by D. A. Young
Ransom grabbed her by the elbow and turned her to face him. It was like looking through a kaleidoscope for Billy as she tried to focus on his face through the myriad of tears that fell. Ransom kissed them away as he confessed in a tormented voice.
“You have no concept of the power you hold over me, do you? That gorgeous smile of yours alone can bring me to my knees. You. Consume. Me. I can’t escape you, awake or in my dreams, and I don’t want to, Billy. You think I don’t want you with me? Jesus, baby, I want to chain you to me and never let you go! But you’re not old lady material; you’re so much more than that! You’re diamonds and silk, not chrome and leather!”
“Because the thought of you and me is really such an impossibility?!” Billy pulled away from him again, offering a bittersweet smile. “It’s not that hard a concept, Ransom. You just have to want it bad enough.”
Again, she was reminded of Melody’s advice when she came home complaining that Ms. Parson, her middle school theater director, had given the ladybug role in the “James and The Giant Peach” play to Billy’s friend Sia Daniels instead of her. She begged Melody to speak to the teacher, but her mother refused to when Billy confessed that she hadn’t auditioned for the part because she wanted Sia to remain her friend.
“Always speak your mind, Billy. Keeping your mouth shut to avoid conflict will only create an unnecessary war within you.”
“I want us bad enough, Ransom! We can make this work,” Billy insisted stubbornly. “There might be challenges, but every couple goes through them. This is us, babe. We can do it.”
Billy reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Ransom’s unyielding mouth, raining kisses all over his face. He closed his eyes as those plush lips brushed against his skin, valiantly trying to resist her, the same sentiment had been heavy on his mind and heart. Hadn’t he said the very same thing to himself? They could do this. He’d visit her in California, and she could visit Chatham on her breaks, right? Maybe get some traveling in. Aside from MC rallies in the southwest, Ransom hadn’t done much traveling outside of club business or any traveling by himself. Usually, it was him, Shakes, and…Harley.
Jesus Christ!
What was he thinking?
Presently, things were touchy with Harley. Ransom needed to focus on his twin and getting him straight rather than his own happiness right now. He could still see Angela, clear as day, covered in bruises, bite marks, and the dried blood between her thighs. He’d never be able to forgive himself if this happened to another girl on his watch.
He opened his mouth to tell Billy no, but her tongue slipped in, velvety soft and sweet, and Ransom was a goner. With a muffled curse, he wrapped her in his arms and ravaged her mouth, delving into her honeyed recesses as he lifted her up and walked them to the bed. He lay Billy down. In their haste, her torn meager scraps of lingerie flew over his shoulder while her hands eagerly unbuckled his belt, then jeans. She shoved his pants and boxers down, allowing his dick out to play. Her hot hands wrapped around him as he shirked the Henley off then kicked off his bottoms. Ransom knelt before her, but Billy scrambled to her own knees and bent over him.
“Fucking shit!” he hissed when her pouty lips enveloped the head of his cock. She swirled her tongue around repeatedly, making sure to trail it over the sensitive underside, hungrily lapping up all of his sticky excitement. “Jesus, baby! Don’t stop. Just like that, wildthing.”
Billy loved having Ransom’s dick in her mouth. She also loved the rush of power it gave her to see how deeply affected he was by her. His muscular thighs were like stone underneath her palms, and his breathing was labored as his dick twitched uncontrollably in her mouth. She loved his clean-salty taste and moaned in ecstasy as his arousal flowed onto her tongue. Billy went deeper, wrapping her hand around the base and giving long strokes as she expertly fondled his balls with her other hand. Ransom’s eyes crossed as the vibrations of her happy moans activated the familiar ache in his balls. Billy’s head was bobbing up and down furiously as she suctioned him, and Ransom couldn’t take it anymore.
Grasping her face, he stilled her movements and slowly eased her off his throbbing cock. In that moment, he hated himself for teaching her how to pleasure him so well. He also hated the bastard that would come after him who would benefit from her skills. Ransom pulled her up and guided her down on his dick, loving how fucking tight and slick her pussy was. The feeling had intensified with no barrier between them. It was his first time being skin-to-skin, and Ransom knew he’d never want to experience this with anyone else. Immediately, her legs locked around his waist as she rocked slowly on his dick, and he prayed, fervently, to any listening God for control.
Ransom fused their lips together and tasted himself, relishing the unique flavor of their combined salty-sweetness, like caramel on his tongue. Billy’s headscarf had come undone, and he pulled it all the way off, allowing her dark hair to flow freely around them. Ransom couldn’t help the words that poured out of his mouth.
“You belong to me, Billy. No matter how far away you go, that shit won’t ever change. Don’t ever forget that, fancypants.”
Placing her hand over his heart, she whispered, “I love you, Ransom.”
He froze and Billy took over.
“It’s true. I do.” She milked his cock, gliding up and down on him, languidly kissing him and bringing Ransom back to life. “Even if you don’t believe in us. I love you. I love this. I love us.”
Suddenly, Billy found herself on her back and him, balls-deep in her pussy, bottoming out with each stroke. Her nails raked down his back as she wrapped her legs around him and repeatedly whispered “I love yous” in his ear and he countered with “Mine!” in hers repeatedly. Each one grew louder than the last as Ransom rode Billy’s body like a man possessed. He set off a torrent of fireworks within her and relentlessly drove them to an earth-shattering pinnacle.
Ransom held her to him, wishing he could reciprocate her declaration. Billy stared up at the ceiling as numbness invaded her soul, driving away all traces of the sublime pleasure she’d just experienced. Wordlessly, she watched the blades of the fan twirl, not even attempting to close the widening gap between her and Ransom. Normally, after making love, they argued about who performed better, talked, and kissed, which frequently led to more bouts of sex until they passed out.
But not tonight.
The silence was brittle and eerily quiet.
Billy was devastated when she finally realized why.
The fluttering butterflies in her stomach had vanished, taking with them, her hopes of any type of future with Ransom Lawson.
The next morning, Billy awakened to find him already gone. She knew he’d left to meet with his club and that they had a meeting to prepare for at Inferno. A couple of days ago, he promised to take her to Carlsbad after his meeting. That wouldn’t be happening. Not now or ever. Billy shivered, despite the cocooned warmth underneath the covers. Last night, Ransom had curved his body around hers like any other night they fell asleep together. He’d held her to him, reverently kissing the side of Billy’s face, her neck, the slope of her shoulder, making her fall apart with each touch of his lips as he showed her without the actual words that he cared.
Just not enough to take their relationship further than this room.
She was stressed the hell out and physically aching from suppressing the urge to cry nonstop. It was time to cut her losses and go. Billy threw the covers back and went to the bathroom. After brushing her teeth and taking a quick shower, she slipped on a white tank top and fingered the red folkloric skirt with hand-stitched, white eyelet flowers all over it, she’d planned to wear with it. Ransom had purchased it for her in Santa Fe after noticing the way she’d admired it. He’d also arranged to have it delivered to their hotel while they were away at dinner. Thanks to Melody, her daughter had a storage full of clothing for every occasion, vintage, custom-designed, casual, business, formal, and yet, none had ever seemed as precious as this skirt.
To hell with it.
> She’d gone into their agreement eyes wide open. She was entitled to enjoy some of its benefits.
Billy pulled the skirt on. Quickly, she gathered her toiletries from the restroom and dresser. Next, came all of her clothes. Billy searched the tiny closet and underneath the bed for any missed items. She spied Ransom’s plaid shirt from last night balled up in the corner and pulled it out. Billy held it to her face, inhaling his scent and wishing she could take it with her. Instead, she folded it neatly and set it on his pillow. Billy didn’t regret telling Ransom she loved him. Life was too short to not convey the feelings in her heart. She wouldn’t try to convince him to see they were meant for each other if Ransom couldn’t do so on his own. At least Billy could leave with a clear conscience.
Although she did need to do one more thing.
She picked up the phone and placed a call.
“Inferno, Rage speaking.”
Blinking back tears, Billy tried to swallow past the lump of emotions stuck in her throat. “Hey…it’s me.”
“Morning, babygirl! I thought you were coming by last night so I could inspect you,” Marcus joked. “Did you have a good time?”
“It was an eye-opening experience, but everyone was cool.” Billy fiddled with the cord apprehensively. “Listen, I know you’ve got a busy day with the MCs meeting, but I just wanted to tell you that I’m leaving town at noon.”
The lengthy pause on the other end made Billy nervous. “Aren’t you going to say something? This is what you and Lorelai wanted, right?”
Marcus growled his frustration. “It’s not what I want at all, but it does need to happen for your own good, Billy. Can I come by and see you?”
“For my good? What does that even mean?!” Billy implored. “Everything is so cryptic and my mind is spinning trying to decipher the riddles!”
“One day, you’ll understand, babygirl,” Marcus spoke gruffly. “Can I come by?”
“No,” Billy quickly insisted, reminding herself of clean breaks. She’d accomplish what she’d set out to do. If Marcus wanted more, then he knew where to find her. “I just thought I should let you know that I’m going.”
Still, there was a part of her that couldn’t let it go. “Maybe if you happen to get to California—”
But Marcus cut her off. “Ain’t no ‘maybe’ about shit. My daughter lives in California and I plan on visiting her quite often.”
On her end, Billy grinned and tried to play it cool. “I think your daughter would like that very much. Maybe she could send you her schedule, too? It’d make planning your traveling itinerary a little smoother.”
“I’d like that very much. Got a lot of lost time to make up for with her. I need her to understand how important she is to me.” Marcus’s gruff voice softened. “I love you, babygirl.”
“I love you too…Daddy.” Billy needed to go before she started bawling like a baby and changed her mind.“Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Look after him for me please.”
“You want me to pass on any messages?”
Billy pressed her fist to her mouth as her heart and mind waged a vicious war.
Clean break, her conscience reminded her.
She decided to hold on to her dignity. “No; just keep your eye out.”
“Trust me, babygirl. I’m already peeping game on him,” Marcus promised, making her laugh-sob.
“You’re nuts, Daddy. Please tell Lorelai goodbye for me and take care of yourself. Bye.”
“Godspeed, Willamina. Call and keep me posted on your trip home.”
After hanging up with him, Billy grabbed her suitcase and purse and headed for the door. She opened it and was surprised to find she had a visitor.
“Hello, my dear,” Neville Stanton greeted his granddaughter humbly.
“Motherfucker!”
Marcus slammed the phone down on the receiver and steepled his fingers on his desk. His babygirl was leaving just when they were making progress. That was his curse, he thought bitterly.
All the women he loved left him.
Lorelai breezed into the office with a steaming cup of coffee and set it before him. ‘What’s with the sour grapes face?”
Marcus ignored her and the caffeine, reaching instead for the bottle of Jim Bean he kept in his top desk drawer. He poured a liberal amount into a highball and downed the contents in one gulp. Marcus reached for the bottle again, but Lorelai was faster. Holding it out of his reach, she frowned down at him.
“You’re not doing this shit today, Marcus!” she scolded emphatically
“Give me the fucking bottle!” he snarled, holding his hand out expectantly.
“No! I won’t let you go down this road.” Her eyes softened as she grasped his large hand in hers and squeezed it, but he yanked it back, recoiling from her touch. “I need you at your best today. There can be no more mistakes. I let that Claudia shit slide, but any errors today will be unacceptable, and you will find your ass replaced.”
“Don’t you ever threaten me!” Marcus could hardly stand the sight of her right now. “You don’t have to worry about shit. My daughter will be gone today. Her grandfather kept his word and just arrived at the hotel. So, you can quit busting my fucking balls now. She said to tell you bye. From this point on, consider us done.”
“You don’t mean that. Don’t blame me for what you could have prevented. I warned you from the jump not to get too invested, but noooo, you had to go and play “Daddy Daycare”.” Lorelai softened her sharp tone. “Despite the way it seemed, I didn’t dislike Billy. However, she was a distraction we couldn’t afford. Regrettably, those are the sacrifices we make for what we do.”
She was the voice of practicality, but right now, Marcus hated her for it. He hated that he just couldn’t be there for his daughter and spend time with her. For already missing out on so much. Lunging to his feet, he hurled the highball at the closed office door. It shattered instantly as he roared, “Fuck this job!! You think I give that much of a damn about it?! Well, fuck you too, Lorelai!”
Calmly, she set the liquor bottle back on Marcus’s desk and reached for his phone. Eyes deadlocked with his, she dialed a number they both knew by heart.
The voice on the other end was crisp, and to the point, just like the man himself, especially under pressure. Marcus and Lorelai both knew that firsthand as he’d trained them and specifically assigned this case to them.
“ATF Director Jared Shore speaking.”
“Sir, it’s Agent Fitzgerald. I have Agent Glover with me as well.”
“My two favorite protégées! What can I do for you?” Director Shore’s voice relaxed slightly with her greeting. “Is everything ready for today’s meeting?”
Inferno, along with twenty other bars across the Southwest, were established in the last fifteen years to keep track of MC activity when the FBI identified the “Big Four”—Hell’s Angels, Pagans, Outlaws, and Bandidos—as outlaw motorcycle gangs they could prosecute under Federal Rico (Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act). Marcus was assigned this station when his predecessor, Jonah, decided to go into early retirement. He arrived on the scene with a cover story as a lone-wolf biker and old military buddy of Jonah. The older man smoothed the transition between Marcus and the Immortals, Death Lords, and Aztecs. Three years ago, Lorelai showed up to play his ‘on again, off-again’ love interest.
The job was everything to her. Lorelai had her sights on Shore’s position and was ambitious enough to get it. She’d unconcernedly sacrificed her time and personal life for it and walked away from her five-year marriage to join Marcus at this post. They made a good team and were good friends as well. Occasionally, they fucked when they needed a release, but it would never be more than that because the job always came first.
“Director, there’s something that Agent Glover and I have been discussing—”
Marcus interjected brusquely with, “Everything is fine, sir. Agent Fitzgerald and I have all cameras in place and the bugs are
untraceable. If Gualtiero Barrera actually comes in, we can finally drill that bastard’s balls to the wall.”
Barrera was a Capitán in El Muerte Silencio, a branch of the Mexican cartel that had been on both the FBI and ATF radars for the last ten years and run by Salazar Pena, a ruthless drug kingpin. Barrera was affiliated in everything from drug trafficking, pornography, and chop shops to gun running, but the man was a slippery son of a bitch. Everyone knew he was Shore’s elusive white dragon that he wanted to bag before retiring.
“I’m counting on you two to play this right. Barrera is a big catch. I don’t have to tell either of you what this could do for your careers,” Shore replied meaningfully.
“In other words: Don’t. Fuck. It. Up.” Lorelai spoke succinctly, eyes still on Marcus. “You have our word, sir, that we are one hundred percent focused with no distractions; isn’t that right, Agent Glover?”
“Exactly, Agent Fitzgerald,” Marcus ground out, enraged that she’d called his bluff. “This assignment is all we’re focused on, sir.”
The Audi was doing sixty-five miles per hour on the barren desert road. It swiftly bypassed a speed limit sign that read twenty-five miles per hour. Seeing it caused a cloud of depression to settle over Billy as the distance from Chatham rapidly increased. Behind them, Roger, one of the Stanton’s gardeners, drove Billy’s Lexus at a much slower pace.
“Wow; if you go any faster, we’ll be flying,” Billy remarked to her grandfather who automatically eased up on the accelerator with a sheepish smile but said nothing as he turned on the CD player.
Jimmy Ruffin’s “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted” filled the silence, and Billy’s nails dug painfully into her palms as the lyrics to the song commiserated with her damaged heart. She looked out the window, but the passing scenery of clay-colored hills and cacti that she’d grown to love were just painful reminders of the gamble she’d taken and lost.
As I walk this land with broken dreams