Page 5 of Property of Prowler (Kings of Anarchy MC: Nevada #1)

THREE

PROWLER

Last night’s visit and run had been intense. Not only did Hunter not look good at all, but they’d almost gotten caught in their fur.

Some fucking kids out riding dune buggies at night like morons.

They could’ve probably gotten away with a wolf here or there, but Monster, for one, didn’t look natural in shifted form.

Plus, how could anyone explain a bear and a mountain lion hanging with some very odd-looking wolves? It just didn’t make sense in the Nevada desert.

His first thought had been of Cass. What if something happened to him? She’d be left with just Allie and the endless string of men she brought into their lives. He didn’t want that for his daughter.

Maybe it was time to think about settling down. Not just for him, but for Cass. She needed more stability in her life.

If Prowler officially took an ol’ lady, he was positive he could get rid of Allie with enough of a payday. Allie harbored the notion of their getting back together one day. If he severed that hope for good, maybe she’d let him buy her off.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He didn’t know why he’d fought it for so long. Actually, he did know. It wasn’t just once bitten, twice shy, although that was part of it.

No, the biggest obstacle was him, or rather a very furry part that lived deep inside of him.

Kansas was fairly sure that the instincts and drives of his wolf weren’t as integrated as in naturals.

That was the information they were going with even though Kansas’s information was limited. It was not as limited as his. Not to mention, in the quantum wolves, none of them had experienced the drives that Kansas did, at least not with the same intensity.

Prowler was still mulling all this over in his head as he strode into the chapel.

Something about the room always calmed him.

Maybe it was the warm wood walls and furniture, accented by dark rich colors that were reminiscent of old gentlemen’s clubs.

Perhaps it was the gavel that had slammed down the well-deserved sentence of an infamous serial killer, and now rested innocently against the mahogany table that dominated the space.

Prowler was sure those things contributed to the feelings that washed over him, but the overwhelming sense of brotherhood and belonging told him it was the purpose of the space more than anything else.

It was where his shifter status took a backseat to his club.

His family.

Church didn’t start for another fifteen minutes, so he sat in contemplative silence until Bulldog strode in with two steaming mugs of coffee, handing one to Prowler.

“Thank fuck.” He took a sip and let the caffeine speak to his soul. “Did I ever tell you that you’re my best VP ever?”

“I’m your only VP, dickbag.”

“That doesn’t invalidate the previous statement.” He saluted him with his mug before taking another fortifying sip.

Their runs always wore them out. They only took fur once a week or less, depending on who needed it the most. So, packing a week’s worth of running and hunting into one night was exhausting.

Without thinking, Prowler blurted out what had been on his mind. A question he’d meant to pose only to himself, but he kinda just asked Bulldog.

“Do you think it’s possible for men like us to settle down?”

“If you mean Kings who don’t exactly follow the letter of the law, yeah, with the right woman.

If you mean shifters, then, well, also yeah, with the right woman.

But if you mean you and me specifically?

Me, of course, I’m just a cuddly ol’ teddy bear and emotionally available if I need to be.

If you mean you, well, she’d have to be one hell of a woman who’d probably still get tired of your shit after a while.

You are possibly the most emotionally unavailable fucker I know, and I spent my formative years with my father, so that’s saying something. ”

“Wow, next time don’t sugarcoat it.”

“Fuck that. You want sugar, go grab a fucking Snickers. You want honesty, well …” He gestured to himself with his mug before taking another sip.

He knew Bulldog was no-nonsense. That was probably why his brain told his mouth to speak aloud.

“You think I’m emotionally unavailable?”

His veep spewed coffee over the table.

“Emotionally unavailable is the understatement of the century. Here’s regular fuckers over here.” Bulldog gestured with his mug all the way to the left. “And emotionally unavailable is over here.” He gestured with his right hand. “You are over there by that fucking wall somewhere.” He pointed.

“Point made.” With that kind of glowing assessment, there wasn’t much to be gained by continuing the conversation, but Bulldog had other ideas.

“Here’s the thing though, Prez, I believe you’re only in a state of forced unavailability. I bet before the ex and the wolf, you were too available. The all-in type of guy who expected the house with a picket fence and a golden retriever or some shit. Am I right?”

Prowler didn’t answer, he didn’t need to.

“So, this.” He reached for Prowler’s empty mug. “Is all a suit of armor, not your true nature.”

Bulldog disappeared, then returned with full mugs.

So maybe there was a point in continuing. Bulldog had hit the nail on the head. If he were honest with himself, he wanted to get somewhat back to who he’d once been. He missed that part of himself to an extent. The question was how to do that.

So much was at stake already, more so if he added the people he cared about.

If he went to jail on club business, it would mean leaving a family while he did his time. With the life they led, prison time was a real possibility.

If he ever went inside, he’d have to sever with his wolf, like Hunter.

Hunter hadn’t been the same since and would never be the same.

Even if he got out, his life would be just a shell.

The only blessing is that the club was his only family.

He didn’t have an ol’ lady visiting on Saturdays or crying at home for her man who wasn’t coming home.

But Prowler had Cass. At least she was fourteen now, and maybe if he got an ol’ lady, she could look out for Cass.

That thought brought other potential problems to his pipe dream.

“How would I even begin to explain the wolf to a woman?” The wolf in question gave a menacing growl that faded into a whimper. Prowler didn’t know what it meant. All the years together, and he still couldn’t communicate with his wolf as well as naturals.

“ A woman or a specific woman?”

Prowler just eyed his VP. Bulldog knew exactly who had Prowler asking those questions, and it wasn’t just for his daughter, no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He just stared at Bulldog rather than answer.

“That particular woman can handle all that and then some. However?—”

“However, what?”

Prowler sat up straighter, leaning over the table, waiting for the however .

“You two exclusive?” Why was he asking shit like that?

“No, and yes.” With that mumbled answer, he relaxed back against his chair. It bothered him to no end that he hadn’t gotten more than a we will end it when we want to bang other people agreement on their little arrangement.

“Care to elaborate on that, Prez?”

“Not really. However, what?”

“Boogey said there was a man at her place last night.”

Prowler shot out of the chair as if his ass were on fire.

“What?”

He wasn’t just pissed that Taylor was entertaining another man, but that his daughter was there.

That was a line, one that although she didn’t know existed, she’d crossed.

With everything Taylor knew about Allie and the men in and out of Cass’s life, he couldn’t imagine why she’d have thought that would be okay.

“Calm down, Prez. From what was captured on the camera footage, he never entered the residence. She made him wait outside, and when she slipped out the door, she did so with just enough room to clear her rack before closing it behind her. Then she handed him something, he pocketed it, picked her up, gave her a kiss, and left. The whole exchange lasted about three minutes.”

Prowler wiggled his fingers toward his vice until he pulled his phone from his pocket and cued up the footage. After turning up the brightness, Prowler watched the man walk up from down the street.

The asshole jogged up the porch, rang, knocked, and rang again before Taylor opened the door a sliver and stuck her face through. A few seconds later, she closed the door, while the man shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting.

When Taylor emerged again, closing the door behind her, she handed him something, then crossed her arms. Looking behind her at the door before turning back to the man. Sure enough, after pocketing whatever she gave him, he scooped her into his arms and kissed her on the lips.

Lips he would give his left nut to kiss but had held off doing so. One, because kissing was way too intimate for hookups. And two, he feared that as with natural wolves, he would know immediately if they belonged together.

Kansas said he’d get a sense of it, one Kansas hadn’t experienced yet, but had been described to him by those who had, as a sense of peace and belonging. Home.

It wasn’t unusual to see Kansas lock lips with every chick in a bar. It was how he greeted people, always looking for the one to be his.

So, Prowler had avoided kissing since he’d learned that little tidbit. Truth be told, he wasn’t afraid of kissing Taylor because she might be his mate, but instead because she might not be.

If he didn’t sense anything at all, he was afraid he’d always wonder if his mate was still out there or if quantum wolves, as they’d taken to calling it, were just missing that drive like some of the other instincts naturals had.