CHAPTER 8
THE KRAIT PRINCE
Loraine’s kitchen smelled like roasted chicken and buttered vegetables, the kind of meal that made everything feel normal if you didn’t look too closely.
“I’m done, Grandma,” Kyle announced, sliding his plate forward.
Loraine stood and grabbed it. “Alright, sweetheart.”
Kolton scooped his son up. “I’m gonna take him home. You get to ride on the bike today, little man.”
Kyle’s face lit up. “Is Kait coming?”
Kolton smiled, already moving toward the sink. “All three of us won’t fit on the bike. Let’s wash you up and go.”
“Gramma is the pool open?”
“Soon, baby.”
Kait rose from her chair, grabbing her jacket. “I guess I can make my way back to the Nest. Dinner was delicious, as usual.”
Loraine hugged her tight. “I thought I was going to do that reading for you tonight.”
“Shit—that’s right.” Kait laughed softly. “Raincheck? I’m beat. And stuffed.”
“Next time, for sure,” Loraine said, wagging a finger.
Kait rode back alone.
The Nest was quiet when she got there. She showered, letting the heat loosen the knot between her shoulders. When she shut the water off, she caught her reflection—and then him.
Kolton leaned against the doorway.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Loving the shit out of the view,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping her in a towel.
“You’re not bored of me yet?”
“Fuck no. I’m crazier about you every day.”
He stepped closer, hands sliding around her waist, lips brushing her shoulder. She didn’t pull away — but she didn’t lean in either. He kissed her.
“Not right now,” she said as he tried to pull her toward the bed.
He smirked. “Did I miss you playing with yourself in the shower or something?”
“No. Just tired.”
Kolton stopped.
“What?”
“Long day.”
That’s when it hit — the edge in him sharpening too fast.
“So what, you just don’t feel like it?” he snapped.
She blinked at him. “I just told you.”
He laughed, short and humorless.
She wrapped the towel around herself, eyes narrowing. “Are you having an issue with this?”
His irritation flared instantly, exaggerated, misplaced. “Yeah. It’s been like three days, and suddenly I’m—”
“Turned down?” she finished. “So?”
“You fucking someone else?”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Are you?” His voice jumped, sharp and ugly.
“You shitting me right now? What the fuck is this?”
He ran a hand through his hair, agitation buzzing under his skin.
“You’re really asking me that?”
He exhaled and snapped out of it. “Shit, babe, I wasn’t trying to—”
“Then don’t,” she said. Calm. Final.
Silence stretched. The coke edge burned off just enough for embarrassment to creep in.
Kait put on her pajama pants and tank top and got in bed.
“Hey,” he said, softer now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”
She met his eyes, unreadable.
He stepped closer again, slower this time. “I just… miss you.”
She studied him for a beat, then nodded once. “Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m a snakehole, Kolton.”
He kissed her forehead, careful now. “No, I… I said I’m sorry.”
“I’m going to bed,” she said after a pause.
“Kait… wait, are you mad?”
“Not as long as you remember that.”
“Fine. Just don’t be mad.”
“Goodnight,” she said and turned to her side.
By morning, the silence felt heavier than the argument and they didn’t talk all day.
THE DIRTY ALLEY
The Dirty Alley’s back hallway smelled like bleach and stale smoke, the kind of in-between space customers never saw. Kait was doing a quick check of the private rooms before heading back out front when a man in a suit stepped out of one of the doors and nearly ran into her.
He passed her, then stopped.
“Excuse me?” he said, turning back.
She looked at him. A tall and skinny guy in his mid to late twenties, all elbows and long lines, the kind of build that looked awkward until it didn’t. Same frame as Kode, just cleaner. Jacket a little too neat for the Alley. He didn’t look either dangerous or stupid.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry—do you work here?”
She scoffed. “Yeah, but not the way you think.”
He blinked, caught, then recovered quickly. “No offense meant.”
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a business card, holding it out instead of pushing it into her space. “My name’s Jason. I’m a journalist and photographer. Dryden Pulse.”
She took the card, glanced at it. “Yeah. That’s what it says.”
“You model by any chance?”
She laughed once, short. “No. Do I look like a model to you?”
“Respectfully?” he said. “You look better than most of the models I’ve photographed.”
“Right.”
“I mean it. Your eyes and bone structure are, insane.”
“Well, I’m not …” She shook her head and started to step past him.
“Listen,” he said quickly, not touching her. “I’m not trying to be a weirdo. I’d just like to photograph you sometime. It wouldn’t be for anything commercial. It’s for personal use.”
She stopped and turned back, reaching for her knife. “All right, asshole—”
His hands came up immediately. “No—shit. That’s not what I meant. That came out wrong.”
She stared at him long enough to make the point land.
“Exit is that way,” she said point past his shoulder and turning away again.
“It’s for my portfolio. I’ll pay you well,” he said, louder now, testing the line.
She stopped, didn’t turn. “How much?”
“Three grand,” he said, then visibly braced.
She kept walking.
“Five,” he added. Then winced to himself.
She reached the door, finally looked back. “I’ll let you know.”
She slipped the card into her back pocket and pushed through, leaving him standing there in the hallway, recalibrating.
Up front, 18 and Life kicked in hard — Sunshine’s cue.
Kait squared her shoulders and went back to work.
THE nest
Kolton sat alone in the Nest kitchen, chair tipped back on two legs, phone balanced on his thigh. The house was too quiet for the hour. Barely midnight. Tomorrow by Silverchair murmured somewhere down the hall. Diablo must have forgotten his CD in the stereo.
The mirror on the table caught his reflection—jaw tight, eyes restless. There was a folded dollar bill beside the ashtray. Empty baggie under it. Nothing left but the idea.
He picked up the phone and dialed before he could think better of it.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then—
“Yeah,” Lane said. No greeting. No warmth. Just there.
Kolton smiled despite himself. “Well, shit. You actually picked up.”
A pause. Wind on the other end. Distant traffic. “It’s late.”
“Yeah, well. You always were a night owl.” Kolton leaned back, eyes on the ceiling. “How’s Huntsville?”
“Busy.”
“Figures.” He snorted. “Don won’t shut up about you. You’re cleaning house, new spot lined up, everything running clean. You’re making him real proud.”
Lane didn’t bite. “What do you want, Kolton?”
Kolton rolled the folded bill between his fingers. Slower now. “Can’t I just call?”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“You don’t ever just call. So spit it out.”
Kolton laughed, sharp. “Well…”
Silence.
He sighed and gave in a little. “Shit’s just… loud here.”
“How so.”
“Kait’s switching up on me,” he said, too fast. “Like she’s so fucking busy all of the sudden. She works at the D.A. now, like—”
“Wait, what?”
“Not dancing or anything but she works there, helps out the girls, does security and shit. And she’s been learning how to take care of the Judge. Like she doesn’t want to spend any time. We haven’t fucked in like a week.”
A pause.
Then Lane: “I don’t need to know that, Kol.”
Kolton didn’t care. “And Don—” He shook his head. “Don’s on my ass about money, about optics, about how everything reflects back on him.”
“You’re his son and Krait MC,” Lane said, flat. “Of course it does.”
Kolton grimaced. “Yeah, well. Doesn’t feel like it counts for much lately.”
His nose burned. He sniffed, quick, annoyed at himself.
The bill stopped moving. His leg bounced instead.
“You holding?” Lane asked.
Kolton froze. Just for a beat.
“…No.”
Another beat. Lane exhaled. Not disappointed. Not angry. Just aware.
“Good,” he said. “Then don’t start.”
Kolton stared at the tabletop, jaw flexing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not here.”
“Soon enough,” Lane said.
Kolton swallowed. The itch crawled higher.
“Yeah? When? You gotta get Dad off my back.”
Silence settled again. Not awkward. Heavy. Familiar.
Lane broke it. “You eat?”
Kolton glanced at the cold plate on the counter. “Earlier.”
“Been sleeping?”
“Meh. Not much.”
Another pause.
“Well, shit’s running smooth here,” Lane said. “We should be coming home soon.”
Kolton nodded. “Cool, that’s awesome—”
“He ain’t wrong, you know.”
Kolton scoffed, bouncing the rolled dollar bill against the mirror. “Of course you’d side with him.”
“It’s not about sides. You should start paying more attention to the club instead of your girlfriend. Maybe he figured the honeymoon would be over by now and you’d start doing more.”
Kolton scoffed. “I do plenty. Speaking of girlfriends. Melanie has been pretty fucking depressed since you left.”
“Oh well.” Lane didn’t rise to it. “Do us both a favor and don’t piss off Don. Just take care of business.”
“I am, I swear.”
“All right, well… I’m gonna let you go so I can have yet another talk with Barry.”
“’Kay. Later.”
The line went dead.
Kolton stayed where he was, phone still warm in his hand. The folded bill bounced harder now, irritation flaring where relief should’ve been.
He stared at the mirror again.
Alone.
The Nest stayed quiet after the call.
Kolton didn’t turn the radio back on. He sat there longer than he meant to, chair tipped, bill bouncing once, twice, then stopping. Midnight slid past unnoticed. The house never shifted into sleep the way it usually did.
He checked the clock. Then the hallway.
Nothing.
He stood, paced once, then twice. Opened the fridge without being hungry. Closed it. The kitchen light buzzed faintly overhead. Alejandra came in and asked if he needed anything before she went to bed.
By one, he was still waiting for Kait to come back and hopefully make up.
By two, he knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Kait didn’t go back to the Nest.
Loraine’s was already at the door when she pulled up, like she’d been expecting her. The house smelled like chamomile, and something baked earlier that evening, the warmth settling around her before she even shut the door.
Loraine looked up from the kitchen table. Took one look at Kait’s face and nodded.
“You okay?”
“I will be.”
Loraine set the mug down, already reaching for another. “Don’s been knocked out for a couple of hours already. We can talk if you want.”
“I’d rather sleep.”
“Yeah,” Loraine said with a warm smile. “Sometimes the quiet is better. Guest room’s ready.”
Kait exhaled. Not relief. Permission.
She accepted the tea without comment and followed Loraine down the hall. No questions. No tarot cards. No warnings.
Just quiet.
Then she went to the guest room and let herself fall on the bed. On top of the fresh sheets, fully dressed.
She looked up at the ceiling and thought about her day until the tea kicked in.
NEXT morning
Snake Eyes was already awake when Loraine pulled in, neon still humming even though the sun had started bleaching the street. Raymundo was at the counter, jacket half on, graveyard log closed, keys in hand.
Kode was in his office already, door open, three monitors glowing, wires everywhere. He didn’t look up.
Ray glanced up when the front door opened.
Saw Loraine.
Relaxed.
Then he saw Kait.
His brain stalled.
“Oh—uh—” He straightened too fast, knocking his coffee cup into the trash. “Morning, Loraine. And Ms. Uh…”
“Kait,” she said casually.
Loraine set her purse down like nothing was different. “You good, Mundo?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He nodded too much, eyes flicking back to Kait and away again. “Uh—so—you’re… you’re her.”
Kait met his eyes. Calm. Neutral. “I am, her.”
Mundo swallowed. “Right. Right. Uh. Mundo.” He gestured at himself pointing a finger at himself like she might not know. “I work graveyard.”
“Mundo?” Loraine said softly but he was only staring at Kait.
“Was it busy last night?” asked Kait helping him out with Loraine.
He snapped out of it. “No, actually. Phones were quiet. No weird calls. No… you know.” He waved a hand vaguely at the building, at life.
Loraine slid behind the counter. “Logbook.”
He pushed it toward her, hands a little unsteady. “Everything’s in there. Times, names, uh—notes.” He hesitated, then added, “Everyone’s been… talking.”
Kode finally leaned back in his chair, smirking without looking up. “You’re doing great, Mundo.”
Mundo shot him a look. “Shut up.”
Kode nodded at Kait. “What’s up, Toast?
“’Sup.” She nodded back.
“Okay, Mundo, I got it. Go get some rest,” said Loraine graciously.
Ray stood a little straighter, shoulders back like an old habit kicked in. “Thank you. I mean—yeah. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go home now.”
“Do that,” Loraine said, already scanning the log.
Mundo grabbed his keys, paused at the door, then glanced back at Kait. “Uh—nice to meet you.”
She nodded again. “You too, Mundo.”
“You ladies have a good day,” Mundo left fast, old LA Gears hitting the sidewalk with purpose.
Kode laughed under his breath.
Business resumed.
The phone rang at Snake Eyes just after nine.
Loraine answered it on the second ring. “Snake Eyes Bail Bonds, this is Loraine.”
A pause.
Her posture shifted. Not alarmed. Focused.
“Lee, slow down,” she said. “What? Is he okay?”
Another pause. “Oh my god.”
Shorter. “All right. I’m on my way.”
She hung up and didn’t move for a second.
Kait was already watching her.
“Kyle fell, broke his arm, they took him to the hospital” Loraine said. “Cody, get ahold of Kolton, right now.”
Kait raised her eyebrows. No questions.
They were on the road within seconds— Loraine in her car and Kait following closely on the Kriger.
dryden community clinic
LeeAnn was already there.
Pacing. Twitchy. Eyes wide open, jaw grinding like she was chewing on something invisible. She was arguing with Kolton in hushed, frantic bursts, hands flying, words tumbling over each other.
“It was an accident,” she said for the third time. “Kids fall. You know that.”
Kolton stood stiff in front of her, arms crossed, forcing his voice low. “He didn’t fall down a staircase, LeeAnn. He fell on a playground.”
“You weren’t there,” she snapped. “Kyle gets wild. You know that. He climbs on stuff, jumps off stuff—he plays rough. Like all little boys do.”
Kolton’s head lifted slowly. “He has old bruises. A specific kind.”
LeeAnn’s eyes wandered fast in all directions thinking of a million lies to make up.
“Are you going overboard with his whoopings?”
“It’s discipline,” she corrected too fast. “Kids need it. You wouldn’t understand—you’re never around.” She waved a hand. “It wasn’t for Luis—”
Kait and Loraine stopped a few feet back. Loraine didn’t step in. Not yet.
Kolton exhaled through his nose. “You bring Luis around my son?”
LeeAnn scoffed, crossing her arms. “He helps me with Kyle more than you think. You know how Kyle never listens to me.”
Kolton’s voice dropped. “You let Luis put hands on my son?”
“Kyle can be a brat sometimes,” she shot back. “He doesn’t listen. Luis just—he helps. He’s been stepping up. Being a father. A real one.”
Her eyes flicked sharp. “Not just a weekend playdate like he has with you.”
The words landed wrong. Heavy. Final.
Kolton stepped back like the air had been knocked out of him.
When he spoke again, his voice was flat—controlled.
The kind of calm that comes right before something breaks.
“Is he at the house?”
LeeAnn’s face crumpled. “Kolton, don’t. He was just trying to teach him a lesson.”
He leaned in, close enough that only she could hear him. “Where is he, LeeAnn? I swear to God—”
Kait watched as Kolton grabbed Lee’s arm hard.
“Kolton,” Loraine said firmly, stepping in now. “Enough.”
Kolton straightened. He let go. His hands were shaking.
He looked past Lee, already somewhere else. Already hunting.
“I guess I’m gonna have to find him myself,” he said.
Lee didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Kolton turned and walked out.
“Kait, please,” begged Loraine.
“I got him.”
Kolton pushed through the ER doors and didn’t slow down.
The heat hit him hard. He crossed the lot with his keys already in his hand, jaw clenched, eyes locked straight ahead.
“Kolton—” Kait called.
He spun on her.
“Oh,” he said quietly. “There you are.”
Kait slowed behind him. Gave him space.
He let out a breath that almost passed for a laugh. “Been looking for you. Glad to see you’re okay.”
She stayed calm. “We just needed some space.”
He looked at her then. Not angry.
Hurt.
Worse.
“Six years wasn’t enough?” he said.
Her jaw tightened.
“You don’t say anything. You don’t come home. You don’t answer.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter. Like it absolutely did. “Just like last time.”
“That’s not fair,” she said evenly.
“Felt the same fucking way,” he shot back.
She stepped closer, voice steady. “This isn’t the time or the place. Where are you going?”
He turned fully now, helmet in his hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s personal.”
The engine fired up — loud, abrupt.
Kait raised her voice just enough to cut through it. “Whatever you’re about to do—”
“—has nothing to do with you,” he cut in, not raising his voice. “So go ahead. Go back to wherever you spent the night.”
He revved the bike once, sharp.
For a moment, Kait almost took his advice.
Then he kicked the stand up and rolled forward.
She sighed.
Pulled on her helmet.
And followed him anyway.
Brews N’ Crews didn’t announce them.
Kolton shoved through the door like it owed him something.
The room barely shifted. Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound kept playing. Glasses clinked. Chugs looked up and immediately knew this wasn’t a social call.
Luis was easy to spot.
Wrong posture. Wrong confidence. Leaned too far into his stool like he belonged there. Laughing too loud at something Mitch said, one arm draped careless over the bar.
Kolton saw red.
“Hey!” Called out Chugs.
Kolton didn’t speak. Didn’t point. Didn’t hesitate.
He crossed the room in five strides and grabbed Luis by the collar, yanking him off the stool so hard the legs scraped and tipped.
“Fuck—” Luis blurted.
Kolton’s fist connected with his mouth mid-sentence.
Luis went down hard, shoulder first, then his head bounced off the floor with a dull crack that cut through the music.
Everything stopped.
Kolton was on him instantly.
Punch.
Punch.
Punch.
Luis screamed, tried to cover up, hands flailing uselessly.
The bar erupted.
A chair scraped back hard.
“HEY!” Chugs roared again—and this time it carried.
Kolton didn’t hear him.
He hauled Luis up by the shirt and drove him back down, fist splitting skin, blood slicking the floor.
That’s when the sound changed.
Not shouting.
Metal.
Chugs ducked behind the bar and came up with a shotgun, racking it once—CH-CHK—the sound cutting through the room like a blade.
“That’s it,” he barked. “Prince. Enough!”
Kolton froze mid-swing.
At the same time, two Chrome Union patches moved. Durst and Murphy.
Fast.
That’s when Kait stepped in.
She drew.
Clean. Immediate. No warning.
Her gun came up and locked on Chugs.
Not wavering. Not high. Right where it needed to be.
The room inhaled as one.
The Chrome Union guys reacted on instinct.
Both of them pivoted and cleared leather in the same breath, guns snapping up and leveling straight at Kait.
“HEY—” one of them barked. “DROP IT!”
Kait didn’t flinch.
Shotgun steady. Eyes hard. Locked on Kait now, not Kolton.
“You outta your fucking mind?” Chugs said looking at Kait.
Kait didn’t look at Durst and Murphy.
Didn’t look at the room.
She kept her sights on Chugs.
“Let him,” Kait said.
Her voice didn’t rise. It didn’t shake.
“He deserves it. He’s been hurting his son.”
The words hit harder than the shotgun rack ever could.
Luis let out a broken sound on the floor.
Kolton’s fist hung in the air for a second longer.
Then his shoulders sagged.
The fight drained out of him all at once, leaving only breath and ache and the sudden weight of what he’d done.
He stepped back.
Spat on Luis.
“You touch my kid again, I will fucking kill you, motherfucker,” he muttered.
And then—
He hissed.
Kait acknowledged it.
Kolton wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, chest heaving. “Let’s go,” he said, already turning. “I’m done anyway.”
Kait didn’t lower the gun until he moved.
Only then did she back with him toward the door, eyes never leaving Chugs.
The Chrome Union patches held their aim until the door swung open.
As Kolton crossed the threshold, Chugs spoke.
Low. Flat.
“Don’s gonna hear about this.”
Kolton simply shrugged and put his arms up as he exited the bar.
Durst and Murphy went back to their table and finished their beer. They needed to go back and report what just happened to their table.
Mitch slid off his stool and crouched near Luis, squinting at the blood pooling on the floor.
He whistled low.
“Boy,” Mitch said, shaking his head, “you’re leakin’ like a water tower welded by a guy named Earl who quit at lunch.”
Luis whimpered.
outside
Engines tore out of Brews N’ Crews and cut through town hard, midday traffic scattering as Kolton pushed The Mare faster than he should’ve. Kait stayed on him, close enough to feel the tension rolling off him, far enough to know better than to press.
The Nest came up fast in the afternoon light.
Kolton killed the engine and was off the bike before it fully settled. Kait pulled her helmet free, already stepping toward him—
The front door opened.
Klaus stepped out.
Daylight caught him full-on. No shadow. No drama. Just finality.
He took in Kolton’s face, the blood dried at the knuckles, the way his shoulders were still set for impact. Then he looked at Kait.
“You,” he said calmly. “Stay out here.”
Kait stopped.
Klaus didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t explain. He turned to Kolton.
“You, chapel.”
Kait stood there in the open daylight, helmet hanging from her fingers, the afternoon suddenly too quiet. Klaus crossed his arms and sighed still staring at Kait.
Inside, Kolton didn’t go straight to the chapel.
He went past Klaus and went through the double doors into the clubhouse first.
Bathroom.
Harsh fluorescent light. Mirror spider-cracked at the edge. He moved on instinct now — folded bill, counter, a line laid quick and clean. No ceremony. No hesitation.
He leaned in.
Didn’t enjoy it.
Didn’t relax.
Just fed the itch long enough to stand upright.
Kolton rinsed his hands, wiped his nose, stared at himself for half a second too long.
He nodded a few times, took a deep breath, and then headed out to the chapel.
