Page 11 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

“I’ve always liked to cook,” he comments, placing fresh biscuits from the oven onto a platter and carrying it to the center of the shared table, where all the men eat.

“It shows,” I praise, damn near moaning when the fluffiest eggs I’ve ever eaten give me a mouthgasm.

I'm not sure if I should get up and help, so I remain seated and watch Mama work. He pours the sausage gravy into two large boats and carries them to the table, along with a big platter of fluffy eggs and another platter with hash browns.

It doesn’t take long for the men to fill in the empty chairs, including Rot, who stops by to smooch me on the cheek and say good morning before joining his brothers.

Once Mama’s finished, he prepares a separate plate, sets it to the side, and joins the men for breakfast. Feeling out of place, I keep to myself long after I finish my meal.

The first day is officially over, and now it’s on to day two.

Was the casket a one-time test?

Is this what I can expect each morning?

If so… I may go stir-crazy.

I’ve always kept busy. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I like to keep moving.

Idle hands equal racing thoughts, and I don’t need to dwell on what was or let anxiety creep in about what may happen.

I need to find my place here, at least until I can devise a plan to get away or Dark returns to claim me.

The goal may no longer be to gather intel, but my time here has to count for something.

Twiddling my thumbs, bored out of my gourd, I eavesdrop on the men as they carry on among themselves. One of them can’t wait to visit the strip club tonight. Another is getting ready to leave on a run with a few of the brothers. Before long, they’re done, and Mama starts loading the dishwasher.

Rot helps him rinse the food from the plates, and as he does, he addresses me. “How’d ya sleep, Red?”

“I slept in a casket,” I deadpan .

“I know.”

“Is that the bedroom you were going on about?” I ask, hoping that isn’t the case. If it was, he’s on my shit list for life.

“No. That was all Necro’s idea,” Rot explains, and Mama slaps him across the back of the head like an errant child. “Hey, fucker, it’s true,” he grumbles at his brother.

Heaving a sigh, Mama attempts to slap Rot across the back of the head a second time, but Rot blocks it, which earns Mama a solid punch in the arm.

“Knock your shit off,” Rot growls.

“Then seal those flappin’ lips,” Mama volleys, rubbing his battered bicep and giving Rot the stink-eye.

Pressing my lips together, I curb a smile at their antics.

“So,” I interrupt. “Am I allowed to ask what I’ll be doing? Am I supposed to sit in the kitchen all day? Not that I mind keeping you company, Mama.”

The big biker waves me off as if he’s not offended that I don’t wish to sit here all day.

“We’re gonna deliver that to Necro once we finish up here.” Rot jerks his chin at the separate plate on the island. “Then we’ll see.”

“So you knew I was coming, but you didn’t have any plans for what I was gonna do once I got here?” I ask, shaking my head. “Apart from the sex. Obviously.”

Rot tosses a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “We’re improvising.”

Right.

Improvising.

“I see that. Well, if you must know, I can’t cook for shit, but I am willing to learn,” I offer. “To be honest, I don’t know what I’m good at besides working.”

“Working over men. Gathering information,” Rot comments, handing Mama a handful of utensils he rinsed.

I shrug. “Yeah. Sure. All that.”

“Wait,” Mama interjects. “You told her we know.”

“Yes,” Rot replies, not giving a single fuck.

Mama grumbles under his breath. “That’s club business.”

“Tough, shit.”

“Necro’s not gonna like it.”

“I don’t care. He can take that up with me.”

Mama sighs. “You don’t want that, brother.”

“Well, I also don’t wanna lie to Sola. So, it’s come clean and piss off our prez for his own damn good, or don’t. I have already made the decision. Sola knows about the forty-plus other women who came before her. Just as she knows, she’s not allowed to leave.”

“Yep. I’d very much like to stay alive. Breathing is good stuff.” I inhale deeply and puff out my chest to show how much I enjoy oxygen. “If Coffin can refrain from ending my life, I’d be the most appreciative.”

Mama rumbles a kind laugh. “I like you.”

“I like you too, so please don’t let them kill me.”

“I’ll see what I can do, my lady.” Like a dashing knight, if the knight was wearing a chef’s coat and was the size of an elephant, Mama bows, sweeping hand and all.

Fanning my face like a damsel, I put on my best English accent, which sounds like a raspy chicken hopped up on weed, thanks to how wrecked my throat is. “Why, thank you, my good sir. ”

Rot throws his head back and releases a mighty laugh.

Mama winks and wipes down the counters as he quietly chuckles to himself.

I grin. It’s soft, but this is the best I’ve felt in days.

“Let’s go see the boss man,” Rot sings, his amusement lingering as he claims the plate from the island and offers me the crook of his arm.

I hop off the stool and feed my hand through. “Let’s go.” I wave a polite goodbye to Mama, who smiles as we exit the kitchen to visit secret places I’ve yet to see inside the church. This place is full of character. I can’t wait.