Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset

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Forgotten & Found: A Dark & Dirty Sinners' MC Boxset Page 35

by Serena Akeroyd


  Tossing my phone at Rex, he caught it with a scowl, then eyed the text and frowned even harder.

  “She wants to meet with you again?”

  “You’ve learned to read at last,” I joked, grinning when he flipped me the bird.

  That was usually how I was greeted.

  Most people got a wave hello, I got told to ram something up my ass.

  Yum.

  Better than any greeting I knew, that was for fucking sure.

  “Lancaster’s sister?” Nyx questioned, his brow puckering as he strode around the desk and leaned over Rex’s chair to study the screen too.

  Why a few text bubbles were causing such confusion, I wasn’t sure, but from the way they were analyzing it, it was like they were trying to translate the Rosetta fucking stone.

  “Yep. Just texted now. At a really inconvenient moment.”

  Stone snorted. “Always thinking with your dick, Link. Glad to see some things never change.”

  “See you’ve still got a stone up your ass, honey,” I retorted with a beaming grin. “Wish I’d been the one to put it there. But then, you always were Steel’s, weren’t you?”

  She hissed, her mouth tensing before she surprised the shit out of me by muttering, “Shame he’s the only one who never figured that the fuck out.”

  I cocked a brow at that, and so did Nyx and Rex, because if any two people were made for each other, it was Steel and Stone—even their names sounded like a folk band. A match made in heaven—but Rex cleared his throat and instead asked, “You’re going?”

  “Told her I would. Just keeping you in the loop.” I folded my arms across my chest and turned to Stone, none of the fire in my voice this time as I questioned, “How are things?”

  “Things could be worse,” she admitted. “But they’re not at death’s door. With all the stuff Rex managed to get in—I want to know how you got that kind of shit so quickly too,” she intoned darkly, shooting him a glance to which he just smirked. “Anyway, we kept them alive, but there are a lot of sores to deal with, infections… They need IVs with antibiotics, more shit than we have on hand honestly.”

  “I’ll show you our stock,” Rex told her softly.

  “What stock?”

  “Rex has turned into a Doomsdayer,” I teased, laughing when Rex glared at me.

  “I’m not a fucking Doomsdayer. I keep that shit because our world can turn upside down in an instant. Case in point right this fucking second.”

  Stone shoved her hands into her jeans pockets, which made the denim cupping her ass tighten delightfully. Casting her tight butt a longing glance, I focused on her when Nyx, having returned to the other side of Rex’s desk, elbowed me in the side.

  I knew why.

  She was Steel’s.

  She pretty much had a ‘no entry’ sign tatted on her pussy. Even if Steel hadn’t staked a claim, not officially in the bylaws of the MC at any rate, that didn’t mean a claim hadn’t been made. Fuck, it had been made when they were both eight.

  I rubbed a hand over my face as I thought back to then, thought back to those times when shit had been so much simpler and yet so fucking complicated too.

  We hadn’t had the weight of the MC’s governing on our shoulders, but somehow that made things easier also. We were in charge now, we answered to no one, and I was big enough to admit that I loved that Rex was the only one who could boss me around.

  Rex narrowed his eyes and, utterly unapologetically, stated, “I get my gear here and there.”

  The answer just irked Stone all the more. “You mean you steal it?”

  He shrugged. “I buy it. It’s all above board.”

  “How can it be above board if you have vials of antibiotics?”

  “Told you, he’s a Doomsdayer,” I muttered. “He’s got all kinds of shit on hand, and we have contacts now. We’re pretty much pharmaceutical reps.”

  Even though I knew she was pissed, Stone laughed at that. “Don’t think pharma reps wear cuts and ride Harleys.”

  I grinned at her. “They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

  “I’ll bet,” she said drolly. Blowing out a breath, she muttered, “Guess it’s for the good in this case, but I want it known that I’m not happy about it, Rex.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take note of that, Stone.”

  “You should,” she grumbled. “If I’m gonna be your resident doctor, then you should fucking listen to me.”

  Despite myself, my shoulders straightened at that. “You’re gonna be our doc?”

  “Why the hell do you think Rex has paid for my education?” Stone frowned at me. “I’ll be working in West Orange the second I get my license, but I’ll be on hand for the MC.”

  Rex was a clever bastard. He’d done pretty much the same thing with Rachel Laker, the MC’s attorney. She was homegrown too, her career funded by the Sinners.

  We were criminals with a team of white-collar folk to save our asses when shit hit the fan.

  “Huh,” was all I said to that, because, in all honesty, I never imagined Stone would return home after completing her education. There was a lot of water under the bridge for her here, and I’d thought she’d just pay Rex back when she was a rich as fuck doctor with her practice.

  I reached over to hook my arm around her shoulder though and, squeezing her tight, grumbled, “You’re a pain in my ass, Stone, but I’ll be glad when you’re back.”

  Her lips curved. “Thanks, I think.”

  I bumped her side with mine, then asked, “You gonna get them girls right before you leave?”

  She sighed. “They need constant attention, so yeah. I’m calling in a few favors. I have maybe five days to play with. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can afford at this point in the school year.”

  Rex nodded. “I get it, Stone. You’ll do what you can and, in the interim, maybe show Giulia how to help? JoJo and Jingles too?”

  She pulled a face. If Giulia had made her dislike of the sweetbutts known with broken noses and bald patches from hair-pulling, that was nothing compared to what Stone had done in her time.

  “The first few days are critical, so I’m hoping to steer them out of the infections they’re all dealing with. But, without more equipment on hand…” A puff of air escaped her. “I can only do so much.”

  Rex rocked back in his seat, his expression thoughtful. “Might be time for the MC to start thinking about saving up for some kind of private office for you. That’s some costly shit so we’ll need to prepare a budget.”

  Her brow puckered. “I’m not going to get my license for another year.”

  “So? Rex is right. Can’t imagine that shit is cheap.” I knocked her in the side again. “I can just see you being the physician in West Orange.” I snickered. “Just think, all those fucking brats at school who used to think they could laugh at us…who’s laughing when you roll up in a beamer?”

  Stone narrowed her eyes at me, then to Rex, growled, “You can’t just change my career plan, Rex. I want to work in the ER. It’s where my heart is.”

  “And we need you to have equipment we can use. Legit equipment,” he retorted, waving a hand. “The local ER will be glad to have you working for them, right?”

  Her growl deepened. “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?” She didn’t give him a chance to reply which, I figured, was smart because she already knew the answer.

  Rex had invested in her for a reason, and that reason had just been handed down.

  He winced when she stalked off, then pretty much thrust herself out the door before slamming it shut. “I thought I was starting to miss having her around the place.”

  Nyx snorted. “Famous last words. She was the only bitch who could ever stand up to you.”

  “I don’t know. Giulia’s pretty good at that shit too,” I mused.

  Nyx’s smirk was enough to make me chuckle. “Giulia’s afraid of no one.”

  Maybe her own shadow at the moment, but I knew he was right. Giulia ha
d balls, that was for sure. She was entitled to be a little shaky after what went down, but Nyx wasn’t the only one who liked her attitude.

  Even more, I liked that she was good for my brother. Nyx needed somebody strong at his side, someone who’d have his back too. Giulia was all that and more. Sure, they hadn’t been together long, but in our world, you lived hard and died young, so you knew the score before most people stopped scratching their asses long enough to get on with shit.

  “Why the fuck Steel let her go, I have zero idea,” Rex muttered, his gaze still on the door like it was wobbling with the force of Stone’s wrath.

  “Because he doesn’t know what to do with her,” I said dryly. “She isn’t an easy lay, she’s his friend. Who he wants to fuck. While not wanting to settle down.” Made sense to me.

  “Having an Old Lady isn’t too bad.” Nyx leaned against the desk, settling in like we were going to gossip like old fucking bats at the hair salon.

  “Not all Old Ladies are created equal,” was all I said, cocking a brow at him, watching as he grimaced, knowing what I was saying without me having to say another word.

  Our parents weren’t exactly people to look up to, and though most of our moms had been Old Ladies, they’d also been sluts who’d cheated on our fathers.

  Of course, our fathers had cheated on them too.

  Sluts and manwhores. Was it any wonder Nyx had settled down when he was close to forty and with a woman who’d probably lop off his cock if he dared stray?

  “Look, I ain’t got time for this,” I mumbled. “I need to get going.”

  “What do you think she wants?” Rex inquired, his focus back on me now.

  “Dunno. Only one way to find out.” I smirked at him as I gave him a salute—of the one-fingered variety—shared it with Nyx who shook his head, then swaggered out.

  Now I’d checked in with my Prez, I could hurry the fuck on.

  The second I was on the back of my hog, even though nothing was right with my world, somehow, everything fucking was. I could blot out the entire clusterfuck that was going down around me when the wind was smashing into my face as I went full throttle, hurtling down the highway to reach one of the swankiest country clubs in the area.

  The Originals, the bastards who’d founded Satan’s Sinners, must have had a real giggle when they’d broken ground on our compound. We were smack in the middle of three of the finest elite clubs in the area, and we pissed them off more than they annoyed the shit out of us.

  The sun was bleak today, almost like it was in mourning for what had happened over the course of last night, but the wind was bolstering and the threat of rain encouraged me to edge over the speed limit. It was only because of the dreary sun that I saw a deputy hiding out behind a copse of trees five minutes away from town, so I slowed down to the legal limit, hiding my smirk as I drove past, smug that I’d caught them out in an attempt to hijack drivers.

  Fucking pigs.

  Huffing to myself, I bypassed the highway which was boring as fuck with nothing more than row after row of fields interspersed with housing estates, and finally made it onto the country club grounds.

  They owned a good twenty acres of land, a big plot of that dedicated to a golf course, naturally. There were all kinds of other amenities here, most of those I knew because I’d worked here as a snot-nosed kid, bussing tables to get some money together for my first bike.

  I hated this place, hated everything it stood for. On the outside, it was beautiful, luxurious. Elite. But it was rotten at its core. Founded on lies and deceit.

  Just because something looked pretty on the outside didn’t mean it wasn’t fugly on the inside, and these places were all like that. Cesspits of cunts like the Lancaster dick.

  But, because I knew the layout, I knew which places to avoid.

  It was why I pulled up about forty feet away from the club, begrudgingly tucked my cut into my saddlebags, and made my way on foot. Hated doing without my cut, but in these parts, it would only bring attention to me. That was the last thing I needed inside this place.

  There was the front entrance which was patrolled by security, then there was a staff entrance that, though also manned, was easier to sneak through thanks to Fat Tony who’d been on guard here for twenty years and who, I felt sure, had spent at least fourteen years of those two decades sleeping on the job. Slipping past him was a piece of cake, and the second I was through, I eyed the ass of the building.

  It wasn’t as fine as the front, but it was bustling with staff. Some carrying dishes, others with laundry. Some with cleaning equipment, others hauling their bags on the way home after a shift.

  I slipped in among them, enjoying the commotion as I made my way over the tiled patio toward an area I knew was the kitchen. When I was in there, I ducked into one of the side rooms that was used for storage, then I grabbed my cell from my pocket and tapped out, I’m at the club. Where do we meet?

  Her: The tennis courts. You know where they are?

  I didn’t bother answering. The fact that she wanted to meet here was making me suspicious anyway. What kind of brother would be able to access this place? It was dumb fucking luck that I was the one who’d approached her last night, and it was more of the same that I knew my way around here.

  This had the makings of a trap written all over it, but I knew some of the managers here so, if I got caught, I figured I could talk my way out of it. They’d been bussing tables and doing all the shitty jobs at the same time as I had, but when I’d cut and run the second I could start prospecting for the MC, they’d made a career out of wiping rich men’s asses.

  Not fun.

  Nope.

  Even for me. Who loved a nice ass.

  My lips quirked at the thought, but now I knew my destination, so I strolled out, keeping to the staff halls which were a boring mixture of dark brown lino and smudged paint where laundry and cleaning carts had scraped against the gray walls.

  Knowing the way to the front of the grounds was only accessible by crossing through the club itself, I peered out one of the service doors, saw the coast was clear in one of the themed TV rooms—this one was for the rich fuckers who liked to lose their money on horse racing—a fact I picked up on thanks to the ten TVs that displayed horse races from around the world, and walls that were loaded down with photos of horses with rosettes on their glossy necks and beaming, tiny pricks who’d rode them hard to win.

  Though it was empty, and I was tempted to take a splash of their fine whisky and down it, I decided against it. I was already pushing my luck and, any moment, security could spot me. I’d probably end up in jail for the night if I was caught, but since the info Lancaster’s sister had given us had proved useful, I was eager to know why she wanted to meet again.

  She’d had to spike her guards’ beers just to talk to a brother, so that told me there were eyes on her too. And I wasn’t just talking about the pricks who couldn’t handle mixing their drinks.

  Darting outside, I headed for the tennis courts. They were clearly visible in the near distance, and the sound of a ball being volleyed and a machine popping out balls so some spineless rich prick could practice their backhand would have given me another clue if I’d gone blind in the past few minutes.

  I was, however, grateful for the club’s design. The building was on a higher level than the grounds, which meant the veranda I walked out onto gave me a good grip of the layout ahead. It made spotting the woman who was sitting on a bench by the courts easy.

  Now that I was out here, and aware I wasn’t exactly dressed for the part even if I had taken off my cut, I stuck to the hedges that bisected every activity in the grounds. From the pool to the courts to the bowling green, all of it was surrounded by a natural fence.

  Using them to my advantage, I moved fast and slipped onto the bench at the woman’s side, jolting her because her focus had been on her phone.

  Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and I had to admit, bleak sun or the mood lighting in the bar, she was hot. I di
dn’t want to say that, not when I knew what stock she’d come from, but sweet Jesus, she was a beautiful bitch.

  Long, golden hair that curled around her throat and big, blue eyes that were shielded by the thickest fucking lashes I’d ever seen on a woman. None of those spidery things that looked like beetles had been glued on, but thick lashes she used to hide behind—I could see why. Those blue eyes of hers were expressive. The color shifted with the light, morphing from navy to royal blue into a cerulean. I had to wonder if each color corresponded to an emotion, but I wasn’t here for girl talk, was I?

  She had lips that were made for sucking cock, and her tits? I wanted to groan as I peered down the white blouse she wore before taking in her pencil skirt that showed off every curve she possessed. Though she was hot as fuck, or hot enough to fuck depending on your inclination, she was dressed for a business meeting.

  Far as I knew, most of the women who used Crosskeys weren’t here on business. They were either topping up their tans or trying to stay thin so they could catch a rich husband or, if they’d already caught one, keep him interested in them.

  A quick glance at her left hand told me she wasn’t engaged or married, but when I lingered on the watch lining her wrist, I had to whistle. Unable to stop myself, I grabbed her hand, tugged out her arm, then twisted it slightly so I could look at the piece.

  “Unusual choice for a woman,” I commented, not really looking at her, mostly just taking in the watch. “George Daniels Co-Axial Chronograph.” I let the grumpy sun flash over the face, which was a marvel. Cream inlay with Roman numerals all around the rim, it had gold hour, minute, and second hands, and had two smaller dials at the bottom with a half-moon dial at the top. It was history in the flesh, fabricated by a revolutionary in the field. “Beautiful.”

  I finally looked at her and saw she was amused. That had me scowling.

  “You know your watches,” was all she said.

  “I do.”

  “My grandfather gave it to me.” Her lips twisted into a smirk. “Luke was pissed. He wanted it.”

 

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