by Sam Crescent
It was a complete contrast to being in O’Klaren’s house.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. It says to cook it for ten minutes. This is so wrong.”
He rounded the corner and found the woman who had completely turned his life upside down. She looked close to tears as she looked into a saucepan.
“What have you burned this time?” he asked.
She looked up. “Garlic. How can this be so difficult? It says to cook it for ten minutes.”
He walked into the kitchen glancing at the cookbook she’d borrowed from the library and laughed. “Have another look.”
She looked. “Look, ten minutes, it says it right there.”
“Does it?”
She looked again and her shoulders slumped. “Crap.”
“I’m not going to lie, it’s cute you thinking you cook garlic for ten minutes, but that’s the onion. Why haven’t you chopped the onion?”
“I don’t know, because I can’t cook and I’m a total loser.” She put her head in her hands. “I’m never going to be able to cook you a good meal.”
“I don’t need you cooking me a meal,” he said, pulling her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest.
“Don’t you want some food to come home to? I know the club is always crazy, and you can’t be eating good food.” She lifted her head. “I want to be good to you.”
He ran his fingers up and down her back. “You’ll always be good for me, baby. Always. There’s no way you can’t be good for me, but burning food is not going to work.”
“You’ve taught me the basics, and I’ve been doing okay on that front.”
He wrinkled his nose. “No, you haven’t. You burn toast and porridge. Not to mention your pasta is always crunchy and don’t get me started on your rice. You’re not a very good cook.”
Her lip pouted, and he laughed. “You know what that pout does to me?”
She shook her head. “No, not a clue.”
He kissed her lips, and she slid her hands up his chest.
“What about now?”
“Not completely.”
He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue across her lips, and she let out a gasp. “What about now?”
“I’m getting there.”
“I think of those lips wrapped around my cock.” Her cheeks went a nice shade of red. “Do you want me to call it a penis?”
“Stop mocking me.”
“Oh, believe me there is no mocking here. I’m appreciating you.” He pressed her against the counter, removing the pan from the stove so the garlic didn’t burn anymore. “Do you think you’d want to do that?”
“Suck your cock?”
“Now who is speaking dirty?”
“You like it when I do.”
“You’ve got that right.” He lifted her up on the counter, and through her shirt, he kissed each tit.
She went to push off his jacket, but he had to stop her. “I can’t stay.”
“Why not?”
“You have got the most sexy pout. I’ve got to go and deal with some shit. I want you to stay here. Do you know where Bishop is?”
“He was at the clubhouse. We really need to tell him. I hate arguing with him. I don’t argue. He yells at me about how much of a cock tease I’m being. I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up.”
“Don’t worry, one day soon we’ll handle Bishop and Bear.”
“I’m nervous.”
“There won’t be a reason to. You’re my woman, baby, and I’ll take care of you.”
“You’ve always taken care of me.”
He kissed her again, wanting nothing more than to strip her naked and love every inch of her body. He loved it when his name fell from her lips. He truly couldn’t get enough. Nipping at her lips, he was tempted to forget about O’Klaren just to feel her wrapped around his dick.
“What the fuck is this?”
He pulled away, and there at the entrance of the kitchen was Bishop.
His son looked like what he’d seen disgusted him.
Robin jumped off the counter, but he didn’t let her go out in front. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen. One look at Bishop, and he wanted to curse. He shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid when it came to letting his son alone.
“What? You? Robin? What the fuck?” Bishop yelled. “Tell me this isn’t what I think?”
“Bishop, please, don’t overreact.”
“Overreact? I just saw you locking lips with my dad. Are you going to tell me I’m seeing things?”
“No, you saw right.”
His cell phone went off, and Preacher cursed.
“Oh, that’s a surprise. You’re screwing my wife and the club calls so you can run on out of here.”
“If you’re trying to tell me I’m a coward, you’re fucking wrong. Yes, I’m fucking Robin. She’s mine, but I don’t have time to deal with this shit. I need you to stay here.”
“Fuck you.”
Preacher grabbed Robin, moving her behind him as Bishop threw a knife. It missed him, but he wasn’t going to stand that.
He advanced toward his son, but Bishop seeing his intent, rushed out of the house. Preacher looked at his son, and he hadn’t wanted it to end like this.
Running a hand down his face, he heard Robin behind him.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“You’re going to lock the doors, stay here, and if he comes back, try to talk to him. Bishop won’t hurt you.”
“He threw a knife. Do you really need to go? We should do this together. What if he tells my dad? Oh, no,” she said.
He cupped her face, making her look at him. “Stop. You don’t need to worry about your father. I’ll deal with everything. I’ve been dealing with all of this shit for a long time now. Trust me, and don’t let this shit with Bishop upset you.” He kissed her head. “I’ve got to go. I know you don’t want me to, but I have to do this.”
“Why can’t it wait?”
“Club business will never wait.”
“But he’s your son.”
“I don’t care. It’s not going to wait. He’s always gotten what he wanted, but it’s not going to happen now.” He kissed her again. “Get in the house. Lock the door. Do as you’re told.”
She didn’t argue with him, and he waited to leave until he knew for sure she was safe and locked in the house.
Once she was, he climbed behind the wheel and took off, heading toward the bar where Bear had said O’Klaren wanted to leave.
This would only work if he got O’Klaren now. There was a small opportunity to get him. Arriving at the bar, he climbed out, waiting. The car engine was still running.
Reaching into the back of the car, he found the metal pipe he wanted. The owner of the bar hated O’Klaren. The cop had taken advantage of an old drug charge on his sheet to get free beer and to cause trouble.
It would seem wherever O’Klaren went, he left destruction in his wake. The squeaky-clean cop his papers had portrayed was in fact so far from the truth. The man didn’t know clean. He didn’t know how to be a good cop.
The door to the bar opened, and O’Klaren stepped out with Joanne by his side. She was struggling to play her part.
O’Klaren’s grabby hands were wandering all over her body, and she clearly didn’t want them.
Clearing his throat, Preacher drew O’Klaren’s attention toward him.
“Now, look what we have here,” he said. “Do you see this piece of shit? He really thinks he’s something, but I can promise you, he’s nothing but a bug. Someone I’m more than happy to squash.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To get rid of me,” Preacher said. “You know when I first heard about you, I was wondering if I’d be able to handle you. How I was going to deal with another cop breathing down my fucking neck. I mean, your entire resume was painted as to how amazing you are, but the truth is, you’re not perfect. You’re a piece of shit.”
“What are you going to do with that pipe?” O’Klaren
asked.
Preacher lifted it up. “I’m going to bash your face with it. You see, O’Klaren, you’ve made a lot of enemies. So many enemies in fact that a lot of people can’t stand to be around you. Not that I blame them. I wouldn’t want to be around someone like you either. Now all those times you’ve hurt others, it’s coming back to bite you in the ass. I finally figured it out, you see. They didn’t just send you here to take me out. You’re not here on any special mission. I was happy for you to play the asshole on a pedestal, but you had to go and hurt her, and now, I can’t let you get away with it.” Joanne moved, and he swung the pipe, hitting O’Klaren across the face. “Before you die, you’re going to be in a lot of pain. Pain caused by me, and you are going to pray long and hard you never tried to take me out.”
He hit him again, this time, knocking the son of a bitch out cold.
“Can I go back to the clubhouse now and take a shower? I don’t think I can stand to have his drool on me. He’s disgusting.”
“Head back,” Preacher said. “Bishop’s upset about something. Let me know if you hear from him.”
“What’s he upset about?” she asked.
“Nothing to concern yourself with. Just know, he’s not happy and leave it at that,” he said. He looked toward Bear. “You’re coming with me, right?”
“Yeah, of course. Do I need to send some boys to handle your boy?”
He shook his head. “Bishop will come around in his own good time.” He bent down, grabbing O’Klaren’s shoulders. Together, they dumped him in the trunk of his car. For now, he didn’t need Bear thinking about his daughter or Bishop. He had to get his head in the game.
****
After phoning the clubhouse and discovering Bishop wasn’t there, Robin tried his cell phone number, but he didn’t pick up.
She was nervous.
What if he went straight to Bear?
Pacing the length of the house, she’d long washed up the dishes. There was no point in even attempting to make any food.
Preacher wouldn’t be home, and she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, not with worrying about Bishop or where he was.
“Where are you?”
She tried his cell phone again, only for it to go straight to voicemail.
Slumping down on the sofa, she closed her eyes. She hated Bishop finding out that way. She couldn’t think of a worse way of telling her best friend.
Checking the time, she saw he’d been gone two hours already.
Getting to her feet, she started to pace again. All she could do was pace.
“Where would you go if not the clubhouse?”
He’d taken his bike, so the only logical explanation was the fact he’d gone for a ride.
She walked into the kitchen and poured herself some old coffee. She put it in the microwave to warm it up.
If Preacher was gone all night, she wanted to be awake for when Bishop finally arrived home. Not that she’d have the first clue as to what to say to him.
How could she talk to Bishop about what was going on between her and his father? None of it made sense, not even to her.
She sipped at her coffee as she heard the unmistakable sound of a bike arriving home.
“Bishop?”
She rushed toward the window and the floodlight Preacher installed was on. Rain had started to pour down, but she didn’t care. Without grabbing a jacket, she opened the door and saw Bishop, straddling his bike. The light at the front glowed forward.
“Bishop,” she said.
He looked toward her but didn’t get off.
Stepping out of the house, she walked down the small set of steps, and rushed toward him. “What are you doing?”
“What does it matter to you? How long has it been going on?”
“Come inside and we’ll talk about this. It’s wet.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I want to know how long you and my father have been lying to me.”
“We haven’t been lying to you, Bishop,” she said.
“You’ve been having sex behind my back.”
“Look, it wasn’t supposed to be this way. Preacher had business—”
“So it’s Preacher now? I’m surprised you’re not calling him Caleb or Mr. Keats.”
“You don’t have to be this way,” she said. She didn’t want to argue with him.
“What are you to him? His whore?”
She shook her head.
“When did it happen?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“A couple of weeks ago? You mean to tell me you’ve been screwing my dad right under my nose and I haven’t even known about it?”
“We haven’t been screwing.”
“What do you do? Make love? Is that it? You’ve been making love to my dad? I’m sorry if I wasn’t saying the right words you needed to hear. Have you been making love to my father all the time?”
“No!” She yelled the word. “I get it. You’re angry. Hell, I even know you have a right to be angry, but I never wanted this to happen. I never led you on, Bishop.”
“We’re married.”
“In a marriage I didn’t want. You can blame me, by all means, blame me. It might even do you good to point the finger at me and tell me what a horrible, disgusting person I am for falling for your dad. You think I don’t know how weird this is?”
“The first time, were you drugged?”
She wanted to slap him. “Yes. How can you even ask me that?”
“Forgive me, but if you were forced to sleep with him, why are you so happy to go and kiss him now?” Bishop climbed off his bike. “Look at that. You’re my wife. You belong to me. You were supposed to be mine, and instead you’ve been going behind my back with my dad.”
“And what about all the women you’ve been with, huh? Are you forgetting about them? I’m supposed to just put out for you and deal with the fact your dick could be a rotting thing because of how many women you were with? The first time I was with your dad, Milly drugged me. I don’t remember most of it. I only recall the morning after and vague flashes of memory of what happened. The second time was the night of the party. The one where you disappeared, and I watched you. You were more interested in getting your dick wet than being with me. Why are you so angry with me? We weren’t together.”
“Because you were supposed to be mine. You’re the one thing my father couldn’t have, but he’s got it anyway. You’re my wife, and I was willing to give you everything.”
“No, Bishop. You were willing to marry me and for me to give my child over to your dad. You couldn’t handle what had happened. You and I, we’re not supposed to be together.”
“I love you.”
She sighed. “No, you don’t.”
“So now you’re an expert on love?” he asked.
“I’m no expert, and I don’t claim to be either, Bishop. I wish there was something more I could tell you, I really do, but I can’t tell you lies. I know I love you, I do, but I’m not in love with you. Just like you don’t love me. If you did, you wouldn’t go hunting for all the women.”
“I’m a man, Robin. It’s what I need. It’s what we do.”
“Your dad doesn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You know the truth. He doesn’t go sleeping with every woman who will look his way. He’s been loyal to me since finding out I was pregnant with his baby. You can hate me. I will accept that. You’ll always be my best friend and I will always care about you, but I will never love you. I can’t love you.” She stepped up close to him but didn’t lay a finger on him. “We haven’t told my father yet.”
“Do you love him?”
“What? My dad?”
“No, Preacher? My dad. Do you love him?”
She opened her mouth, closed it again, and smiled. “I honestly don’t know.”
Bishop opened up his jacket and pulled something out of one of the inside pockets. She didn’t get a clear look at it.
He held it up to the light. It was th
e gold wedding band. “Is this why you left it outside of my door?”
“I didn’t think you’d seen it.”
“I had, but I didn’t realize it was your wedding ring.”
“I hope you know I didn’t want to hurt you. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Bishop. You’ve got to see this is wrong between us. You and I, we weren’t going to work.”
Bishop didn’t say anything for the longest time. He stood, the rain pelting down all around them, and she waited.
She didn’t know what to expect, but he finally looked up.
“You know, I’m not going to ever understand what you see in him. He’s older than you, and it’s just gross.” She laughed. “But, if you love him, like, really love him, then I know I can stand back. I don’t have a choice because I don’t get to have you. I will never get the chance to have you.”
“Well, isn’t this a touching scene.”
Robin tensed up, and Bishop grabbed her, pulling her close.
Out of the shadows of the house, she saw the man she recognized. He wore a leather cut detailing his leadership of another club.
Reaper.
He looked scary, deadly, and he stared at her.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Bishop said. “Get the fuck off my father’s land.”
“You know, Preacher and I, we go way back. A really long way, actually. I know a great deal about the bastard who owns this town and his club. I’ve never known him to be sloppy, and right now, he’s going to pay for thinking about revenge more than keeping the one thing he cares about safe.”
She hated the way Reaper looked at her.
“You have no idea what my father will do if you hurt us.”
“You, I don’t think he’d bother so much, but don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt her. I’ve got big plans for her, and you see, I can’t pass an opportunity to get one up on the old cocksucker.”
Robin looked around the yard to see not one but many bikers. None of them wore the Twisted Monsters’ patch. They were all part of Reaper’s club.
They were surrounded.
“Bishop,” she said. “You need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving you.” He held onto her arm, and she heard Reaper’s laugh.
“You’ve got to give the boy credit. He really doesn’t know when he’s not wanted. I mean, why would you even let her get away with it? Forgive me for eavesdropping, but this chick gets knocked up by your father, carries his baby until she loses it, and then shacks up with him anyway. How can you even think of protecting her? Why put yourself in any danger at all? She’s not worth it. She’ll never be worth it. Take it from a guy who knows a thing or two about women, son, she doesn’t love you. She’s using you, and I bet she’s using your father as well.”