All Chapters of Cursed Kings MC Books 1-4: Chapter 251 - Chapter 260

Queenie POVThe soft haze of morning light filters through the curtains as I stir, feeling oddly refreshed despite the whirlwind of emotions from the past few days. A warm weight presses against me, and I instinctively go to stretch—only to realize I’m pinned on both sides. Someone's leg is draped possessively over mine, his body nestled close, and I can feel his breath feathering over my cheek. My eyes flutter open, meeting the sight of Caleb completely relaxed, his face free of the tension that’s gripped him lately.Before I can fully process the intimacy of the moment, I become aware of the firm arm wrapped around my waist from behind. King. His chest presses against my back, his arm securing me as if even in sleep, he refuses to let go. I’m cocooned between the two of them, surrounded by their warmth and the steady rhythm of their breaths.A soft smile tugs at my lips. Safe. That’s what this feels like—an unexpected sense of security in the chaos of our lives. But as I try to shif

King’s POVI sit on the bed, my elbows restin' on my knees, my head bowed, and I feel… hollow. The room is quiet now, too quiet. The kind of quiet that lets every thought, every regret, and every mistake creep in like unwelcome shadows. I rub my hands over my face, and the roughness of my palms is a sharp reminder of everythin' I’ve been through.I’m out. I’m free. But it doesn’t feel like freedom.The bed beneath me feels softer than I remember, too soft, like it might swallow me whole. Everythin' out here is strange. The walls don’t close in on me like they did in my cell, but somehow, they feel heavier. The space isn’t suffocatin'—it’s overwhelmin'. It’s too open, too vast. I’ve traded steel bars and cinder blocks for the world, but I don’t know how to fit back into it.I glance around the room. It’s not mine, not in any way that feels familiar. It’s Caleb’s now, filled with his things, his presence. Queenie’s touch is everywhere too—the scent of her lingerin' on the sheets, the fa

Caleb POVI don’t interrupt, even though my chest aches hearing him like this. He’s always been the strong one, the unshakable one. But now? He’s raw, exposed, and it’s gut-wrenching.“I feel like a stranger,” he continues, his hands clenching into fists on his knees. “To you. To 'er. To the kid.” His voice cracks as he gestures toward Baby Caleb, who’s now chewing on a stuffed animal. “And it kills me because I don’t know how to be the person I was before. I don’t even know if that person exists anymore.”Queenie’s hand reaches out instinctively, resting on his shoulder. “You’re still you, King,” she says, her voice trembling. “You’re still the man we love. We just have to figure this out together.”He shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “You both deserve better than some broken bastard who doesn’t even know how to live out 'ere.”“Don’t do that,” I say firmly, leaning forward. “Don’t sit there and act like you’re some kind of burden. You’re not. You’re our family, King. You always

It’s been a week since Queenie told us about the pregnancy. A week of tryin' to adjust to the idea of another kid while jugglin' the chaos of our lives. Things feel good, though; we're not tense anymore. None of us are worried about how the other will feel so now Queenie happily kisses us both.Caleb and I are taking turns with baby Caleb today while Queenie’s at work. It’s strange, sittin' here, the house too quiet except for the soft babblin' of the baby playin' with his toys on the floor.I glance over at Caleb, who’s sprawled out on the couch, scrollin' through his phone. He’s been annoyingly chill about all of this, while I can’t stop my brain from runnin' through worst-case scenarios.“You ever think about how different our lives were a year ago?” I ask, leanin' back in my chair.Caleb looks up, raisin' a brow. “What, before the club went to shit, you got locked up, and I got pulled into this mess? Yeah, I think about it sometimes.”I smirk at his sarcasm. “I mean, look at us no

Queenie’s POVThe end of the workday couldn’t come fast enough. I step outside, shivering as the cool air nips at my skin. My eyes scan the parking lot, but there’s no sign of King’s bike or Caleb’s. My brows furrow in confusion. They said they’d pick me up—didn’t they?I wait a few minutes, pacing slightly, trying to keep warm. Pulling out my phone, I dial Caleb first. No answer. I try King next, but it goes straight to voicemail. A frustrated sigh escapes me, and I glance up and down the street. No way am I waiting. I begin walking, deciding it will be quicker than waiting if they have totally forgotten me.The walk home feels longer than it should. My feet ache from a long shift, and the chill in the air creeps through my jacket. I forgot my purse at home this morning, so no money for a taxi or bus. Just me and the quiet streets.The faint sound of an engine behind me draws my attention. I glance back, squinting under the dim glow of a streetlamp. A patrol car slows, rolling up bes