Flick (The Black Sentinels MC Book 4)

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Flick (The Black Sentinels MC Book 4) Page 8

by Victoria Johns


  I lingered in the basement, realizing that this was the only place that held any personality. His personality. Even if it was ordered and stacked like an army colonel might conduct a random inspection at any point. In the corner I noticed a tarp laid over something and my curiosity won out. I tiptoed over like the bricks and mortar would betray me and tell tales and pulled it back, the layer of dust it disturbed caused me to cough and sneeze. Under it was what looked like an army chest. Battered and bruised, like its owner, and on it was a large hand painted stars and stripes, a set of numbers that I assumed was his army number and the simple word, ‘HOPE.’ On the other side were various stickers, the old-fashioned army star, a dagger and a 1950s pin-up girl. I placed a hand on it, like it would release its secrets to my touch. It was cold, almost otherworldly, which in truth was very much like Becket Hope.

  It was locked with a huge padlock. “Dammit!”

  Still curious, I nudged it with my foot, not in the least bit surprised when it didn’t budge an inch.

  “Flick? You here?” His voice came from above me.

  Fuck. Beckett was home and it was an unscheduled visit. I immediately panicked about the sheets I was laundering, he’d go nuts when he discovered clean sheets in his room anyway, but I had expected to have a couple of hours to myself while I came up with a plan. If he came down here and caught me in front of his chest, he might kill me for real.

  Beckett appeared at the top of the basement stairs as I’d finished relaying the tarp over his secret box. “Just doing laundry. Coming.” I normally wouldn’t run to make things easy on him, but I didn’t want to be cornered down here and caught in a lie. The chest under the tarp was now like a flashing beacon of truth.

  At the top of the stairs I found him in a very oily pair of pants. “Ran out of spares in my room at the club. Needed to change.”

  Shit!

  That meant he was going in his bedroom.

  “You okay? You look a little pale.”

  “Uh… don’t usually get daytime visitors.”

  He eyed me cautiously, “Not visiting, live here.”

  “I know that.”

  “You… uh… got someone here?”

  “No!”

  Beckett turned on his boot and flew up the stairs, trying to catch me in my lie, and when I heard. “Flick! Get up here!” I knew he’d discovered my laundry transgression.

  “I’m not some dog you can click your fingers and I’ll come running!” Even though I was on my way, I figured dragging this out wasn’t going to help his mood.

  He was stood in his doorway. “Thought we agreed,” his voiced was strained. “You stay outta my room.”

  “Thought that was just at night, you know when you’re… uh…”

  “Didn’t realize I needed to put a fucking clock on it.”

  That pissed me off. I was trying to be nice; he worked all day and what I’d done was something good. “It wasn’t like I kicked a puppy.”

  “Back to being a bitch then,” he mumbled.

  “Still an asshole then,” I threw back.

  I saw the moment his mood switched and while I wasn’t scared and I knew I’d overstepped, there was no way on God’s green earth I was backing down.

  “Let’s see how you like it then.”

  He pushed me out of the doorway and marched off. “Beckett! What the fuck! It was just sheets, and I was only washing them to help out.” He threw open the door to my room and stomped to my bed, picking up the quilt and stripping the sheet off within seconds.

  “Beckett, stop! You’re being unreasonable.” The crazy man ignored me and pulled the sheet off my mattress with so much force, it dislodged the mattress and fell back to the bed off center.

  “No! Stop!” I started to pull at the back of his t-shirt, but he shrugged me off with little effort as one of the pillows hit the floor, and the minute he picked up the second I wanted to crawl under a rock and die from embarrassment.

  “You see, this is why we respect each other’s space.” When I looked back at him, he was standing there pointing at me with my black stallion vibrator.

  “Put it down!” I screeched.

  “Never took you for a girl who’d favor something this size.” When he waved it this time, he dislodged the button and it started rotating like a spinning top. “Jesus!” He dropped it to the floor —where it proceeded to move of its own accord — and howled with laughter. “You gonna turn it off or will it hunt you down until it’s been satisfied?”

  I hit the deck, grabbed it and silenced it. The only thing left to be heard was my breathing and Beckett still chuckling under his breath. “Just leave.”

  “I’m wondering if I’d come home earlier if I’d have caught you, you know…” He waggled his brows, which just sent furrowed lines up into his scalped head.

  “Don’t be disgusting.” I picked up a pillow, put my stallion on the bed and then hid it with the pillow, like that would erase the last few minutes of my life.

  Unfortunately, he’d sensed my shame and outrage and was in a familiar zone. The ‘tease Flick’ zone, he’d so often operated in back in the day. “That what it take to get you going? Have you ever had a real man?”

  I was pretty sure my head might explode. “Your turn, fucker, let’s see what you’re hiding.”

  His face changed and he squinted, daring me to even try. Never one to back down from a challenge, I turned and bolted for his room. “Flick! Don’t you fucking dare!”

  I felt him close behind me. I knew there was nothing in his bed, I’d already invaded that territory and it was currently on a wash cycle downstairs, so I fell to my knees and dived for underneath it. I was just about to get my hands on the simple solitary shoebox, tucked against the far side, when I was dragged from underneath it. “Beckett!”

  I kicked hard and tried to grab anything for purchase when he warned, “Behave.”

  “Let. Me. Go.”

  He’d managed to pull me full across the floor by my ankles and while I hated that I’d been thwarted, I had made a discovery, something he didn’t want me to get into.

  At the last minute he flipped me over and straddled me. My top had scrunched up and he loomed over me while my bra-covered breasts were on show.

  God! I wished I’d worn a fancy bra. God, I wished I had bigger breasts!

  “Get off of me!” I bucked underneath him.

  “Settle.” I started to slap and push this time, while he fought to grab my wrists, before pinning them by my side. In an instant our faces were inches apart as our exertion became evident, our chests rising and falling. “I should make surprise visits home more often,” he grinned.

  I bucked again. “Move, Beckett.”

  “Settle.” He swallowed and his voice dropped an octave. “You have no idea what this is doing to me.”

  I looked at him horrified and he burst out laughing. The glare I gave him should have melted the skin off his face.

  “Hello?” The voice of a savior shouted from downstairs. It was Malia.

  “Coming,” I shouted back and grit my teeth. “Move before she comes looking.” As soon as he eased up just a fraction, I took advantage, threw him off and bolted downstairs.

  “Hi.” Malia took one look at my disheveled state, including clumps of hair no longer contained in my ponytail holder, a crumpled shirt and my general puffy, out of breath state and boy, did she smile.

  “Have I interrupted something?”

  As I was about to say no, Beckett appeared behind me, buttoning up clean pants and carrying his work boots. I was going to kill him.

  “I have interrupted something,” Malia surmised, jumping to completely the wrong conclusion, but who could blame her when faced with this sort of evidence.

  “This isn’t—”

  “What’s up, Mal?” Beckett stepped over and cut me off, when I looked at his face, he could barely contain his mirth, he knew exactly what he was doing. I was absolutely going to kill him.

  “Girls’ night at the clubhous
e.”

  “Oh, sorry.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Kids.”

  “I’ve got the kids covered…” he paused then added, “baby.” Then he really had to hold back a guffaw at my glare. Killing Beckett wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy me.

  “Great!” Malia seemed genuinely pleased. “Consider it a job interview. We’ve an opening for an office manager, legal eagle, organizer, and general person to keep the rest of us in ship shape. Catch you later.”

  I froze as she was walked out. I didn’t want to go out on girls’ night with these women. They terrified me, they were a group of close-knit females and that never went well for me, but I wanted and needed a job more.

  Beckett followed her out of the door and all I could do was whisper shout, “Asshole!” after him, which was also met with hilarity. But then I realized he was laughing and I wasn’t used to this phenomenon, he was usually such a closed-off, grumpy guy.

  In fact, I’d never seen him laugh so much, well not since we were kids and like just back then, it was totally at my expense.

  Shadow

  “Aunty Flick is going out tonight, kiddos. So, we’re gonna have some fun.” Lila squealed with excitement. Seriously, that kid would cheer over boiled vegetables and manage to find the upside. Ben looked concerned. I wasn’t sure whether that was over Flick going out alone or being left with me.

  “I don’t have to go,” she said, trying to placate Ben.

  “Yeah, you do. We’re dropping you at the clubhouse and then heading off for our own fun.”

  She harrumphed at having the option of staying removed. She was cute when she sulked, nearly as cute as when she was angry. Our little play fight earlier had been unexpected, and I was still sporting wood when I got back to the autoshop.

  “What kind of girls’ night happens at the place where the men work?”

  “One where the girls in attendance know their men would go gonzo if they partied too hard in front of other guys.”

  “Still sounds dumb,” she mumbled.

  “What’s dumb about keeping the peace, staying out of unnecessary situations, and free drinks?”

  Flick stopped and didn’t argue.

  “Go get dressed.”

  “I am dressed!” she snapped.

  “Then go and get more dressed up, and pretty for your night out.”

  “Yeah! Pretty like a princess!” Lila squealed, never letting me down, no doubt imagining a crown and fairy dust. Christ, the kid was cute, and her innocence level was off the charts, just like her mom before she grew tits, developed hormones, discovered boys, and eventually got knocked up by a loser who shot through. She’d let him come back after he left her high and dry with Ben as a newborn, only for it to happen again, and surprise surprise, the stork delivered Lila.

  Flick skulked off, no doubt cursing me to hell, which only made this game of cat and mouse much more fun.

  “Where are we going, Uncle Beckett?” Ben asked.

  “Over to Gears’ house, he’s lives in a cool place, so we’re gonna have some snacks, kick a football, and maybe go find some fun in the forest.”

  “That doesn’t sound like princess kind of fun.” Lila’s bottom lip dropped, and she attempted to fold her arms, although didn’t quite pull it off.

  “There’ll be girl fun too, Uncle Gears’ girl Ella is going to be there, and she mentioned something about nail polish.”

  Lila’s eyes bugged out. “Really?”

  “And maybe that messy stuff you girls put on lips.” Pulling a disgusting face, I faked being dumb.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Lipstick!” She flew out of her chair and landed on me, her chubby arms wrapped around my neck, and squeezed. My heart jolted and skipped a beat, reminding me it was there and still very much functional. My brother Gears had a lot of space. Gigi had inherited a whole lot of land and a house when her fucked-up family finally died. It worked because Geraldine was there as well as Ella, so the kids had extra cover and Gears could play taxi service to get all the girls home safely. Wolf was always pretty insistent that Angel party where he could get his hands on her. That one was wild, and her form of wild meant he’d either end up beating the piss out of some guy, or she would. When Angel ventured out it was anyone’s guess which of them would end up cooling off behind bars for the night. There was also no better training for prospects than serving the rowdy old ladies cocktails and tequila and figuring out when to cut them off and when to call for back up. It was a test many failed, but only once.

  “You look preddy,” Lila whispered to the space behind me and I felt my dick swell in my pants in anticipation.

  Flick had let her hair down and done something with it so it looked roughed up, like she’d just been held down and fucked. She’d put makeup on, red lips and thick stuff on her eyelashes that reminded me of when we were teenagers. She had on skin-tight jeans that I had no idea how she was breathing in, knee-high boots that I wanted her to wear without the jeans, but with just the hair and red lips. But it was her top. Sheer. Fucking see-through and giving me a perfect view of her bra.

  I did a double take.

  No fucking way.

  “Ben, watch your sister a minute.” I turned my eyes to Flick. “A word.” I walked off to the bottom of the staircase hoping like fuck she was behind me, I didn’t want the kids to see me drag her out, possibly kiss her, and definitely grope her. “You’re wearing that?”

  Flick looked down. “Not fancy enough? I knew it.” She made it up three stairs, and it was a few seconds before I snapped out of the trance I’d fallen in just from looking at her, and pulled her back down.

  “You own anything… you know… less?”

  “Less what?” She looked confused.

  “Well, less… that.” I waved my hand in her general direction. “And maybe more, you know… longer, baggier, think potato sack.”

  Flick snorted. “What I wear is nothing to do with you.” Like Lila did earlier, she crossed her arms across her chest, which did nothing to help my hardening dick, because unlike Lila, she managed to do it and it only succeeded in presenting her tits to me for closer inspection.

  “Uh, yeah, it does, you’re a… Beckett representative.” How fucking stupid did I sound? But I shook that off as I still couldn’t drag my eyes from her tits.

  “A what?”

  “You heard me. And it’s a job interview.” I was really clutching at straws now.

  “I think I’ll be fine for that, anyway, if I’m not, maybe they shouldn’t interview people at night and you know,” she leaned in, “at a fucking biker hangout.” As usual, she’d flipped her mood into gear and was approaching pissed off and irate, and that really wouldn’t do. No, not with her looking like that and my dick appreciating every damn part of it. “Look, just spit it out, what’s wrong with it, and be warned, I don’t need to be anymore pissed off than I am now, I’ve got an interview.” She smirked.

  “Well… I can see the fucking label on your bra. That top is see-through.”

  Flick on instinct looked over her shoulder. “Shit. Really?”

  “Not that fucking label, the one hanging between your tits.” I could see that clearly, that amongst other things. It was a little oval shaped gold disc.

  “Oh, that’s fine, you’re supposed to be able to see that, it’s designer.”

  “That doesn’t make it fine,” I ground out.

  “And it cost a lot of money.”

  “Still not fine.”

  “Are we ready to go?” she challenged.

  “Fuck—” I had to do it, “—I can see your goddamn nipples.” I gulped, and she smiled at me.

  “I know, shame we’re not going to a real club, my black stallion is becoming a bit familiar. Kids, let’s move! Uncle Beckett is ready.”

  Shocked. She shocked me to my core, and she’d always had that ability too.

  By the time the kids joined us, I was still dumbfounded in the hallway, wondering where all my power as man of the house, king of the species, you
know, leader of the human fucking race, had gone.

  I didn’t look at her as she tottered off, her pink fucking nipples were already burned into my retinas, and I didn’t need to add the visual of her ass to it. If any of the single brothers decided to have a night out at the compound, I was fucked. Things were just settling down and I’d fight them to keep that balance in my home life too.

  We pulled up at Gears and Gigi’s place and Geraldine was already waiting for Lila. “Girls, this way,” she invited dramatically, and my niece and her fluffy unicorn happily followed.

  “Ready, kid?” I looked at Ben who still seemed on edge and led him around the side. Round there my brothers and their male offspring were already involved in a light-hearted game of touch football. “Come on, let’s go show them how us Hopes kick ass at ball.”

  A ghost of a smile curved his lips and I prayed that maybe this was a breakthrough, he’d been far too isolated and closed off my liking.

  An hour later, after many laughs, pretend arguments and touchdowns the game was declared a victory for the Hopes. I high-fived Ben and knew this had been a good idea. It was probably the first time he’d acted his age since his mother’s death.

  “Go chill with the other kids,” I wheezed, desperate for a cold beer. Ben looked uncertain. “They’ll be cool. Promise; they’re our family too.” His eyes instantly closed down, which was disappointing. I got down on my haunches and pulled his ass to the ground. “Let’s talk first. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ben, don’t lie to me, let’s be straight with one another, okay?”

  He nodded. “How long will we be living with you?” He blurted it out in a rushed breath and I immediately understood what the problem was, his hesitancy to live life; Ben was afraid this was temporary.

  “As long as you want to, but in case you’re wondering, I hope that’s a real long time.”

  “You didn’t say that after the funeral.”

  The kid was right; I didn’t.

  “Listen, it was all a shock. I’ve been used to looking after only me for a long time and I wasn’t entirely sure your Aunty Flick wanted to share you.” Ben looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to carry on and dispel his fears. “We share the same name, you’re my blood. Wherever I am, you’ll always have a place there. You and Lila.”

 

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