The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 203

Chapter 106-2

For ten minutes, they don’t say a word. They just sit back, drink their beers, and let the sheer, ridiculous noise of the apartment wash over them. After twelve hours of wherever they’ve been, doing whatever they’ve been doing, they seem to need to just watch us be completely, unreservedly happy.

“Look at them,” Mayhem mutters to Locke, a dark chuckle stirring in his chest as Jade tries to execute a moonwalk on polished hardwood. “They’re completely wrecked.”

“They’re safe,” Locke says softly. His gaze never leaves my face, warmer now, amused and dark enough to make my stomach do a slow, dizzying flip. “They’re here.”

“Are you learning any new moves?” I call out to him over the music, doing a ridiculous shimmy. “I’m a great teacher!”

Jade, emboldened by the audience, decides it’s time for a grand finale. “Watch this! High-impact jazz split!”

*Jade, don’t – I start, but it’s far too late.

She takes a running leap, catches her foot on the edge of the plush area rug, and goes sideways. She doesn’t hit the floor, though.

Instead, she crashes full-tilt into a giant, wooden decorative vase in the corner, sending it tipping violently into a stack of leatherbound books with a loud, catastrophic thud.

Jade freezes mid-tangle on the floor, blinking up at the ceiling in complete shock. “Oh. Oh boy. Yikes.”

The living room goes dead silent except for Wham! telling us to wake him up before he go-goes.

Mayhem sets his empty beer bottle on the side table with a quiet, deliberate clink. Locke slowly sets his down on the island.

They exchange a single, silent look.

One.

Then both men move at exactly the same time.

Before I can even process the shift in air pressure, Locke crosses the floor, stoops low, hooks a heavy arm under my knees, and scoops me clean off my feet. But he doesn’t hold me like a bride: in one swift, effortless motion, he flips me right over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

“Locke!” I squeal, my hands slapping uselessly against his broad, solid back. “Noooooo….”

“You’ve had enough,” he says calmly, his hand settling like a warm iron weight across the back of my thighs, locking me securely against him. “Your visit to Margaritaville concludes here, baby.”

“I’ve had precisely the correct amount!” I protest to his lower back.

“How many’s that, then?”

“Four! No, wait… three. No, five!”

Chapter 106.

Behind us, Jade shrieks with laughter as Mayhem performs the exact same maneuver, unspooling her from the rug and hoisting her over his shoulder with a grunt of amusement.

Clem

“This is outrageous!” Jade says, hanging upside down over Mayhem’s back, her long red hair sweeping the hardwood floor as he marches her toward the hall. “This is a violation of my civil rights! I’m divorcing you!”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Would.”

“You sound very confident, babe.”

“I am!”

I twist upside down, blood rushing to my head, and catch Jade’s eye. Hanging upside down from the hips of two massive, amused bikers, we both completely dissolve into helpless, wheezing giggles.

Locke’s hand squeezes my leg. “You two finished?”

“No,” I choke out, staring at the floor passing beneath us as he starts walking. “Not even.”

“Yeah. Didn’t think so, baby.”

Mayhem veers left, carrying a still-protesting Jade straight toward the guest room at the very end of the hall, on the other side of the penthouse from the master suite.

“Keep the noise down, Zarabug!” Mayhem calls back over his shoulder. “Some of us have to sleep!”

“Take your own advice, Mayhem!” I yell back, hanging over Locke’s shoulder as he carries me in the opposite direction. “No snoring, jerk!”

“Here we are,” Locke says as we reach the master bedroom. “Bedtime for you.”

“Hey, Locke?” I ask, my hands gripping the back pocket of his jeans as he pushes the door shut with his foot.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Totally, baby.”

“Really? No lie?”

“No lie. I’m good.”

He bends down and tosses me gently onto the massive pile of pillows. I land with a soft thud, my hair sprawling everywhere, entirely breathless.

Locke stands at the edge of the mattress, towering over me, unbuttoning his sleeves with slow, deliberate control. He unslings his shoulder holster, tossing it onto the nightstand before unbuckling his heavy leather belt.

The faint, dark smile is still on his lips, his eyes heavy and warm as he watches me wriggle around to sit up, trying to arrange the pillows like a fort.

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<Chapter 106

“You look very serious over there,” he observes softly, unlacing his heavy boots one by one and letting Them hit the rug with muffled thuds. “Why are you building a fort?”

“I’m constructing a fortress of dignity,” inform him, resting my chin on a duvet bundle and squinting at him. “You compromised my authority back there.”

“Huh?”

“What I mean is…” I fold my arms, trying to look stern and failing miserably. “I could have walked, you

know.”

“Mmm-hmmmm.”

“I absolutely could have.”

Clam

“Zara,” he says softly, leaning over the bed, placing one massive hand on either side of my waist, trapping me beneath him. “You were spinning in circles. You’re going to have a fucking brutal hangover tomorrow morning, by the way.”

“The third margarita was mostly juice, Locke. Medical science supports me.” I pause. “Or the fifth margarita?”

“The two empty tequila bottles on the island say otherwise.” He chuckles, the deep sound vibrating right down through his chest, pulling off his jeans. “I suspect that the alcohol was used to water down the juice, not the other way around.”

“Totally worth it.”

“Yeah?” he says, his fingers sliding up into my hair, holding me steady as his gaze softens into something infinitely quiet and protective. “Worth the headache and puking tomorrow?”

“Soooo worth it.”

“Well, you were fucking adorable dancing around out there,” he says. “Both of you were.”

The playful banter softens, settling into something deep, quiet, and impossibly sweet. I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down until his weight rests comfortably beside me.

Once upon a time, I thought safety meant running until my feet bled, hiding in the dark, and keeping every door locked.

It turns out safety looks a lot like icy margaritas, bad dancing, and letting the man who holds your heart carry you to bed.

Headache and puking be damned.

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