Page 51 of Property of Necro (Kings Of Anarchy MC: Illinois #1)

Chapter

Thirty-Six

Shaking a stern finger at Necro, Rot kicks the side of his casket, where our prez is currently recovering with the lid open. “Rule number one, no more tryin’ to kill yourself.”

Looking away like he doesn’t care we exist, Necro leans up to grab the lid and close it on himself.

Growling, Rot forces it to remain open, bends over, and gets in our brother’s face. “Fuck. You. We’re not doin’ this,” he snarls.

Closing his eyes, Necro gives us the equivalent of a child sticking their fingers in their ears.

He doesn’t wanna talk. I get it. He wanted to die.

He planned it out. Thanks to us, he failed, and now he’s gotta deal with the consequences of his actions.

Newsflash, he’s fucked in the head. We all are.

But we’re brothers, and brothers don’t give up on each other.

These are the same assholes who held me together after I killed my first woman.

I was nineteen. Her name was splashed all over the front of the local paper for child abuse, but the judge went light on her sentence.

I flew into a rage and stalked her for weeks.

They were there, supporting me through every step.

They knew my past and what I was doing, but they understood.

Not once have they tried to stifle my taste for violence or shame me for collecting trophies.

They go out of their way to keep me safe and clean up my messes.

Even Sola coming into our lives was for me—for us.

Mama knew what he was doing, and Rot was dreaming of this his entire life.

Sometimes, we don’t get what we want. We get what we need.

I need Sola.

Just as I need Necro to keep breathin’ another fifty years.

He doesn’t get to die before me. We either go together, or I go first. Preferably, all four of us go, lying in bed together, in one of those sappy romantic endings, like in The Notebook . Except in my version, it’s the End of Days . Wouldn’t Rot love that?

Aw. Shit.

Don’t you dare tell him I even mentioned that stupid movie. If you do, I’ll never live it down.

Anyhow, that’s enough of that mushy horseshit.

It’s been a solid week since everything happened.

We spent four days at Doc’s, living in that barn.

We’ve been here for the past three, trying to get Necro settled in with an around-the-clock babysitter, just in case he gets any more stabby ideas.

He’s on an all-liquid diet, and Doc wants him to take it easy for about a month.

I don’t think that’s gonna be hard, considering his piss-poor attitude.

What’s worse is he doesn’t remember Sola’s back.

He doesn’t recall her finding him in the room or holding her hand.

We haven’t told him she’s here or that she sleeps in the room next to his every night.

She’s back in the same casket, despite us offering our beds to share. She doesn’t want to. Not yet.

Rot turns to me. With his back to Necro, he crosses both arms over his chest and tosses out a fuck-the-world attitude.

“Screw him. He doesn’t deserve Sola anyhow.

” Rot winks for me to play along in an over-the-top, slow-motion, face-squinty way, as if I wouldn’t get it if he just winked like a normal person.

I press my lips together to rein in a chuckle.

“More pussy for us,” I reply, sounding more robot than person.

Rot rolls his eyes and delivers a solid you-suck, do-better look before obnoxiously licking his lips. “Mmmm. Yeah. She does have a nice pussy. So sweet and juicy.”

Just thinkin’ about that pussy has my cock thickening. I shake my leg to keep it from pinching. When that doesn’t work, I shove it down the inside of my pant leg. Rot quirks a brow and grins.

I clear my throat. “We should fuck her on the throne,” I suggest, sharing one of my top five fantasies. Only, it’d be Sola riding Necro reverse cowgirl. He’d be deep in her ass, and I’d use her pussy. Rot and I would take turns.

Closing my eyes, I can see it—us, her. The scent of sex and incense. She’d beg us to take her. When she’d spray us in her cum, we’d bathe in it. Drown.

Dammit.

I groan.

The lid to the casket slams shut .

Shoulders drooping in defeat, Rot blows a frustrated breath and hitches his thumb at Necro’s bed before signing. This isn’t working .

Give it time.

We need to tell him.

I snap my fingers together. No!

We aren’t telling him jack or shit. If he wants to act like a sullen toddler because he’s processing the death that didn’t come, then let him. None of us has ever been handled with kid gloves, and we’re not about to start now.

Giving Necro the space he desires, I force Rot from the room, where Mama’s waiting on us to take his Necro shift. Our VP claims the comfy chair by the wall of books. He’s got a carafe of coffee and a bag full of crochet shit to keep him busy.

So Necro can’t hear what I’m saying, I sign to Mama as he digs through his bag—a beat-up canvas tote, stained by blood. He still doesn’t know.

Setting what looks like a half-finished chicken on his big belly, Mama nods once like he understands what I said and points the tip of his crochet needle to the open doorway. Go , he mouths.

Fine.

With dinner out of the way and the day winding down, I guess now’s as good a time as any to curl up and watch a movie with Sola.

Leaving Mama to it, Rot and I find our smokin’ hot redhead naked in his bed, lying on her stomach, ankles crossed, tablet propped up, and all ready to go.

She smiles as bright as the sun when she sees us. Rot and I look at each other, and something like bubbly bliss passes between us as our lips split as wide as hers.

In a mad dash to join our woman, we rip our clothes off, not caring where they land, and climb in beside her.

“How’s Necro?” she asks, as I prop myself against the headboard and drag her to me. Sola rests her head on my lap and immediately, like in that video Rot sent me a week ago, suckles my semi straight into her hot, wet mouth.

I drop my head back and groan.

My brother sets the tablet so we can see, then pushes play and spoons Sola. He rests his cheek on the outside of her arm. Wanting to connect to them both, I lay a hand on Rot and gently toy with her hair.

Sure, the pleasure ratchets up, and I forget I’m even supposed to be watching whatever stupid horror comedy starring Nick Cage they're forcing me to endure, but I’ve never felt more at peace.

And horny

And… emotional.

Everything’s nearly perfect…

If only we could get this one last piece right.

Goddamn Necro.

We gotta figure this out.