Page 26 of Property of Stone (Kings of Anarchy MC: Pennsylvania #1)

Chapter Sixteen

Yesterday, Stone brought Taryn over to inspect the old cafeteria’s kitchen to see if it would work better for her video classes. Or demos. Or whatever the fuck she called what she was doing online.

That cucumber bullshit she made the other morning didn’t look good at all. Or filling. If she served that to his brothers, they’d probably look at her sideways before spitting it at her.

Most of the kitchen might still be original but the commercial-quality appliances had been updated a few years back.

Better yet, the kitchen area was a lot bigger than the one at the house, giving her more room to work.

She’d have more burners, ovens, fridge and freezer storage, a huge stock room, and all the rest of the shit she had gone nuts over when she saw it.

With her eyes lit up, she ooo ’d and aah ’d over shit he’d never think twice about.

She was also excited about having a fuckton of storage for some of her chef equipment, unlike back at the house. At least the shit she wouldn’t need to keep there to make them meals at home. A requirement of their agreement.

Since she’d be coming over to The Castle on a regular basis, he had given her a key to the gate. When he handed it to her, she had stared at it in surprise.

“Every time I’ve been here, the gate hasn’t been locked.”

“‘Cause there wasn’t a threat. Now there is.” Or would be soon as soon as that motherfucking ex of hers got sprung. “Gonna be locked twenty-four-seven ’til that threat’s been eliminated.”

Her brow furrowed. “Eliminated?”

Fuck . Maybe he should’ve picked a better word. Neutralized? Dispatched? Silenced? Buried six feet under? Floating down the Susquehanna River? “No longer a threat.”

“He’s not even out yet.”

“Stupid to get caught with our asses hangin’ out.”

He had told all his brothers, as well as the prospects and sweet butts, that they needed to stay vigilant and always keep the gates locked. If they saw anyone suspicious, they needed to let him or Ogre know.

Since security cameras had been installed around the exterior of the former school years ago, he had Nut Sack check all the feeds to make sure they were all functioning since they hardly ever checked them unless they had a reason.

It had been a long fucking time since they’d had a reason. Usually no one fucked with the Kings.

Not even the pigs.

He and his brothers were all fucking pros when it came to getting in and out of a situation without getting caught. On the slim fucking chance anyone was nabbed, then they knew better than to tie the crime to the club.

If they did …

Yeah, no one fucking did. They all knew the consequences after that prison or jail door opened again. If they even made it out still breathing.

A lot of his brothers, including Stone, still had connections on the inside in various facilities around the state.

Prison was also a great place to recruit new prospects since some ex-cons didn’t have a place to land after doing their bid.

The Kings gave them one in exchange for their loyalty.

And that loyalty meant keeping their fucking traps shut whenever they found themselves sporting metal bracelets.

First rule of getting pinched: Don’t say shit except to demand an attorney.

Second rule: Don’t say shit until the club attorney—kept on retainer for good reason—arrived at the location they were being detained.

Even then, don’t say shit. The attorney was paid a goddamn fortune to flap his gums.

They drilled that into every new prospect’s gray matter.

Once the prospects moved everything Taryn would need into the kitchen—even some of her shit from the storage trailer—he asked her what else she’d need and she happily gave him a long list.

But what mattered to Taryn wasn’t what mattered to him. To Stone, the main benefit of having her recording at The Castle was that someone would always be around to keep an eye on her.

After a couple of the club girls had done the grocery shopping for Taryn, she cooked a huge meal for everyone last night.

While scarfing down the food, Stone swore his brothers all shot loads in their pants. No one had ever cooked anything that good in the club’s kitchen before. The pasta with homemade fucking meatballs was shoveled into their pie holes like they hadn’t eaten in a goddamn week.

While Stone agreed the food was good, in truth, most of them were probably stoned as fuck and had the munchies.

Today, she was back in the kitchen with a list of recipes she wanted to record to add content to her channel. The smell alone made Stone’s mouth water. No fucking surprise, his brothers were circling like a pack of starving dogs, just waiting for her to toss them scraps.

Yeah, he doubted she’d ever be alone while doing her thing here at the clubhouse. That peace of mind also meant Stone could go make some scratch later. He had two collection jobs to do today down in Lancaster County for a loan shark they worked with on the regular.

Bottom line: borrow money from a sketchy motherfucker and not pay it back? Better have that cash in your fucking pocket when Stone or one of his brothers showed up to collect what was owed and you hadn’t bothered to pay back.

They got the money? They might only get a few broken fingers as a late fee.

They don’t?

Yeah, a few broken fingers would be the least of their worries. They might be missing those fingers. Or some teeth. Even a whole hand. It all depended on the amount owed and what the loan shark wanted in “interest.”

Doing collections was one of his favorite things to do. Assholes desperate enough to borrow money from an “illegal banker” never went to the cops. No matter how many broken bones or severed digits they earned for not making their loan payments in a timely manner.

Excuses didn’t work for loan sharks. They didn’t give a fuck what the issue was, they just wanted their fucking money. Of course with an inflated amount of interest. It pissed the lender off even more when they had to lose a cut of that scratch to the Kings.

Stone’s MC occasionally did a little loan sharking of their own, but only with people they knew could make payments. Charging an insane amount of interest was easy scratch for the club.

He needed to leave soon to get those jobs done but he had to wait on Taryn to finish putting her shit away after recording the last video on her list. They had come directly to the clubhouse in her Honda after dropping the kids off at school this morning.

Tomorrow, he’d let her drive herself so he could go do his thing while she did hers.

But that was tomorrow. Today, he wanted to be close enough to keep an eye on her, but not up her ass.

So he leaned back just inside the propped-open cafeteria doors with a knee bent and a boot planted on the wall.

Taking a long drag on his cigarette, he caught glimpses of her behind the school’s former serving line, cleaning up and putting shit away.

By the time he finished his smoke and had crushed it under his boot, she appeared from the kitchen and headed in his direction with a smile filling her face and a spring to her step.

Cooking made the woman happy.

Stuffing their pie holes made his brothers happy.

A match made in fucking Heaven.

But her trek to him came to a complete stop when someone stepped into her path.

Stone’s eyes narrowed on one of their newer prospects.

What the fuck was Gooch doing?

When Taryn tried to skirt around him, he once again blocked her, reaching for the strand of hair that had escaped her bun and twisting it around his finger.

Fuck that shit. Stone’s teeth clenched and he pushed off the wall.

Gooch playing with her hair was a control move the shit-for-brains was trying to pass off as flirty. Stone saw right through that bullshit.

So did Taryn.

With her previous smile now upside down, she jerked her head back, trying to free herself.

As much as Stone wanted to rush over to them, he waited to see if Gooch found his smarts.

Or caught a knee to his nuts since Taryn was not happy.

She wasn’t the only fucking one.

Whatever hissed warning came out of her mouth made it look as though she was spitting venom. Then Gooch prevented her from skirting around him with a tighter grip on her hair. A hold no longer playful, but forceful.

The prospect must’ve missed the memo about Taryn being off-limits, since, apparently, Gooch’s fucking pea brain had dropped from his head to his dick. Stone would be happy to help him put it back into place.

It was time to step in and school the motherfucker on what level a prospect was in their MC…

Rock bottom.

From the corner of his eye, he saw one side of Ogre’s mouth hike up as he sat back to watch the upcoming lesson.

Stone was there in a few long and determined strides. “Let her fuckin’ go.”

Not waiting for the answer, he grabbed a wide-eyed Gooch’s wrist and twisted with enough force to break more than just his grip. With a satisfying snap, crackle, pop , the prospect’s knees buckled and he shouted in pain.

But he damn well released the woman he never should have laid a hand on. The same hand now jacked in a way it shouldn’t be.

Damn shame.

“She look like fuckin’ club property?” Stone growled.

“She’s…here…ain’t…she?” Gooch blew out a breath between each word. Most likely an attempt not to cry like the little bitch he was.

“Don’t ever fuckin’ touch shit you know’s off-limits. Thought I made myself fuckin’ clear about Taryn. Guess not. Since she’s livin’ under my roof, that means she’s off…fuckin’…limits.” His volume might have increased a cunt hair for those last three words.

At least enough to make Gooch wince.

Stone shot a glance toward Ogre where he sat at one of the cafeteria tables with Thor by his side. He had returned to finishing off a plate of whatever Taryn had made for one of her videos.

While the club’s enforcer had watched the whole exchange, he’d wait on Stone to decide the next step. And whether or not the enforcer should step in and take over.