The Notorious Devils MC: Complete Collection BoxSet

by Faiman, Hayley

  “Wow, that’s a long time,” I murmur.

  “Seventeen years. Probably twelve years too long,” she announces as her nose scrunches up.

  “You need to talk about it?” I ask.

  “No. There’s nothing to say. He fucks other women at his club while he’s so high he doesn’t even remember his own name; and I’m here, waiting for him to grow the fuck up. He’s thirty-five years old. I’ve lost hope that he ever will.”

  I open my mouth to reply to her, but she doesn’t let me. Instead, she just walks away, leaving me alone in her living room. I make my way into the kitchen, searching for a glass and then some water. I have a feeling that the next two weeks are going to be really, really long.

  * * *

  “Hello,” I whisper into the phone.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Paxton’s voice murmurs huskily from the other line. “How you gettin’ along?”

  “I’m okay. Just reading in bed,” I say with a sigh.

  “Everything goin’ okay with Genny?” he asks.

  It’s been three days, and I’ve only encountered Genny once since our initial conversation. She seems sad, almost as if she’s just floating through life, as if she’s living it with no purpose at all.

  It’s painful to watch.

  I don’t know what she does in her room all day long, but I didn’t go to work today, and she never came out. The only reason I know that she’s home is because her car is in the garage.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  “She’s not always an easy woman, I’ve heard,” he murmurs.

  I hum my response but don’t say anything. I’m not sure how easy I would be if my husband of fourteen years, who I lived with the entire time, got high and had sex with whores on a regular basis.

  “Tell me something about you,” I urge, changing the subject.

  Every night, Paxton has called, just as he’s promised; and every night, he’s told me something new about himself. In return, I tell him something about me. Sometimes they’re deep, like when he told me about his mother and her horrendous treatment of him; and sometimes he just tells me something simple, like his favorite meal.

  “When I was deployed the first time, and you were at home waiting for me,” he begins, and I know that it’s going to be something deep tonight. “All the guys were getting Dear John letters, calls, and emails from friends about their girls being sluts or whatever. I never worried about you. I know I came home and was a dick to you. But honest to fuck, sweetheart, I never once worried that you would step out on me.”

  I curl onto my side and close my eyes, thinking about the words he’s saying and the amount of trust he truly had in me back then. I loved him so much, and I just knew we were going to have a perfect life together.

  “You’ll never have to worry about me, Pax,” I admit.

  “Know that, Clee. I came back a fuckin’ mess. I knew I would hurt you. After I did what I did, I left and I got drunk, but I got drunk alone. I didn’t go out with anyone and I didn’t party or anything. I sat in a booth, in a bar, by myself, and I drank and drank and drank some more. I was my mother. I was hateful and cruel and I hurt you for no good fuckin’ reason. I knew, baby, I knew that it would happen again. It’s one of the reasons I left you. I couldn’t hurt you like that again,” he murmurs.

  I can’t stop the tears from flowing down my face. He’s said some of this to me before, but I know that right now, he’s still kicking himself for the past, and that needs to stop. We’ll never move forward if he doesn’t stop.

  “For a long time, there was nobody else, Cleo. I did another tour, and so much bad shit happened that I couldn’t re-up again, not if I ever wanted a chance at not being a complete mental case. I got out and went back to my hometown. It wasn’t ‘til I saw a buddy of my dad’s that I looked into the club. Never had that in me before. The life my dad lived just wasn’t really what I ever dreamed about. But Buck saw the demons and he talked to me about the war, about the bad shit, and it helped.”

  “I’m glad that you had someone to help you,” I whisper.

  “You would be, my sweetheart.”

  “I wish that I could have been that for you,” I admit, chewing on my bottom lip.

  “I know you do. I wish that I would have allowed you to be that for me.”

  We stay silent for a moment and then Paxton says he has to go. I don’t want him to get off of the phone, but I know that he has to.

  “I miss you,” I whisper before I hang up.

  “Miss, you too, sweetheart.”

  The line goes dead, and I plug my cell into the charger before I curl beneath the sheets and think about him. I can’t help the tears that continue to flow at the thought of him eleven years ago.

  I can’t even comprehend what he must have been feeling. He was so young—we were so young. I have to try and forget the what ifs, because that time is gone. I need to focus on the future and what can be.

  TORCH

  It’s been a week since I’ve seen my woman. Goddamn, I didn’t think that I would ever truly yearn for someone the way that I do for her. We’ve just dropped off our delivery to Ziven, our Russian contact in Denver, and Soar is chatting to him before we head back to our hotel. I watch as Ziven pulls out a phone, and then a few moments, later he grins at Soar and they shake hands.

  “Got some pussy and dope for the night. Figured you wouldn’t be down. They’re sendin’ a car to pick me up,” he shrugs.

  “Have fun. Don’t get into trouble,” I chuckle as I clap him on the back.

  “I ever get into trouble?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Depends on who’s askin’,” I laugh.

  “Gen doesn’t count. She’s pissed off because the sky isn’t the right shade of blue and doesn’t match her eyes.” I look at him in surprise and he shakes his head. “Everything pisses Gen off. Every fuckin’ thing. I might as well have some fun,” he shrugs.

  “Not gettin’ in the middle of your marriage, brother,” I say, holding up my hands.

  “Fuck, what marriage? Can’t remember the last time I even got tit, let alone fucked her,” he growls as a car pulls up. “I’m out.”

  I watch as she slides into the backseat of an expensive black sedan, lifting his chin in my direction before the car takes off. I hope that he’s back by morning, because there’s no way in fuck I want to stay around Denver longer than I have to. It’s cold, and I miss my woman.

  * * *

  I’m gonna kill that fucker.

  It’s noon when Soar saunters into the hotel room, as if we weren’t supposed to head out of this place five fucking hours ago. I place my hands on my hips and watch him walk into the room. When he sees the steam that’s pouring out of my ears, he at least has the guts to look sorry.

  “We’re leavin’, now,” I grunt as I pick up my bag and hoist it over my shoulder.

  “Need to at least get a shower, brother. I smell like I’ve been fuckin’ pros all night,” he chuckles.

  “No time,” I announce.

  “Fine. Fuck it. At least we won’t be back in Cali without having to stop at another hotel, so I can wash the hooker off of me before I see Gen.”

  I grunt, unsure of why he’s all of a sudden worried about what Genny thinks. He wasn’t worried about it yesterday afternoon when he left, or last night when he was fucking the prostitutes themselves. I don’t understand what they’ve got going on, not even a little.

  Back in Idaho, we had brothers who fucked whores and were married. They didn’t want their wives to find out—not like Soar who, one second doesn’t care, and the next second acts as though he’s remorseful.

  I don’t understand it at all.

  * * *

  Driving toward home, we’re able to go a little faster, taking main roads and not having to avoid any. Our truck is completely empty of anything illegal, and I’m glad for it. I miss my woman, and last night she informed me that she’d found a place for us.

  Colleen, Texas’ Old Lady, took her house
hunting, along with Mary-Anne and Teeny. They even put a deposit down to hold it. Cleo was so excited, there’s no way I could say no, even if I tried. There’s a pool, and she’s thrilled to be able to sunbathe. Honest to fuck, I’m thrilled to be able to watch her do it.

  “When we stop for diesel, I’m gonna need to ride passenger and you’re gonna need to drive. My head is killin’ me,” I grumble.

  “Yeah, sure,” Soar shrugs.

  It’s been two days since he came back smelling like a brothel, and he’s rested up. His eyes are no longer rimmed red from drug use. Soar’s not a bad guy. He’s a great brother, but I can see there’s something larger than pussy and dope working behind his eyes.

  It takes a guy with demons to spot another. He tries to play off like he’s this happy go-lucky guy, that nothing bothers him, but I can see past that to the pain that lies beneath.

  “Oh, fuck,” Soar shouts as the truck starts to slow down.

  What seems like minutes later, I sit up, my vision hazy from sleep.

  “What’s happening?” I ask, looking around.

  “Fucking pigs, goddamn,” he growls.

  I don’t know what he’s so worried about. We have a hidden compartment where we stow our guns while we’re traveling, for this reason alone, and all of our product is gone. I don’t get a chance to ask him why he’s starting to sweat and look really fucking guilty because the officer is already at his door.

  He asks both of us to get out of the truck just as another officer pulls up. One has Soar and another has me. He asks me shit like where we’re headed and where we came from. I tell him the story that we’re always supposed to tell anybody who asks.

  We helped a friend move to Denver. We’re on our way back to California.

  The cop questioning me totally buys it, but something isn’t right with Soar. He’s being patted down, and I know that he’s holding something just by the way his head drops back as he closes his eyes.

  Fuck.

  We’re only an hour from home. One hour. Goddammit.

  I watch as the cop throws some baggies on the hood of his car. Then he hooks Soar up with cuffs.

  “Your buddy’s getting arrested and booked with intent to sell those narcotics he’s got on him. We gonna find anything in the back of that truck that will hook you up, too?” asks the cop that’s been questioning me.

  “Take a look around. I got nothin’,” I shrug. I swear to fuck, if Soar has more in his bag and I go down for his shit, I’m gonna shank his ass in prison.

  It only takes a few minutes for the two cops to search the truck and come up with a whole lotta fucking nothing. Begrudgingly, they let me go. I turn on my speaker and dial MadDog as I make my way toward the clubhouse.

  “Yeah,” he mutters into the phone.

  “Got pulled over an hour outside of the county line. Soar got hooked up with intent to sell,” I say, cutting to the chase.

  “Fucking shit. That guy and his goddamn dope,” MadDog roars.

  “I’m on my way to the clubhouse, but someone’s gotta tell Genny,” I grumble. No way in fuck do I want to be the one who tells her.

  “Christ. That bitch is going to go off the rails,” he says.

  I nod, like he can see me, and tell him that I’ll be there in an hour. He tells me that he’ll call the girls and have them come to the clubhouse.

  Fucking hell.

  Pulling up to the clubhouse an hour later, I see that the parking lot is full of cars and bikes. My eyes catch my Ranchero, and I know that Clee is inside waiting for me. I pull the truck into the warehouse and then hop out, slamming the door behind me before walking into the club.

  Opening the door, I’m met with the angry glare of Genny.

  “What did he have?” she asks.

  “I’m sorry, babe, I don’t know. I only know they hooked him up and carted his ass off,” I say, my voice soft and gentle.

  She nods once, and I watch her—the whole fucking room watches her—waiting for her to flip her shit. But she doesn’t. Instead, she looks around and catches MadDog’s eye.

  “I’m leaving. I’m not coming back. I’m going home to my family. I’m sorry, but I’m divorcing his ass,” she announces.

  “Now, Genny. We don’t even know if the charges will stick,” MadDog explains.

  “No, fuck that. He doesn’t give a fuck about me. He cares about the club, the drugs, and the whores. I’m not anywhere on that list. So he can have it all, and he doesn’t have to worry about me anymore,” she says as she starts to take a step toward the front door.

  “Babe, you know that’s not true,” Colleen says.

  “Do I?” Genny asks, arching a brow. “I know he doesn’t come home for days, sometimes even weeks. I know he’d rather fuck those whores than come home to me. I know that what I want, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

  “What do you want?” Colleen asks.

  I feel embarrassed for Genny. She doesn’t seem like an open person, and here she is, laying her shit out in front of the club.

  “Everything,” she practically whispers.

  “That’s too much,” Colleen whispers back.

  “Then. Fuck. Him.” Genny growls before she walks out of the door, slamming it behind her and leaving us all pretty fucking stunned.

  Chapter Nineteen

  CLEO

  “I feel like I should chase after her,” I whisper to nobody but myself.

  “Don’t, I’m going to,” Mary-Anne says next to me.

  I watch her storm after Genny, MadDog close behind her, with a grunt and a low murmur that I can’t quite decipher.

  “Clee,” Paxton’s voice rumbles, taking my thoughts from Genny as I turn to him.

  He’s standing too far away, looking at me with something I can’t read, but I don’t care. After weeks, he’s here. Here. I start to move my feet; then they carry me in a run, and I jump in his arms, wrapping my thighs around his waist and my arms around his neck before my lips crash against his. Paxton catches me with a grunt and wraps his long fingers around my ass, giving me a squeeze.

  “I missed you,” I breathe as cat calls erupt from the room.

  “Missed you, sweetheart,” he whispers before his lips brush mine and he starts to walk away from the crowd.

  “Paxton, they’re all watching,” I say, shoving my heated face into his neck.

  “Yeah, and they all know I haven’t had my woman’s pussy in two weeks, so they know not to bother us for a few hours,” he murmurs, making my breath hitch.

  Once we’re inside of his room, he slams the door closed and I hear the lock flip before he unwinds me from his body, gently forcing my feet to land on the floor.

  Lifting my head, I look into his blue eyes and take him in. His face is scruffy from not shaving, his jaw clinched hard, and his eyes are focused on me—nothing but me.

  “Paxton?”

  “You okay with all the shit I told you?” he asks. It makes me fall a little deeper for him, just the fact that he’s asking.

  “More than okay,” I whisper.

  “Don’t deserve even an ounce of you, sweetheart. Not in a million years could I be a good enough man to deserve the woman you are.”

  I reach up to his face, cupping his cheeks with my palms as I smile up at him.

  “I have a feeling, no matter how long we’re together, you’ll always think that. Which means you definitely deserve me,” I grin.

  “You’re a fuckin’ crazy woman,” he smirks as he turns his head and places a kiss on my palm.

  “I’m your crazy woman,” I murmur.

  “Fuck, yeah, you are.”

  Paxton wraps his fists in my shirt and pulls it apart, sending the buttons of my satin blouse all over the room and causing me to gasp before he wrenches it down my arms and lets it fall to the floor.

  Next, he unhooks my bra and lets it fall. Without a word, he dips his head and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. I moan as my hands fly to the back of his head to hold him against me, feeling his warm, s
oft, tongue swirl against my skin teasingly.

  His hand skims down my side, his fingertips gently brushing my skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, until he reaches the waistband of my cotton skirt.

  Without skipping a beat, his fingers travel beneath the waist and cup my center over the top of my panties.

  “This pussy, hot and warm. Fuckin’ missed it, Clee.”

  “I missed you, too,” I whimper as his finger moves the center of my panties to the side and grazes my slit.

  “You want me?” he asks as his mouth kisses over to my other breast while his finger continues to gently touch me.

  “Yes,” I say as my thighs shake.

  “Goddamn, you are so sweet, baby,” he murmurs, his finger thrusting inside of me.

  I throw back my head with a long whimpered moan as he fucks me with his finger, his mouth owning my breast. His other hand grabs ahold of my waist and he squeezes me. Paxton is all around me, consuming me, making me dizzy and completely breathless.

  Rolling my hips, climbing toward my release, I let out a cry when he pulls his hand out of my skirt and takes a step back from me.

  His hair is as wild as his eyes, and he grins before he lifts his chin toward the bed. I don’t bother asking him what he wants from me.

  I shimmy my skirt over my hips and let it drop to the floor. I then step out of my shoes and pull my panties down to join my skirt before I walk toward the bed.

  “You can’t move,” he announces.

  I turn to look at him. He’s shirtless now and his muscles move as he unbuckles his pants before they slump down his legs and hit the floor. I’m lost in thought about his muscles, how sexy they look, how I can’t wait until he’s using them with all of his strength to bring me pleasure.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Be a good girl. Do what I want,” he says, pinning me with a look that I can’t read.

  He looks almost scary. I nod once, afraid to say anything else as I crawl onto the bed, staying on my knees as I wait for him.