collarbone as I feel his chest moving rapidly and the beat of his heart pounding against my sweat-soaked skin.

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