Loyalty Pawn #2 Novels & Stories

“It is. Your uncle Ronan makes cars.” She gasped and swiveled around, her mouth wide open. “Really? Did bad uncle make this one?” I nodded. This one was the newest limited edition RT 2m5 of Throne automotive. How did I know? Well, Julius indeed followed up with his brother’s life more than anything else. “So cool.” She returned her attention to the portrait and the one next to it, observing them keenly. She stood on her tiptoe and lifted her tiny hand to touch the first portrait. But before her fingers could feel them, Naomi’s hands gently caught hers.

Keith, the man with the buzz cut who had just molested me, chimed in, "We play with cash only. We don't accept mobile payments. If you help him settle his debt, he won't have to spend a dime and can win it back later. Doesn't it sound like a good deal?" Ernest nodded repeatedly. "Exactly. These are my childhood friends. It won't cost you anything to let them cop a feel. I can win the money back anyway. Don't make such a big deal out of this." As soon as his words fell, the other two guys extended their hands as well. "That's right, Bianca. Ernest owes us some money, too. Let us have a feel, and we'll call it even." Before I could respond, both of their hands were already on my thighs. In all

Liam Conall is a slippery man and I wonder how no one has ever found him for years now. The pawn shop looms ahead, a small store wedged between a perpetually closed dry cleaner and a neon-lit nail salon. The windows are caked with dust, obscuring the treasures—or junk—within. I push open the door, a bell jingling weakly above my head. I brace myself for the unexpected. A discreet drug chain? Armed men? Anything.

came a low voice from behind me. I turned to see Ronan, his tall frame leaning against a pillar near the entrance. He’d been loyal to my mother, and though his methods were unconventional, his skills were invaluable. I’d reached out to him in secret—no one else could know that I was planning to make a move. “Ronan,” I said with a small nod, my tone cool but respectful. “I need information.” Ronan’s lips curved into a sly smile as he stepped forward. “What kind of information are we talking about? The kind that gets you what you want, or the kind that might end up getting you killed?”

"There's Lust inside him?" Lilith's gaze hardened, "Don't look at me. I'm not the one fucking him. I just want to get mom back." she brushed past me, nudging my shoulders. I watched her leave with nothing but concern in my mind. How the fuck did that happen? Was that what he wasn't telling me? "No, that's not possible. We've been apart too long for Lust to remain inside him-" Lucian grabbed my shoulder with a grin, "Brother. It seems you underestimated yourself around a mate. Wait till you hear about your kid. Congratulations by the way."

A hired soldier, not a leader. “Pawn,” Sean said quietly. He stood and moved on. Near the back wall, a row of metal lockers leaned against cracked concrete. Most were blown open, doors bent outward, scorched black. He walked past them slowly, his instincts pulling him toward the last locker at the end. It looked damaged from the outside. Burn marks. Dents. But something about it stood out. The lock was broken. Not melted. Broken on purpose. Sean pulled it open. Inside, hidden behind a false metal panel, was a small black data chip. Perfectly intact. No heat damage. No scratches.

It's the kind of neighborhood where people mind their own business and ask few questions. Perfect for someone trying to stay invisible. I park across the street from Murphy's Pawn & Loan, a cramped storefront wedged between a laundromat and a corner market. Through the grimy window, I can see shelves lined with guitars, jewelry, electronics—the remnants of other people's desperate moments. And standing at the counter, his back to me, is Knoxx. Something in my chest tightens. I unbuckle Liam and take his hand. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go see Daddy Knoxx."

My hands tremble as I approach him. He doesn’t look at me. Just shifts slightly. “There should be a keepsake, there, behind the tapestry.” he murmurs. “For morale.” I find it where he wanted me to, a scrap of velvet. Black, gold threaded. The Velvet Coil insignia, impossible, unmistakable. Etched into the metal beneath it, nearly invisible: WATCH THE VOWS. TRUST THE FIRE. SHE IS LYING ABOUT THE GATE. My breath catches. **********

I carve a single word into the brick behind them with my knife. “Loyalty.” Not in blood. Not this time. But the message is still clear. The Queen doesn’t need to get her hands dirty. Because the man who loves her will do it for her. I wash up in the hall bathroom. My knuckles are raw. Blood under my nails. I don’t feel guilt. Not even a little. But I do feel centered. Like I’ve done something that matters. When I come back to her room, she’s awake. Sitting up. Eyes tired. Hair a mess.

He had been working as an escort at a nightclub, leeching off a wealthy older woman and clinging to her without a shred of dignity while pouring drinks and playing the perfect companion. There was no way Melanie would be interested in someone like that. Our confrontation quickly drew the attention of the entire office. Employees gathered around, pointing and gossiping among themselves. Someone asked, "Who's that guy? He's got some nerve talking back to Mr. Young like that." "No idea. Does he even work here? I've never seen him before." Another chimed in, "I think that's the legendary top seller, Kieran Campbell. He's the one who's never around."