Going Under

by LeTeisha Newton

  “Jack …”

  I lay on the bed and summoned her to me. She shuffled over to me and I pulled her down to straddle my hips. “Get to work learning. I won’t accept any more mistakes.”

  “Because it embarrassed you?”

  “Because I did not like seeing him touching you. Because I wanted to rip out his fucking throat for forcing me to make you cry. Is that answer enough for you?”

  I didn’t know what I wanted her to say. As we looked at one another, I felt exposed. My past failures were under her lips, traced by her tongue. My cock thickened as her hot breath skated over my flesh. She read each rule before her wet mouth used my skin as paper. She memorized them, repeated them. But what slayed me—what destroyed me piece by piece—was she touched every wound I’d ever received, learning them, too.

  I could see it in her eyes—the way they filled with tears, the way her mouth trembled as she softly kissed the scars. Fuck, as her fingers wrapped around my cock, she pumped every time she grazed over an old hurt. And shit if it didn’t twist the memory. Morph it into some new pleasure she provided. Warmth spread through me, and something cracked in my chest. The emotion was foreign; I couldn’t recognize it, but it scared the shit out of me. Still, I couldn’t break away. Couldn’t stop watching her face as she let a tear slide down her cheek. Didn’t stop my hands as I reached for her and lifted her up and over my body.

  Jesus, I couldn’t stop until she was naked—except for her thigh-high boots—and poised over my cock.

  “Jack?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry they hurt you. And no one sent me to that building. I swear to God.”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond. Between one breath and the next, she opened up an ancient wound and then seared it with hot fire as her pussy gripped my cock. I gasped as she rode me, flinging her hips. This wasn’t smooth or sweet; it was wild and violent. We fucked hard and fast. My balls slapped her ass, and she screamed with each upward thrust. And yet, we never lost eye contact. I watched as a flush spread across her cheeks and down her neck. She was so fucking beautiful like that. I wondered why she’d been out there that night when I found her, and then I was just too happy I’d snatched her. I wanted to know what made her love the messed-up shit I did to her, and then I saw the track marks and thought maybe she still needed destruction in her life.

  That I could be what she needed.

  I gripped her ass and pulled her down harder on my cock. Too many thoughts swirled in my head and I didn’t know how to process any of them. Overwhelmed, I sat up and latched on to one of her nipples. She scored my back with her nails as we rammed into one another. Her other tit bounced up and down as we moved. Melody threw her head back and screamed.

  “Right there?” I asked around her nipple.

  “Yes, harder. Please harder.”

  I shifted my feet under me so I could maneuver better. Then I lifted her and slammed her back onto the bed. Her legs rested in the crooks of my arms and I rose up on my knees. Her ass was in the air, her body almost folded in half.

  “All that pretty ass is still pink from earlier. Let’s see if I can make that pussy just as hot.”

  When she gripped the covers next to her head, I took that for acceptance. Adjusting us so I hovered above her, I stroked down. Her mouth fell open on a silent gasp. Right there. I loved her face right there, when she took me to the brim, handled me, and craved more. It only made me want to push her further. I balanced myself on the bed with one palm flat to the mattress and sat back. The space between out separated bodies gave me a clear angel to her clit.

  “Take a breath,” I told her. She sucked in deep, and I slapped her clit. Her breath rushed out of her as she wailed.

  “Again,” I told her.

  Her legs quaked and her stomach dipped as she did so. This time I waited, holding her there as I pumped my hips. She held her breath like a good girl. I waited until she released the covers and gripped my arms. Her nails dug into my skin, the sharp pinpricks driving the pleasure higher. My balls drew up tight and liquid desire pooled in my groin. Sex and musk filled the air around us, and it had never smelled sweeter.

  “Come for me.”

  I slapped her clit again, harder, and she clenched around my cock. I fucked her, milked her pleasure while enhancing my own. A shiver crawled up my spine just before I found my release, pumping my seed into her tight pussy and jerking until I was lightheaded. It wasn’t until I pulled out of her, exhausted, that I saw my cum spilling from her and realized I hadn’t stopped to put on a condom.

  Fuck.

  UNKNOWN: Was her pussy good, rat boy? Did you like how it tasted? I will keep your secret …for now.

  I tossed my phone across the room. Melody shifted in her sleep but didn’t wake up. I looked down at her and reappraised my original suspicion. Nobody outside of club members were allowed within club walls, ever. If the unknown prick knew I’d fucked Melody, I wasn’t facing a rival group. No, my fucking family history was coming back to haunt me, and Melody and I were both at risk of losing our lives in this game.

  7

  Melody

  I cleaned the bar top using a rag soaked with bleach and water as Janet hauled cases of beer from the cellar. Since the incident two weeks back between Jasmin and me, she had barely spoken in my general direction. Didn’t help when Jack demanded she go out and get me a wardrobe befitting my station, ensuring I was decked out in skinny jeans, tank tops, dresses, skirts, and enough leather to make even Jasmin jealous. I smiled and swished my hips every time I walked past one of those bitches.

  Then I realized I had grown comfortable. Jack didn’t chain me at night, and I didn’t really care about running away. The night I’d learned the rules and more about my captor muddied the waters in ways I didn’t want to examine. I hated the Honeys, tried to steer clear of Samuel and his hussy, and worked as I needed to in order to keep a cool head. At night? I looked forward to climbing into Jack’s bed and exploring the fragile truce he and I had created.

  What we shared wasn’t conventional. Hell, he’d kidnapped, claimed, spanked, and screwed me as he saw fit. Delicious and dark, he gave my little fucked-up heart what I’d craved during the nights I’d spent trolling alleys for some sort of dangerous situation. One addiction for another.

  Back home, nobody missed me. My parents gave up on me when I became a disappointment and couldn’t fit into their high-class life. They’d written me out of their life when they erased me from their will. And my friends? Well, they disappeared with the money, and I realized I’d been alone all along. Maybe that’s why the urge for escape shrank little by little every time he touched me. When he stood beside me, others respected me because I belonged to him.

  At least here I had some sort of place.

  As cruel as it was, I loved being his whore behind closed doors and his tease when we were in public. I found myself craving times when his eyes would roam over my body, his club brothers around him, and I knew I belonged to him. And part of me felt disappointed when my period arrived shortly after that night in the woods when he hadn’t thought to use a condom.

  “Stockholm Syndrome, that’s what I have,” I said.

  “What?” Janet asked.

  “Nothing.” She shrugged and kept moving. It surprised me that she spoke to me at all, but then, maybe Jack warned her about that, too.

  “Prospect,” Rex roared. He winked at me as he passed the bar and took a seat near one of the big-screen televisions mounted on the wall. The clubhouse was pretty full with those on break from work or not in the garage. Jack had just headed back to his room to clean up after getting off early from work. I didn’t know why he’d taken a half day, but I hoped it involved me in bed soon.

  “Sir?” The sole Prospect for the Diamond Eaters scrambled into the room in his dirty blue jeans, black t-shirt, and plain leather vest. In his mid-twenties, the dark-haired man looked haggard. Diamond Eaters weren’t easy on anyone, and Rex had vouched for him
to come into the club.

  “Turn on the tube for me, then go help Janet bring in the liquor. We’ve got OS coming in tonight, and it’s going to get crazy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Something on my face must have alerted Janet, because she spoke. “Didn’t your man tell you about Old School coming in tonight with their group?”

  I rolled my eyes and turned toward her. “Didn’t your man … Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have one.”

  She sucked her breath through her teeth, but before she could say anything, she smirked, looking behind me. I cringed inside and wondered if Jasmin was behind me like some fucking avenging angel. As I turned, that wasn’t what I found.

  “Melody Hughes was last seen leaving her home on Hackberry late Saturday night on March eighth before traveling to the Felthill area. A witness claimed to see her run away from the local club after being accosted, but it is unclear as to who had bothered her. She currently works at a gas station on Twenty-third and Washington, but her employer says she hasn’t been to work since that night. The police have stated she is considered a person of interest in an investigation of a murder and believe she may, herself, be in danger. They are not prepared to release details about the murder victim but in a recent press conference alluded that this may be attached to increased violence between local motorcycle gangs. We are now joined by—”

  I didn’t hear the rest, not over the ringing in my ears. I scanned the room to the men who looked at me with varying degrees of hostility. I hadn’t told a soul anything about what I saw. I never left the clubhouse, even though Jack had given me freedom to move around. But I knew what was on their minds. I could see the distrust in the way their gazes cut to each other and back to me.

  “You’re more trouble than you’re fucking worth,” someone said behind me. Samuel gripped my arm and dragged me from behind the bar. I teetered on my heels as he tossed me into a seat in the center of the room.

  “Get Jack out here now and the rest of the boys in for a meeting. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

  Rex leapt to his feet and rushed out the room. I looked at Samuel. “I’m missing, but I don’t know what they want from me,” I told him.

  “Shut up. You’re a piece of ass, probably a snitch. He’s got a weakness for them, did he tell you?”

  I didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. The room went silent as he spoke. Someone must have paused the television because my face was still plastered on the screen, frozen for their viewing pleasure. I remembered taking the picture when I started working at the gas station. My parents hadn’t submitted any photos they had and probably hadn’t cared if the cops contacted them at all. When Jack came into the room with a fierce scowl on his face, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What is it now? I need to get protection ready for tonight,” Jack said. His boots clipped as he came toward me and placed one hand on my shoulder. That one act, a show of solidarity, eased the tension inside of me. I leaned toward his leg and soaked up his warmth.

  “We ain’t going to talk here, but you are going to explain to me about that shit,” Samuel said as he pointed at the television screen. “She see you? Know about what happened?”

  Jack didn’t answer him. Instead, he took my hand and signaled for me to stand. “Meeting been called?”

  “Yeah, you bet your ass it’s been called.”

  “I’ll take her to my room.”

  “Have her locked in there. Rex, get two men on her door and the Prospect at the window. She won’t be going anywhere,” Samuel ordered.

  “It’s unnecessary, Samuel. I vouched for her, and she’s good. She won’t move out of that room if I say so.”

  “I don’t give a shit about your vouch. You’re here for a debt, and we all know it. Like father, like fucking son, and I like to keep a fucking eye on you. Don’t forget that. I don’t care if you little whore hears it.”

  Jack’s fingers clenched around mine tight enough to make me cry out, but I bit the inside of my cheek and bore it. He said nothing as he walked me to his room, but his shoulders were tense, and I noted the way he rubbed his left thigh. I knew what was there—a nasty burn mark from a cigar. Had Samuel done that? But they were close in age, and Jack had told me elders had done it.

  Questions swirled in my head as Jack walked me into his room and sat me on his bed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t worry,” he whispered to me. His lips were cool and dry as he pressed a kiss to my forehead before he left the room.

  I heard the lock twist for the door, and a shadow over the bed told me the Prospect was at the window. A quick peek over my shoulder confirmed it. Samuel had effectively made sure I couldn’t go anywhere. But what could Jack do? The viciousness with which Samuel had insulted me was frightening. Did they think I was a snitch? What would happen to me if they did?

  I knew it was coming; the fucking cunt and the rat were going to be found out. He played real silent the last couple weeks, poking around and trying to find me. I’m standing right in his face, but he’ll see it soon enough. They all will. Fucker never should have been Sarge. Never should have been alive, as far as I’m concerned. Soon I’m going to take care of all this shit.

  Soon.

  8

  Jack

  UNKNOWN: Now everyone knows, Jack. Can you feel me coming for you?

  “I have a very simple question for you, Jack, and I expect a yes or no answer before we go any further. Did she see you kill Michael?”

  “No.”

  Take that and shove it up your ass.

  I didn’t care that the lie rolled so easily off my tongue. Technically, she didn’t see me kill the bastard, so it wasn’t exactly a lie, just an omission. The unknown texter did, and I still hadn’t found him. Did Melody see me holding a smoking gun and Michael fall down, dead, to the ground? Yep, but he hadn’t asked me that question, so he wouldn’t get that answer. He’d scared Melody, and for that, the little shit deserved to have to work his way to convincing everyone Melody deserved to die … or be his Honey.

  I knew what he was doing.

  The moment he brought that shit up about my father, I knew he wanted to ruin my image in her head, to push her to want better pastures on the other side. He didn’t fucking know Melody very well. If that was what his Old Lady was like and Sam loved her, so be it. He wouldn’t paint Melody with the same brush. He would never have her as far as I was concerned, and that included her possible death.

  Rex shook his head as he rubbed his beard. His apologetic gaze met mine, and I refrained from wincing. “If she did, Jack, she’s a loose end since she’s not your Old Lady.”

  “I know that, Rex, and I’ve already said she didn’t see shit.”

  “Isn’t that where you killed Michael, though? We use Fetlhill because of the crime infestation and murder rate,” Sloane, the club’s Secretary, said.

  “Yes, it was, but she didn’t see it. I came across her while I was leaving and thought she would be a nice piece work. I tried it, liked it, and brought her home. That simple.”

  “No, Jack, it isn’t that simple. She was near the scene of a crime and now the cops are looking for her. We need to make sure they don’t find her.”

  Sloane nodded, as did Ricky, the Road Captain. Rex just watched. I could at least be appreciative of that. But that left only Rex and me in agreement not to kill her, and we were in the minority.

  “What about making her your Old Lady?” Rex asked.

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m not marrying the girl.”

  “You and I both know you don’t have to marry her.”

  “She’s not his Old Lady, and, frankly, she isn’t material for that. You see how he disrespected Jasmin? My Old Lady. She doesn’t know her place.”

  “That was a couple of weeks ago, Samuel. She paid her price, and there haven’t been any more mistakes. In fact, she’s been helping some of the newer Honeys learn club rules. Hell, the Prospect lets her quiz him when he needs it,” Rex added.

 
I swallowed that piece of information. It seemed the work I’d done with Melody had stuck.

  “That’s all well and good, but she’s not an Old Lady now, and Jack doesn’t want to make her one. I’m not going to waste a favor with the cops we have on payroll for his piece of ass. We kill her and be done with it,” Samuel stated.

  I counted to ten. It didn’t work, but it kept me in check enough not to reach across the table and pound Samuel’s face into it. His fucking smirk pissed me off. He knew what he was doing and it irritated me. Melody would never be just some piece of ass to me. Whatever we were, I didn’t need the labels of the club to establish it. As Sergeant of Arms, my say should have been above reproach.

  “Are you saying my word means nothing?” I asked.

  “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? Your father was a fucking rat, Jack. He broke this fucking club into pieces, ruined my father’s life and mine. No, your word doesn’t mean shit. You are here because you were elected to be so, and you are paying off your father’s debt. End of story. Don’t try to be more than you are,” Samuel said with a sneer.

  “We agreed he paid those dues when he took lashes for each year his father was in office, Samuel. His debt now is to the brotherhood, and he agreed, upon pain of death, to uphold those laws. If he wasn’t worthy of those, there would have been no reason to be sitting at this table,” Rex said.

  “You going against me?” Samuel asked.

  “No, I’m saying we all know what his father did. We will never forget it, but just like a patch member can vouch for a Prospect, it’s the Prospect’s actions that make him club material. We deal with what’s on the table and that’s the girl.”