by Voss, Deja
I feel that familiar swelling inside of me, his moans escalating, and as he pulls out and covers my back in his cum, in one final act of possession, my legs turn to complete rubber and I hug the desk below me. His hands gently palm my neck, my chin, turning my head to him for a soft kiss.
“I mean it, Lena,” he says, running his fingers through my hair as I come down from this overwhelming high. “You’re my woman now. Just mine.”
“And what are you, then?” I ask.
“I’m the man that’s fucking crazy about you. I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
I smile up at him as he towels me off with some tissues from the box on the desk, relishing his comforting touch, wishing that we could just spend the rest of the night here wrapped up in each other’s arms. I’m in no hurry to dress, even though we should probably get back to the party.
“Come on,” he urges, hugging me to his body. “There’s nothing in the world like a slice of Trixie’s birthday cake after a good fucking.” All I can do is laugh. I trust his judgment. Might as well take advantage of the opportunity.
He helps me dress, and I admire every inch, every muscle, of his sexy body as I watch him pull up his jeans. He wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head as he shuts off the office light.
I walk down that dark corridor a new woman, a changed woman, an “old lady,” I suppose. His hand never leaves the small of my back. My heart won’t stop racing. I am head over heels crazy about this man, and after today, I know in my heart he feels the same way about me. I feel like I’ve been born again, tossed into the life I always wanted for myself, but never had the courage to go for. I could still be an independent woman and his. The two of us together is better than anything I could accomplish on my own. Having someone to share my life with instead of flailing around in the dark, hoping that I one day find my way, is a dream come true. It doesn’t hurt that it comes in the form of this tall, bearded, sexy as fuck, biker who knows how to push all my buttons.
By the time we make it back into the main room of the clubhouse, the place has cleared out significantly, and Josie is sitting at a table, sorting through the pile of birthday presents everyone showered her in, sniffing lotions and dabbing eye shadow on the back of her hand. Heat offers us a round of applause when he catches sight of us, and Brooks shoots him a middle finger while I try to stifle the urge to crack up.
I scoop a giant piece of chocolate cake onto a little paper plate, famished from the lack of dinner and surprise workout.
“You ladies ready to go home?” Brooks asks, finishing off his piece of cake. “We all have a long day tomorrow.”
I’ve never been more ready to go home in my entire life. Our home. My new family. Every hour I can spend with them between now and tomorrow, when shit is going to start hitting the fan, is precious. I help Josie collect her bags, and load them into Brooks’s truck.
Josie jumps in my Jeep with me for the short drive up the hill. She’s grinning from ear to ear, but her eyes are tired.
“Did you have a good birthday?” I ask.
“Not as good as your day, apparently,” she says with a giggle. “I know that look on your face. You got that sex hair, sis.”
“Gross,” I tease.
“So are you guys like a thing for real now? Please tell me you’re a thing for real now. I’m seventeen years old. I think I should be entitled to my own bedroom.”
“You can have your own bedroom,” I say. “You better not be sneaking dudes in the window, though.”
“You’re such a cock-block,” she teases. “How come you get to have all the fun?”
Chapter 27
Helena:
Of course, after last night, things are extra complicated down at the police station. I’m living a lie, and it feels kind of good because I know in my heart I’m doing the right thing.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself over and over as I force myself through this day with a toothy smile on my face, trying to avoid eye contact with “Gene,” trying not to reach over Chief Sanderson’s desk and choke him out myself for being such a huge piece of shit, and likely a murderer. That’s not my place though. Definitely not my right. The more I stare at him, the more disgusted I become. That his bloated and liver-spotted mug was the last thing Esther saw before she was gunned down makes me want to throw up.
So I’ll keep living this lie. Not letting anyone on the force know that I’m in love with the baddest biker of them all, the president of the Mountain Misfits MC, or that he loves me, too. I spend the day splitting my daydreaming between the moment we get to put this asshole behind bars, and the future that Brooks and I have to look forward to when we finally can put this all behind us.
By the time I get home from work this afternoon, Brooks already has the kitchen island covered in boxes full of paperwork. He greets me with a kiss on the lips as his hand travels down my back, resting directly on my ass. I can’t say I’m such a ‘great person’ that the thought didn’t cross my mind that finding out who killed Esther might actually drive us further apart.
I can’t say that I haven’t battled with a strange twinge of jealousy, knowing that I will never be his first love, as he truly is mine. In those instances, it’s hard not to hate myself. I feel so petty thinking that I could even remotely entertain the idea of being jealous of a dead woman.
Then he kisses me, touches me, tells me how much he cares about me… and I feel even worse. Like I am a horrible insecure monster ready to destroy the very thing we’ve worked so hard for. He didn’t ask for any of this. All he did was love his woman. Just like he’s doing now. Digging around in the past hurts, but it’s the only way. For Esther, and for him. And likely for me, too.
It’s hard always trying to come off as secure and confident. I’ve been battling my insecurities since the day I got here, hiding the fact that I really do need some sort of validation.
“What is all this?” I ask, thumbing through the boxes of file folders.
“I have no idea,” he says, shrugging. “Apparently there was a lot I didn’t know about her. I never pried in the ranch. That was her thing. She was a really smart business woman. Always wanted the club to go as legit as possible. Guess the place pretty much was, aside from the fact that you still can’t sell pussy in the state of Pennsylvania.”
“You always said she gave girls a safe place to work so they weren’t out on the streets. Guess knowing what we know now, that probably was a lot more significant than we thought. She gave girls a place to work so she didn’t have to worry about them being trafficked or sold, so she and the club could protect them from the really evil stuff.”
“It blows my mind,” he says. “I’m not mad. I know everything she did in her life was for the club. I’m just confused. We got away with a lot of shit. How much you think the FBI knows?”
“I’m going to tell you this as your girlfriend,” I say, looking at him with seriousness and concern in my eyes. I might be a cop when the rest of the force is around, or even Dean, but he needs to know exactly where I stand on this whole situation. “Assume they know nothing. Act like they know nothing. No good is going to come from you offering up shit that is irrelevant. We’re going to get Chief Sanderson, but I don’t want him having any reason to come after you and take you away from me. I need you. Josie needs you. Your club needs you.”
I thumb through the file folders, pulling out glossy headshots of former employees, pay stubs, and taxes as he watches me. “Are there any girls who worked at the club who might be problematic? Anyone with a bone to pick who might end up giving you guys shit if the pressure is put on them?” I ask, laying out the folders in front of him.
“You’re really doing this?” he asks, a confused smirk on his face. “Can’t we just kill that fat fucker and call it a day?”
“Let’s be realistic here,” I say, flipping open the folders so he can see all the girls who had ever worked at the ranch. “I’ll do my best to make sure you get some alone time w
ith him. But you kill him now, and everyone you know is in for a shit storm like you could never imagine. Now tell me which one of these folders I need to burn, and hurry up.”
“You’re really sexy when you’re up to no good,” he laughs, tousling his fingers through my hair, pressing his lips to my cheek.
“And you’re really sexy when you’re not being held in a room and interrogated by the FBI for shit that some stripper might have witnessed you or any of your brothers doing.”
Both of us jump as the front door swings open and promptly slams. I’m relieved when I catch a whiff of Olive’s fruity perfume and hear her and Josie giggling in the living room. I hadn’t had a chance yet to tell Brooks that she was going to help, although I’m sure he won’t mind.
She looks like a pinup model, her blonde hair curled meticulously and tucked in a bright red bandana, a tight matching polka dot tank top accentuating her giant breasts. I can’t believe she birthed a child out of that body. She makes me feel like something that crawled out from under a rock in comparison. Brooks doesn’t look at her like he looks at me, though. The man could have any woman he wanted, even the gorgeous, kind, brilliant, Olive, and he picked me. It makes me swoon.
“Hey, gorgeous,” she says, her high heels clicking on the kitchen tile. “What are we doing here?”
“Destroying evidence,” I say, laughing nervously.
“For real?” Her eyes are the size of saucers. “I knew the day I met this girl she was going to be fun. Brooks, you picked a winner.”
“You knew the girls who worked at the club pretty well? I need you to tell me which ones were cool. Just in case. We need to show employment records, but I don’t want anyone getting questioned that might be problematic.”
She studies the head shots, pointing at pictures. “No, no… definitely not…” She picks up Jasmine’s and I try not to shudder. “I know you’re not going to like this, but this girl is ride or die. She’d do anything for the club. She’d do anything for Esther.”
“I am totally fine by that,” I say, only lying a little bit. I know I have nothing to worry about, and I know in the end I got the man, so I need to suck it up and do what’s right. She didn’t do anything wrong, anyway. I grab Gina Sanderson’s photo and mix it in with the lot.
“Gina?” Olive crinkles up her nose. “She was the shadiest of them all. The only reason why Esther took her in was so that she’d stop harassing customers at my bar. I never liked that girl.”
“Neither did I,” I say, “but I have a feeling we’re going to need her on our team. If her old man really did kill Esther, I’m sure she knows something.”
“What?” Olive stammers. Her eyes start twitching, and she’s moving her lips but nothing is coming out. “Holy shit.” She slaps her hands over her face and starts to cry. “I’m such a fucking idiot. It all makes perfect sense now. That fucking cunt.”
“Hey,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. “Everything is going to be alright. Anything you know about her, you make sure you really drill that in when Dean gets here. That ‘fucking cunt’ might be our saving grace.”
“How were we all so blind for so long?” Brooks growls, knocking a box of papers onto the floor in frustration. “How did we not make the connection?”
“You guys were grieving,” I say. “You lost your best friend. Your sister. Your wife. And the people who are supposed to protect you and do right are the very ones who let you down. It’s sick. It makes me ashamed to even call myself a cop.” I try to reminisce about all the amazing police officers I’ve worked with in the past, all my friends from North Carolina, and the honorable men and women who helped me through police academy, but right now, all I can see is Chief Sanderson and his personal vendetta, and it makes me feel terrible.
Brooks wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling his head in my neck, making me feel like just maybe everything is going to be alright. “It’s all going to be alright, now, though,” he says.
There’s a knock on the door, and I gulp nervously. “Josie,” I call to her in the living room, “you know how to get rid of this stuff?”
Eager to help as ever, she grabs the box of paperwork that I don’t think Dean needs to see and disappears out the back door. Olive greets him, taking her time to size him up. Brooks and I stare into each other’s eyes, knowing that this is the beginning of the end. Things are about to change around here, for better or for worse.
“Sorry I’m late,” Dean says, as he joins us in the kitchen. “Just had a really interesting development. Looks like we might be able to wrap this up by the end of the weekend if you guys are on board.”
“Anything,” Brooks says. I dig my fingernails into his hand. Not anything. We need to proceed with caution.
“Alright then,” Dean says confidently, setting his laptop up on the counter. “How fast can you guys get the ranch back up and running?”
Chapter 28
Brooks:
“Are we all on the same page here?” I ask, staring down the giant oak table surrounded by my men. For the first time in a long time, I think it’s safe to say that they are. In the course of my life as a Mountain Misfit, we’ve worked with all sorts of gangs, mafias, and cartels, but for the first time in history, we’re going to be working with the FBI.
The plan is simple, too simple, and something in my guts is telling me I’m being way too trustworthy of this Dean asshole, who has supposedly been using my wife as an informant for all these years. Now he’s using my old lady to further his case? And my club?
Still, it’s the only way. It’s the only way I can protect my patch, my woman, and my family from a life in prison. We’re going to throw the party of a lifetime, and then we’re all going to lay low for as long as it takes.
“I’ll start making phone calls,” Heat says. “Make sure all the chapters know about the change of venue.”
This weekend, the entire mountain will be covered in bikers from every chapter of the Misfits from all over the state. We haven’t hosted a rally here since my dad was alive, but now’s as good a time as any. Safety in numbers. Four hundred men and women from all over gathering together to help finally put Esther to rest. Brothers from far and wide, many of whom we’ve never met. It doesn’t matter. They’re still one of us. We’d do the same for them.
“Me and Amber are getting the girls together,” Micah says. His wife, Amber, a former dancer at the club, knows exactly how to put together a show that people will be talking about for the rest of their lives.
“Guess that means I just need to track down the star of the fucking show.” I tip back my beer and stand up from the table, patting Gavin on the back. “Come on, bud. You’re coming with me.”
“I don’t feel like dealing with that crack hoe,” he says. “She gives me the creeps.”
“Too bad,” I say. I don’t think I’ll be able to face Gina Sanderson on my own without doing something stupid. Sure, I’m wearing a wire, and everyone in the room is well aware, nobody saying a word for once. I don’t hate the silence. It’s a lot easier to get shit done this way.
I want Gavin to come with me, not just because he’s my vice president and best friend I’ve ever had in my life, but because I need to talk to him. Things are getting serious with Helena and I haven’t really sat down to get his opinion. Esther was his sister, too, and even though I’ve got Goob’s blessing, I’ve trusted Gavin with my darkest secrets since we were just kids.
I bang the gavel, and everyone separates like I’m some sort of pariah. Of course I am. Right now, I’m not their president, their lifelong friend, their brother. I’m the guy wearing a wire. It has to be done, though. Has to be done so that we can finally live our lives in peace, not looking over our shoulder constantly. Things are going to change, but when it all comes down to it, it was what our forefathers originally wanted.
“You think I’m doing the right thing?” I ask Gavin as we walk out into the parking lot. He straddles his bike and rolls his eyes at me.
“Now’
s not the time to get soft, brother,” he says, lighting up a cigarette. “You’re the president. You already started doing this thing. Not much we can do about it now.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask. He looks so smug sitting there sneering at me while he exhales a huge cloud of smoke in my face. “You don’t approve?”
“Oh, I completely approve,” he says. “I love everything about it. You know what my granddaddy wanted for this club back when he founded it. You’re the only man who could really bring us to that. Me, Esther, Goob, we come from evil. You’re a good man. Always have been. These last few years have been nothing but change. Every month something blows up in our faces. I want a peaceful life just like the rest of us. I want to put this behind us. I want us Misfits living the life my grandpa wanted for us. The life your dad wanted. Get us out of this shit storm.”
He fires up his engine, sliding his sunglasses down over his eyes and tossing his cigarette butt in the parking lot. “You’re lucky I already got an old lady,” he laughs. “If anybody is meant to be queen of this mountain, it’s Helena. I think Esther would be proud.”
I start my bike, smiling to myself, knowing every word he says is true. I needed to hear it from him. One big thing about Esther was that she always uplifted the women in her life. She always saw the good in every girl, even if they were trying to use her, take advantage of her, or drag her down. She never kicked a woman when they were down, just picked ’em up and helped them fix their crown. Helena’s got that good, too. That goodness, that caring. That ‘something’ that makes you wonder how the fuck a guy like me lucked out twice in his life to get to be surrounded by that.
Esther would definitely be proud.
Sun on my back, wind on my face, we hit the winding dirt road. Gina’s last known address is a trailer not too far from town. I reluctantly park my bike a few blocks away, dramatically pulling my pistol out of my jacket and tucking it in my waistband so that nobody in this sketchy ass ghetto tries to fuck with me. Not in the mood. Soon, we won’t be doing shit like this anymore. For now, I need to let my reputation precede me.