Page 1 of Property of Prowler (Kings of Anarchy MC: Nevada #1)

ONE

PROWLER

“Sitting on your front porch, nursing a cold one with your eyes set on …” Ghoul scanned around and clicked his tongue. “On the neighbor’s place. Interesting.” Being extra observant wasn’t a bad quality in an SAA—or a mountain lion—but he damn sure hated it when someone turned those skills on him.

Prowler’s private life wasn’t for his club’s consumption unless he was taking an ol’ lady, and that wasn’t on the table and never would be.

“Fuck you.”

As far as quips went, it wasn’t eloquent, but it got the job done.

“You don’t wanna fuck me , Prez, I think you wanna fuck that sexy-ass stripper across the way … again .”

“She’s not a stripper,” Prowler snarled at the same time Bulldog spoke.

“Prez is smarter than to shit where he eats. Besides, Cassidy would tear him a new one.”

The look his vice gave him said he knew Prowler had slept with her already, he just didn’t approve. The burly bear of a vice president brought up his daughter just to judge his reaction. He knew it.

Wait, what did Ghoul say again?

How many times did his SAA know about, he wondered.

Monster pinged his gaze back and forth between Prowler and Bulldog, landing on his Prez.

“Casino floor dancer is just a family-friendly version of a stripper.” His tone was just matter-of-fact, not arrogant or judgmental.

Then Monster turned his gaze to his vice.

“Amen. Getting involved with someone who can see your house from their living room is a fast track to slashed tires, boiled bunnies, and a knife in the back as soon as you fall dick first into your next snatch.”

Fuck, he knew it too. Trying to keep a secret from a bunch of shifters was impossible.

Monster looked to Chef, the only non-shifter, but he just threw up his hands.

“I have no opinion on Prez’s personal life.” Chef replied.

Good man.

Not getting the response he wanted from Chef, their road captain swigged his beer.

He wasn’t wrong. Especially since Taylor was the one who watched his daughter when he had her, but club business or shifts kept him busy.

His brothers may know he was sleeping with her now, but did they know it had been going on for months?

He and Taylor had a regular arrangement, and thank God Cassidy was none the wiser.

When they needed an itch scratched, they scratched it. Then, depending on which bed they fell into, one of them went back to their own home as soon as the deed was done. No muss, no fuss, and most importantly, no strings.

They were on the same page about that and thank fuck, because he enjoyed her body while neither caught feelings other than bliss. That didn’t come along every day, so he was loath to lose it.

It was just sex, and it was convenient. They’d agreed when it no longer was, they’d stop fucking but nothing else would change. Especially since she watched Cassidy for him.

Prowler wasn’t keen on getting his dick wet with any of the girls who worked at their brothel. Community property wasn’t his thing and never would be. To say he’d never let more than one of them blow him would be a lie though.

Nor did he want to put in the effort to date anyone. Sitting around a steakhouse while making small talk just for a slim chance to get his rocks off wasn’t for him either.

Nope, a relationship with as many secrets as he had would never work, nor did he want that.

The current arrangement with Taylor worked just fine, perfect in fact.

“That ship already sailed,” Kansas declared.

Prowler snapped his gaze to his secretary. Not that he'd explicitly told him to keep his mouth shut. He’d assumed it was implied.

Kansas was the only one who’d been raised in a pack, so all shifter questions went directly to him.

So, apparently more of his club knew he was fucking his neighbor than he’d realized.

“Aw, fuck,” a few of his brothers cursed.

“You getting jailed by some pussy, Prez?”

“Hell no. Been there, done that, got the court documents to prove it.”

His ex was relentless. Prowler didn’t have any issues with child support. Hell, he wanted his daughter to have everything and loved her beyond reason. All the shit with Allie was worth it because Cassidy existed.

It was the alimony that pissed him off.

It was Allie constantly using their daughter to try to get him back and pulling shit that didn’t serve anyone but herself.

It was the smiling and nodding while keeping his mouth shut for his daughter’s sake that felt like it was crushing his soul.

“Famous last words,” Ghoul declared with finality.

“Bullshit. My ex is enough to remind me not to make that mistake again.”

Prowler didn’t do feelings anymore, nor did he plan to start. He’d done that once, and it damn near did him in when he caught Allie with another man in their own bed while his daughter slept in the next room.

That was the first time he’d ever killed a man.

It was also how he found himself sharing his body with a wolf.

While he’d love to say it had been a crime committed in the heat of passion killing, it wasn’t. He’d calmly told Allie to get dressed, take his daughter, get a hotel room, and not to return until the next day, all while holding a gun to the naked man’s head.

The voices of the past pelted him.

“Riley, what are you going to do? Riley, don’t hurt him. Riley this, Riley that.”

He’d tuned her out until he heard the door close behind her. That soft snick was like a starter pistol.

Instantly, he’d dropped the gun and beaten the man to death with his bare hands. Apparently, the moment the asshole had tried to shift was when he’d drawn his last breath. All with Prowler’s hands wailing on him.

Prowler learned the hard way that a wolf can transfer.

Every fucking movie had so much wrong about shifters.

From what they could and couldn’t scent in human form to ways to kill them.

It wasn’t a bite that made wolves. It could happen at the moment of death.

And the scent thing was exaggerated by Hollywood, at least for those who came into their wolf by accident.

By the time Allie had returned the next day with Cassidy, all the evidence of his crime was gone, and his life was forever changed.

The day after that, he’d filed for divorce.

He’d never told Allie what had happened, though she’d asked hundreds of times over the years.

It didn’t really matter if she knew or not; he’d agreed to a ridiculous amount of alimony and all her other terms in the divorce to get rid of her.

The only thing he’d contested was more time with his daughter. Another zero added to Allie’s monthly payment got him that.

“Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.” Ghoul’s words pulled him from the past. Following his gaze, there was Allie, pulling up his drive in a brand-new sports car.

Prowler’d bought her a perfectly adequate and safe mom car for his daughter’s sake just a few years ago. It pissed him off to no end that she wasn’t driving it.

When Cassidy emerged from the passenger side, all thoughts of Allie and the past fled. He couldn’t stop the joy that crossed his face. The smile she gifted him was a mirror of his own before she turned to wave across the street.

Taylor was putting out her garbage cans. How had he not noticed?

Her dark hair was piled on her head messily, and the half-shirt and cut-off short combo made his mouth water. Parts of tattoos and curves on full display. The memory of tracing the hidden ink with his tongue didn’t help suppress the wave of desire that flared to life at seeing her.

Not that he didn’t appreciate her all made up because he damn sure loved that vampy shit. When she was headed to work, she put on a ton of makeup and a sparkly costume that hardened his dick, but the more toned-down version was hot too. Just in a different way.

“Hey, Sassy Cassy,” Taylor greeted his daughter. “Wanna watch Tombstone and gorge on vegan pizza later?” she shouted across the way.

Prowler had already asked Taylor to hang out with his daughter as he had a long-standing appointment to keep followed by a run.

Vegas was too densely developed for a half pack of wolves, and a few other assorted animals, to be running around the city. The area around the prison was perfect. Acres and acres of unpopulated desert landscape.

So, without fail, every week, a handful of brothers went for a run after visiting Hunter and Sleeper. That way their club brothers were taken care of, and the free brothers got to sprout fur for a few hours.

Hunter was a natural, and the guilt over having to suppress his brother’s wolf never left him. While Prowler and his wolf had yet to bond, he still couldn’t imagine suppressing that presence entirely.

“I’m your huckleberry,” his daughter yelled back across the street in a fake accent, before turning to him.

Setting his beer down, Prowler stood and opened his arms. Cass flew into them. Her head was at shoulder level, and he was six-one. Yeah, she took after her dad.

“How much did you grow in two weeks, Jellybean? I didn’t authorize that.”

Cassidy groaned, probably rolling her eyes. “Dad, I love you, but you have got to get a new line already.”

“No way, kiddo. I think the one I got is perfectly fine.” It was the same exchange every time, and it was comforting.

He’d take it as long as he could get it.

Before long, his daughter would be into all the things that drew teenage girls away from their dads.

No way was he giving that up without a fight.

“Why do you let that hooker watch my daughter?” Leave it to Allie to spoil the moment by spewing venom. It wasn’t surprising. It’s what she did. She lived for the drama.

Before he could correct his ex, yet again, his daughter turned out of his embrace to face her mother.

“Taylor’s not a hooker, and I am more than just your daughter. I have a name.”

Prowler kissed the top of her head. “Go on inside, Jellybean. I got you a surprise. It’s in your room. Take your time. I’ve gotta talk to your mother for a few.”

Without protest, she followed his command. Once his daughter was inside, he turned to Allie.