Just My Luck (The Kings)
Chapter 31

I couldn’t imagine life getting much better. Hell, it was already giving me more than I ever deserved.

Once JP and I finalized the paperwork, it was official. Abel’s Brewery was mine.

Well, technically Sloane was a silent partner with the majority ownership, but I had paid my debt to King Equities. I couldn’t have done it without Sloane, and I fully planned to do everything in my power to make that up to her—financially and otherwise.

I owed Russell King nothing.

I was free.

After leaving JP’s office, I took a detour down Main Street. Birds chirped happy songs as my long strides pounded on the sidewalk. A trio of women stood outside of a clothing boutique. One looked up at me with wide eyes, and instead of turning inward, I simply touched my fingers to the brim of my ball cap. “Ma’am.”

Behind me, giggles and whispers erupted. I clenched my jaw to fight a smile. For years, it felt as though I carried my past around like a brand. Everyone knew what I had done, and they feared me.

Judged me.

For the longest time, I felt as though I deserved their skeptical whispers and wary glances, but slowly, I was feeling the shift. A tiny spark of hope bloomed in my chest that perhaps I wasn’t as shunned as I once thought. Maybe if I wasn’t quite so closed off, the people of my town would see me differently.

I glanced up to see the fearful eyes of an elderly woman track my movements.

Well, maybe not.

Undeterred, I wound my way around tourists and townies as I enjoyed my walk through downtown. As I passed King Tattoo, I peered in the large storefront window to see Royal behind the counter and my little sister MJ sitting on top of it with her legs dangling as she talked his ear off. I turned and entered the tattoo parlor.

Their heads rose in unison, and I offered a smile in greeting.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Royal immediately asked.

The back of MJ’s hand landed on his chest with a thwack. “Shut up. He’s smiling, you idiot.”

“Oh, yeah.” Royal grinned and nodded. “Nice.”

I cleared my throat and fixed my face. “Hi.”

MJ laughed. “Hello, brother. You look like you’re having a good day.”

I nodded and spread my hands. “It’s official. Abel’s Brewery is no longer controlled by King Equities.”

MJ threw a fist in the air and whooped as she hopped off the counter. Royal rounded the front desk and stuck a hand out. “Congrats, man.”

“Thank you.” I shook his hand, and an uncomfortable warmth settled in my chest.

MJ squinted at me. “Oh my god, I know that look.” She pointed a finger toward my face. “It’s not just the brewery. You’re in love!” She squealed as I rolled my eyes, dodging her accusation. “I knew it! Does Sylvie know? I cannot wait to tell her!”

I brushed off my little sister as she danced around me. “Don’t you work?”

MJ beamed up at me with a smile and then stuck out her tongue, which reminded me how young and innocent she really was. “As a matter of fact, I do and I’m late. I want to check in on Red Sullivan before my shift.”

Red was the Sullivans’ dad, and he suffered from early-onset dementia, which required him to live at the assisted-living facility where she worked. MJ had always had a soft spot for him, though she seemed to have a soft spot for everyone.

I glanced over my shoulder as she flounced toward the door. “Julep, it’s . . . it’s kind of new, so maybe let Sloane tell Sylvie.”

“You got it,” she singsonged, with a salute over her shoulder.

Once she left I exhaled and dragged a hand down my face. I made a mental note to add a little sweetness to the beer recipe I was testing for her.

Royal’s hand clamped over my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m happy for you.”

I looked at my younger brother. “Thanks. I kind of feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m trying.”

He lifted a shoulder. “I think that’s probably all that counts.” His eyes gave me a once-over. “So, no issues with Dad?”

I shook my head. “We timed things right. He’s out of town, and JP pushed the paperwork through. As far as we know, there are no issues, but I suspect that will change if more comes to light about Mom.”

Royal grew sullen as he nodded. “You’re damn right about that.”

I looked around the tattoo parlor. “What about this place?”

“I own the business outright, but Dad owns the building. I guess I’ll just take the hits as they come.” His eyebrows bounced. “If they come.”

I nodded. “Knowing Dad, they will.” I stuck out my hand again. “But we’re in it together now.”

With a smirk, my brother shook my hand, and I squeezed. It was more than a friendly handshake.

It was a promise.

Eager to replace Sloane, I made my way past the marina and headed toward the brewery. I entered the back and quickly double-checked the kettle temperatures, ensuring things were running smoothly. When I made my way to the front, the brewery was buzzing with families coming in off the beach and people enjoying a late lunch.

I scanned the floor, pausing when I noticed Reina bussing tables instead of working behind the bar. The brewery wasn’t overflowing with customers, so it didn’t make sense she was tending bar and bussing.

I stomped toward her, relieving her of the plastic tub she had planted on her hip. “What’s going on?” I looked around, realizing I hadn’t noticed Sloane either. A sinking feeling settled in my gut.

Reina leaned in to whisper, and my stomach pinched. “Sloane was served legal papers today. She didn’t say what they said, but she was rattled. She’s in the staff bathroom, I think.”

I nodded, leaving Reina to handle the front of the brewery. I only stopped at the kitchen to dump the tub into the sink. I didn’t bother acknowledging the staff working and instead tore off in the direction of the staff bathroom.

I had raised my fist to pound on the door when I heard soft, muffled sobs. My palm flattened against the door. “Sloane. Baby, it’s me. Open up.”

The door handle rattled, and I impatiently pushed through the doorway. Huddled in the corner on the floor, Sloane looked up at me with red, puffy eyes.

She swiped a hand under her nose. “I’m sorry.”

Worry and panic gripped my chest as I moved to her. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. What’s going on?” I crouched in front of her, placing my palm at the side of her face. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine, and fresh tears clung to her wet lashes.

Beside her, she picked up a thick manila envelope and shoved it between us. “He wants—” Her voice hitched as emotion snagged her words. “He doesn’t even love them. He just wants to hurt me.”

I grabbed the envelope, but my attention stayed locked on her face. “Sloane. Tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s him!” Her voice wobbled as it rose. “He wants to take Ben and Tillie from me, simply because he thinks he can.”

It was disturbing how quickly murderous rage filled my lungs. “He can’t. He won’t.”

Her hand jutted toward the envelope in anger. “He’s already trying. My trust fund is nothing compared to the family money he has backing him. He is cruel and vindictive and an asshole. He’ll use that money to fight, and everything I had is now tied up in the house and the brewery.”

I scoffed. Fuck him and his family money. “You have an order of protection against him. No judge in their right mind would ever entertain the idea of giving him custody after that. He has no grounds. He would have to prove you’re an unfit mother, which you are not. You have a stable job. You care for their needs. You’re married and living with⁠—”

Her eyes flew to mine when realization hit me like a freight train. The truth expanded in my throat, cutting off my air supply.

“—with a felon.” The words were acid on my tongue. “He’s using me against you, isn’t he?”

A fresh sob racked out of her, confirming my fears.

I stood to my full height, fury radiating from every pore.

That son of a bitch. This cannot be happening.

I stared at her for one last beat before I yanked the door open.

Sloane scrambled to her feet behind me. “Abel, wait!” She had to jog to keep up with me as I stalked down the hallway, rage seeping from every pore.

She rounded me, planting her hands on my chest. “Please. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

I looked down at her precious face. My entire future—the one where Sloane and the kids were at the center of my universe—flashed before me.

There was no fucking way her piece-of-shit ex was taking that from me. I’d rather rot in prison for the rest of my life, knowing the twins were safe with her.

Red seeped into my vision at the mere thought of Sloane without her children. “Sloane, call your lawyer. Now. You can handle it your way, but I’m handling it mine.”

I moved past her and sailed out the door. The engine to my truck roared to life, and I jerked it into drive. It took no time to make my way through town and come to an abrupt halt in front of King Tattoo. I slammed my foot on the brake and threw the truck into park. I didn’t give a fuck if I got a ticket for double-parking.

A horn honked behind me, and I turned, fists clenched, and stared at the driver. His eyes went wide as he slowly drove around me.

Heat coursed through my veins—my blood thick and hot with fury. I pulled open the door and stormed into King Tattoo, disrupting the peace inside the shop. Royal’s laugh faded as he turned to me.

I stared at him. “Get your shit. I need you to have my back.” I pointed at the floor. “Right now.”

Excitement danced in Royal’s eyes. He nodded to Luna, King Tattoo’s resident piercer, and immediately followed me out of the shop. “Are we fucking someone up tonight?”

I pushed open the door, spilling late-afternoon sunlight into the shop. I made my way toward my truck. “Probably,” I ground out.

Giddy energy zipped through him as he jumped and shot a fist into the air.

“Yes,” he shouted through gritted teeth.

I glanced at my little brother as I climbed into my truck and shook my head. “Will you please calm the hell down? The last thing I need is you getting a violence boner.”

A slow grin spread across his face, and I exhaled. “I’m serious, Royal. Sloane’s ex is trying to take the kids from her. I’ve been paying Bootsy to keep tabs on him, and right now we’re going to have a conversation.”

Royal’s tattooed hands rubbed together as he geared up for what was about to unfold. I headed out of town, my mind flipping through our options. Jared was going to learn the hard way that when you fucked with a King, it was your last mistake.

My leg bounced. If things went sideways, I would have to take the fall. This wasn’t Royal’s mess, and if the worst-case scenario played out, he’d need help.

“Fuck.” My hand slammed against the steering wheel as I drove. “Whip’s working.”

“Do we need one more?” Royal asked, unlocking his phone.

I shrugged and shifted in the seat, unable to sit still. “It would help.”

Royal nodded and immediately began dialing. I looked over at him, but he stared ahead and said, “Duke.”

My head whipped to him. “A Sullivan? Are you serious?”

Royal lowered the phone. “You want help or what? He can just stand in the back and look scary, but we’re fucking doing this.”

I clenched my jaw and conceded with a firm nod.

It looked as though the Kings and Sullivans were coming together to send a message that no one fucks with us and gets away with it.