by Chelle Bliss
“I’m a grown woman now. I know right from wrong, and I know how to take care of myself. I knew you and Dad would flip your shit if you knew where I was going. I had to see a guy about a thing.”
“A guy about a thing?” she asks, breathing heavier now with her voice lower and somehow scarier. “What the hell is a thing?”
“I can’t believe Gigi ratted me out,” I groan.
“She didn’t. Pike told your father.”
That freakin’ tattletale asshole. I figured Austin or Lily would open their big fat mouths way before Pike ever sang like a canary to my father about my whereabouts. “He’s an asshole.”
“He’s concerned and acted like an adult, which is more than I can say for you,” she rants. “He was concerned that you took off, and he didn’t know where you went. I had to call James to track your ass down. Imagine my shock when he found you hiding out at the Disciples’ compound.”
I fall back onto the bed, figuring this isn’t going to be a quick or easy phone call. Maxine Gallo is just gearing up, and once she gets started, there is no stopping her until she is good and ready.
I stare up at the ceiling, memorizing the cracks in the paint, trying to ignore my mother’s tirade. “They’re nice people, Mom. They’re not criminals,” I argue when she finally stops long enough to take a breath.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“I do.” I close my eyes, throwing my arm over my face, wishing I could hide. I’ve never had a problem with confrontation when it comes to anybody but my parents. They’re my weakness, especially my father.
My mother scares the hell out of me, but my father, I never want to see disappointment in his eyes.
“Now, back to the thing. Are you doing drugs?”
“What? No,” I blurt out. “I’ve never done drugs, Mom. You know this.”
We’ve had long conversations about drugs and the dangers. So long, I thought my ears would bleed from listening to her go on and on about the long-term effects and damage they could do to my body. I got the message, and to avoid any further “long talks,” I avoided drugs throughout high school and college because of her.
She grunts, and I can picture her shaking her head, stalking around the kitchen as she paces the same path over and over again. “I also never thought my daughter was the type who would run away and hide out at a biker compound either.”
“Run away?” I laugh into the crook of my arm. “I’m twenty-one, and I don’t even live at home anymore. How can I run away?”
“You may think you’re grown, little girl, but I gave you life, and I can take it away too,” she warns, giving me the same old spiel she has given me since the first time I challenged her authority.
It’s such a mom line, and it’s hilarious.
I bite down on my lip, trying to quiet my laughter. “You can’t ground me, Mom.”
“Your father’s so pissed, he can’t even talk to you right now. You’re going to wish for a grounding when you come back. That would be merciful, and we’re not feeling so generous.”
Well, damn. My laughter dies when I know my father’s disappointed. “I’m sorry.”
I thought he’d understand. Hell, at my age, he was so much wilder.
“I’m grabbing Nita and Malia, and we’re coming to get you.”
“Like fuck you are!” Dad yells in the background, causing my mom to growl into the receiver. “James and I are going to get her as soon as we’re allowed.”
“Allowed?” she asks him.
I cringe because the real shit hasn’t even hit the fan. She doesn’t know about the lockdown.
Lucky me.
“They’re on fucking lockdown!” Dad howls. “Fucking lockdown and my kid’s there, waiting for her ass to get shot. She better hope she lives, or else I’m going to…” He keeps talking, but I can’t understand what he’s saying because my mom covers the phone.
If my dad weren’t so pissed, I’d laugh again. If I died, what would he do then? He couldn’t spank me or send me to my room to think about my shittastic behavior. But then, I’d be dead, and I could never imagine my parents getting over my loss.
“Tell him I’m safe. I’m not in any danger,” I say softly, trying to calm everyone down.
“She said she’s safe and not in danger,” my mother repeats, no doubt rolling her eyes as she delivers the message to my dad.
“Is she fucking out of her mind?” Is his response. “She’s at the same place Gigi was when men with guns came blazing in, shooting up the place. Oh, don’t worry, Dad. I’m safe,” he says sarcastically, “What a bunch of horseshit. Turn your goddamn phone on, Tamara. You’re not sixteen, hiding out at Blake’s house. You’re in real danger, and I’d like to know you’re okay without having to go through a biker to find out if you’re still breathing.”
I shuffle off the bed and fish my phone out of my purse. “I’m turning it on now,” I tell them, feeling like shit. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s on now, baby,” she relays my message, adding the baby, probably trying to calm down the raging inferno that is Anthony Gallo.
As soon as my phone starts up, a litany of over one hundred messages, twenty missed calls, and ten voice mails fills the screen.
“Next time I call, she better goddamn answer it,” Dad barks, and I flinch, having never heard him so pissed off in all my life.
“I will.” I swipe away the notifications immediately.
“She will,” Mom repeats. “If she knows what’s good for her.”
“I’ll text her when we’re on our way,” Dad says in a little bit calmer tone. I mean, he’s still pissed. I can hear it in his voice, but he’s not yelling anymore.
“Mammoth is going to bring me home,” I say, thinking I’m being helpful. It’s a long drive, and Dad and Uncle James are busy men with better things to do than to come and pick me up.
“Oh lawd,” Mom mutters. “I can’t with this one. You talk to her. I can’t deal with her bullshit.”
“What did you say?” my dad asks after my mother obviously hands over the phone to him.
“Daddy, I just said I have a ride. There’s no need to drive this far for nothing.” I wince, waiting for the blowback because there’s always blowback when my dad’s pissed.
“Crow’s bringing you back?”
I scrunch my face as soon as the asshole’s name is mentioned. Man, Pike told my parents everything. “Not Crow. He’s a jerk, and he isn’t even here anyway. He’s off doing…” I pause, realizing I don’t know what the hell any of the men do during a lockdown. “Whatever he does.”
“Wait, you aren’t there with him?” I can hear the shock in his voice. “I thought at least he was there protecting you.”
I shake my head like Dad can see me. “He wasn’t happy when I showed up here and has been the biggest asshole in the world to me. He’s out on patrol or whatever he does during lockdowns.”
“You’re there alone?” He sucks in a quick breath and then starts to hyperventilate. “We’ll be there in three hours,” he tells me like it’s that easy and I’m in need of a rescue.
“I’m not alone, Daddy.” I throw the Daddy in there again, trying to butter him up and calm him down. “They have a guy assigned to me for my protection, and when this is all over, he’ll bring me home too.”
I expect an immediate response, but there’s only silence. Well, in reality, there’s his heavy breathing as he lets the information settle.
“Okay?” I ask when he doesn’t reply after a few more seconds.
“Who’s protecting you?”
“Mammoth.”
“What’s his real name?”
“I don’t know. He’s just Mammoth here, and I didn’t ask him for identification.”
“Have kids, they said,” he mutters. “It’ll be fun. Biggest fuckin’ lie of my life.”
“I love you.” I know those three words usually melt Anthony Gallo into someone a little more agreeable.
“I’ll text you as soon as James run
s a background check on Mammoth and let you know if he’s allowed to bring you home.”
“Allowed?” I chuckle. He’s so cute sometimes. “I’m not fifteen, Dad. And Mammoth’s a solid guy.” Like so solid, you could bounce a penny off his abs, but I leave that little bit out. “He’s not what you’d think he’d be like from looking at him. You’d probably even like him if you ever met him.”
“If I allow him to drive you back, I expect to meet him. But first, I’m going to have James do some digging. Keep your phone on, and I’ll text you. Don’t leave the compound without texting me first. Don’t head home until I give you the go-ahead.”
“I’ll let you know when we’re leaving,” I tell him because I’m not going to wait for the go-ahead to do anything. Not at twenty-one years old…that much is for fucking sure.
“Tamara.”
“Daddy.”
“If I text you, for the love of God, text me back so I don’t start to panic, thinking you’re dead.”
“Start?” I ask, teasing him a little.
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“I learned from the best.” I smile, loving my dad and mom so much, even if they’re overprotective weirdos sometimes.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“You’ve been saying that for nine years.”
“Fuckin’ kids.”
“Tamara,” Mammoth says on the other side of the door, giving me a warning knock.
“I got to go. I promise I’ll leave my phone on. Try to relax. Just know I’m safe.”
“I love you, baby,” he says, talking so softly, I know he’s finally calming down. At least for now, he is almost normal, but my dad’s emotions are like a tide. But instead of being driven by the moon, his are steered by my mother.
“I love you too, Dad. Talk soon,” I say and tap the screen, ending the call before Mammoth comes inside.
The door creaks open, and Mammoth peeks his head through the opening, surveying the room. “I heard voices,” he says, eyes darting around like he thinks someone’s hiding in here with me.
I hold out the phone as proof that he wasn’t hearing things and I most definitely do not have company. “My parents tracked me down and chewed my ass out for being here.”
The door closes, and a moment later, Mammoth is in front of me. “Can’t blame a guy.” He places his palm against my cheek, stroking my skin with his thumb. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you pull the shit you did.”
I stare into his smoky eyes. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You wouldn’t let me?” I somehow hold in my laughter because he’s freaking serious.
His lips don’t even twitch as he says, “I’d take you across my knee and spank that pretty little ass of yours.”
My eyes widen. “You’d…do that?” I swallow hard, suddenly unable to breathe.
Then he smirks. “Want to test me?”
I slap his chest, snorting. “I thought you were totally serious. Jesus.”
“I was.” He winks.
I gape at his handsome, rugged face. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not yours, then.”
“Imagine what fun we could have, princess. Your need to cause trouble would have my palm working overtime.”
“You’re still fucking with me.”
“Still fuckin’ cute,” he whispers before his lips are on mine, pushing me back into the mattress and giving me a night to remember.
7
Mammoth
Tamara stares up at me, head on my chest. “So, what’s your real name?”
I stroke the soft, golden skin on her shoulder, loving the way her skin feels against my body. “JD.”
“JD what?”
“JD Saint.”
She lifts up on one elbow, hovering above me. “Mr. Saint?” She laughs.
“That’s me, princess.”
“And the JD?”
I shake my head because no one but my birth parents, the army, and the people in the hometown I left behind know what the initials stand for. “Mammoth,” I reply.
She rolls her eyes and slaps my chest playfully. “JD does not stand for Mammoth.”
“Try me.” I pull her back down into the crook of my arm when she rolls her eyes again. “You know my last name, which is more than most people do.”
“So, I’m kind of special?”
“Yo, Mammoth!” Ginger yells, pounding on the bedroom door so loudly, Tamara jolts against my body.
I kiss her forehead before rolling out of bed and grabbing my T-shirt off the floor. Her eyes are on me, never leaving my flesh as I yank on my pants and move toward the door. I turn, raising an eyebrow when I see she’s frozen, sitting up, breasts exposed.
“Cover those up.” My gaze dips to her bare chest. “Unless you want Ginger to get an eyeful and you to get a red ass later.”
Her face flushes as she giggles, lifting the sheet over her chest, hiding her body. “Red ass,” she whispers, thinking I’m kidding.
I crack the door to Ginger, who’s leaning against the wall opposite with his arms crossed. “Tiny called. They’re meeting with the Vipers in the morning, trying to work out a deal without bloodshed. So, either shit’s about to get real in a hurry, or we’ll be out of lockdown tomorrow night.”
Knowing Tiny, he’ll work out a deal and find a way to make peace, which will benefit all parties involved. No one will walk away empty-handed or shortchanged as long as there’s no bloodshed or bullets flying before the deal can be finalized.
“Got it,” I tell him, holding the door against my shoulder, making it impossible for the greedy-eyed redhead to get a glimpse of Tamara.
“You two coming up for air?” he asks as he tries to glance behind me but sees nothing.
“No!” Tamara yells out.
Ginger’s mouth breaks out in a giant smile as he shakes his head. “You got your hands full with that one, brother.”
“You have no idea,” I tell him, “And you never will.”
“Figured as much,” Ginger mumbles, knowing well enough I won’t be sharing this one. “A guy can dream.”
“Keep that shit in your head and PG,” I warn him.
Ginger gives me a grin before stalking down the hallway. “Pussy-whipped already,” he says, loud enough for me to hear as I’m closing the door.
“Fucker,” I mutter to myself as I close the door and turn around to a very naked and completely uncovered Tamara. I raise an eyebrow as I rake my eyes over her bare skin. “You don’t like to follow directions, do you?”
“Are these the problem?” she asks, cupping her breasts in her hands, knowing exactly what she’s doing as she kneels toward the end of the bed. “Why don’t you teach me a lesson?” There’s a faint smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye. She’s testing me, loving to push boundaries and not even just my own.
I close the space between us quickly, and she swallows, craning her neck to look up at me. “Princess, you could tempt an angel.”
“Or a Saint.” She gives me a playful wink, running her thumbs across her nipples, drawing my gaze away from her face.
I bend my head forward, brushing my lips against hers, listening to her ragged breathing. “Put on some clothes and meet me by the bar. I need to feed you.”
“But,” she murmurs against my mouth. “I’m horny, baby.”
I laugh softly, digging this chick so much and wondering if I’ll ever get my fill. “Food first, then fucking, princess.”
She bats her eyelashes like those are her magic wands that’ll have me bending to her will. “Fucking then food,” she argues, trying to barter a deal.
One that isn’t going to work. Not on me, at least.
I cup her cheek, staring down into her hazel eyes. “You need energy for what I have planned for you.”
With those words, she’s out of bed, searching for her clothes. “Food first,” she says to herself. “Lots of pleasure after.”
I chuckle, watching her as she grabs the T-shirt
I wore yesterday and pulls it down over her head. But when she moves toward her skirt, I grab her by the wrist, stopping her.
“No,” I tell her, shaking my head.
“No?” she asks, eyebrows high.
“No.”
“Why?” There’s a smirk on her face. She knows why, but the girl likes to fuck with my head, among other things.
“Don’t move.” I release her wrist, needing to get something more for her to wear than a flimsy skirt with no panties.
“I won’t.” She raises her hand, lifting two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
I’m out of the room a second later, stalking toward my room to grab a pair of sweats that could fit her. Even if they don’t, they’ll be baggy as hell, leaving everything to the imagination for anyone who sees her.
“What are these?” she asks, holding out the gray sweats when I place them in her hand.
“Your pants.”
She scrunches her nose, staring down at the material like it’s the most hideous thing she’s ever seen. “Are you giving me some skank’s clothes they left behind after you tossed them out?”
I bark out a laugh. “They’re mine, princess. There’re no other clothes in my room but my own. And how many chicks have you seen around here in sweats?”
“Well, none, but…” She holds them out, the waist almost as wide as her shoulders and the legs nearly as long as her entire body. “What the hell am I supposed to do with them?”
“Wear them. Roll them up. Hell, pull them up over your tits. Whatever you need to do to cover your body.”
Her eyes snap to mine, her eyelids narrowing to slits. “What’s wrong with my body?”
I touch her face, sweeping my thumb across her chin. “Your body is perfection.”
“Then why these?” She lifts up my pants, shoving them in my face.
I push them down, staring her right in the eyes. “That body is only for me to see. You want to flaunt it for the guys, then you’re not mine. You want to save it and wear the sweats, trust me, I’ll totally make it worth your while.”
She studies me for a moment, lips parted, breathing heavy, turning over the words I’ve just said. For once, she doesn’t argue or give me lip. She steps back, sticking her little feet into the legs and pulls up the pants to her waist. “Now what?” she quizzes me as she holds her arms wide, showing me the giant-ass gap caused by her tiny waist.