by K. S. Ellis
Suddenly, she lunges at me, both hands hitting the centre of my chest, shoving with all her might, her yells filling the otherwise silent clearing. I'm too surprised to react, so I just stand there, arms dangling by my sides, while she puts her entire body weight into trying to move me. Of course, I don't even sway, and her feet actually start sliding backwards over the slippery grass. What the fuck is she doing? Has she lost her fucking mind? Is she having some sort of hysterical breakdown? Is that what this is? Freaking out because she knows that I’ve caught her in a bullshit lie and she thinks that she’s going to attack me and flee?
Lena finally stops whatever the fuck it is she’s doing and takes her hands away from my chest, standing back and brushing the hair from her face, catching her breath, finally quiet. She's actually fucking out of breath after whatever the fuck that was.
'Yeah,' she pants at last. 'I suppose you're right, I could have easily broken away from him. Since I'm fucking Rhonda Rousey or some shit.' This time I can't help my smirk. Oh, that's what she was doing, proving a point. And a fair fucking point, I suppose. Cory fucking Channing is a fucking wet looking prick, but compared to her, yeah, I fucking get it now.
'So what did he want you to do?' I ask at last, with a sigh. She just shrugs, still catching her breath.
'I don't know. I left the diner before he could say. And Conrad interrupted outside before he could tell me there either.' She purses her lips, trying to remember. 'He did say that whatever it was would mean that I could cut short my time with the Wild Hawks.' I watch her face carefully, my own impassive. She wants to fucking leave? For some reason that I really don’t want to think about, that's a kick to the motherfucking gut. Lena just shrugs again.
'He sounded desperate, so I'm assuming that he's in trouble with someone else and wants to use me to bail him out of that mess too.' She sounds bitter, which fucking reminds me.
'Why did you agree to help him out of his debts with us?' I ask, frowning and crossing my arms again. I can hear the suspicion in my tone and I know she can too. Instead of frowning, or blustering, or anything, she fucking blanches. All the blood leaves her face and she looks at the ground. She looks fucking terrified, and also, ashamed? What the fuck is that about? I place two fingers under her chin and force her head up to face mine, careful to be as gentle as I can. This time she doesn't just have tears in her eyes; they're fucking spilling over and tracking down her cheeks. Mother. Fucker. I don't know what comes over me, but suddenly I'm standing here, in the middle of a motherfucking nature reserve, frantically trying to wipe away all her tears with my fingers.
Chapter 14
LENA
I've never been afraid of Aric, not once during the whole two plus weeks I've been at the clubhouse. But suddenly, it has crossed my mind that maybe he brought me out to this beautiful spot to kill me. I'm going to have to tell him why I agreed to be a sex slave to help Cory out. I'm going to have to tell him my deepest, darkest secret. The thing in my life that I'm the most ashamed about, and wish with my whole heart that I could undo. And the worst thing about it isn't that I finally have to tell someone, or that someone else in the world will know, and they may be able to hold it over me too. No, the worst damn part is that he might look at me differently. I'm in too damn deep here. I shouldn’t care what he thinks about me. I shouldn’t care whether this is going to make Aric look at me differently. I just shouldn’t care. But I do care. I care so very deeply, and that scares me too. I struggle to get my panic under control.
Tears spill down my cheeks and I can feel his fingers under my chin, and then there is pressure there as he tilts my head back up. He's still frowning, looking all stern and angry, and somehow still totally sexy. Then he sees my tears and his face softens and he leans in, his fingers coming up to my cheeks as he starts frantically brushing away my tears as fast as they fall. His eyes are suddenly unguarded, and really darn compassionate. Unexpected? Yes. Absolutely melting my heart? Again, yes. What is it about a rough, tough, tattooed criminal acting like a big teddy bear who is scared of my tears and wants them to stop has me melting like a schoolgirl with a crush? I need some serious therapy. Like, yesterday.
'He knows something,' I whisper, and Aric's fingers still against my cheekbones. 'That's why I agreed to help pay off his debt. Otherwise he'll tell someone.' His lips thin and he looks pissed. Whether it's because of the blackmail, or something else, I'm not sure.
'Tell who?' he asks softly. The steel in his tone makes me shiver. Sometimes I think I get so caught up in his deliciousness that I forget that he's a dangerous man.
'The police,' I whisper, and he studies my face carefully for a moment.
'And what have you ever done in your life that the police would be interested in?' He looks serious, but I can hear the curiosity in his voice. 'You steal a pen from a bank or something.' I shake my head, pressing my trembling hands to my stomach, feeling my whole body shudder.
'No,' I whisper, my eyes dropping to his chest. I can't look him in the eyes when I finally admit it.
'I killed someone.'
Chapter 15
ARIC
Well, you could knock me down with a fucking feather right now. Lena fucking killed someone? She's dressed like a fucking school teacher. She get drunk and hit someone with her car or something? She hiccups a little sob, and any other time I would probably find it fucking cute, but right now I'm in a little bit of fucking shock. I'm having a bit of a hard time fucking processing this shit right now. Lena wraps her arms around her middle, hunched over slightly like she's trying to physically keep herself from falling apart. I rest my hands on her shoulders, and I can feel her whole body trembling beneath them.
'What happened?' I ask, softly, gently, and sounding like a completely fucking different person than I really am. She doesn't say anything for a while, and we just stand there, but I really need to fucking know. If Cory fucking Channing is blackmailing her? First of all, I'm going to kill that motherfucking cunt. How fucking dare he? Second of all, we really need to know this kind of shit. We can't afford to have the cops coming down on us.
'It was a few years ago,' she whispers at last, and I tilt my head closer so that I can hear every fucking word. 'I was about twenty-two, and I'd just finished college and come home to San Remo from UCLA.' She's still staring at my chest as though she can melt a hole it in with her gaze. I contemplate bringing her eyes up to mine again, but decide against it. If this is how she's comfortable telling me, then it's more important I hear the details than that I can see her fucking eyes. Besides, if she's this fucking broken up over telling me about it, maybe it's for the fucking best that I can't see her eyes. I've got to keep my head in the fucking game.
'I was dating this guy, Brett,' her voice breaks a little on his name and I fucking hate the cunt already. What kind of piss weak, cocksucker kind of name is Brett anyway? 'We had been drinking and we were hanging out in the den at my momma's house. We hadn't been dating for very long, and I wasn't, um, ready,' her voice trails off and her eyes flick up to mine briefly before returning to my chest. Oh, I grimace. She's trying to say that she wasn't fucking ready to have sex with him. I wish she could skip to the part about her killing someone; I don't want to hear this shit about her hooking up with past boyfriends. I don't want to think about her giving her body to someone else.
'He was being… insistent,' Lena continues, her voice still cracking, and I can feel my eyes narrowing. This story better not be fucking going where I think it is. 'He wasn't listening when I asked him to stop, and he... was hurting me.' I can feel my fingers tightening on her shoulders. If this story doesn't end with Brett fucking dead, I'm going to find him, and he's going to die. Really. Fucking. Slowly.
'I managed to get my hands on this decorative, I don't know,' she flounders to describe whatever it was that she grabbed. I don't fucking care what it was, as long as she tells me it was fucking heavy. 'Glass ball,' she says at last, gesturing with her hands that it was about twice the size of a baseball. 'And
I hit him in the head. I just wanted to get him off me,' she whispers, sounding so broken. Her eyes meet mine again and it's like she's begging me to understand that she didn't mean to hurt him. Fuck that. I hope she fucked the cunt up. 'He fell sideways,' she swallows, looking a bit sick as she remembers, 'his head hit the side of the coffee table. It was an awful sound.' I fucking bet it was. I bet it was a beautiful fucking awful sound.
'He wouldn't wake up, so I started screaming. Cory and Harry, his father, came running in. Cory wanted to call the ambulance, but Harry felt his pulse and said that there was no point. I think he noticed my torn dress, but he didn't mention it. There was so much blood.' Lena trails off again and I tug her into my arms, holding her tightly and stroking her hair. I can feel her arms snaking around my middle and she buries her face in my chest. But she continues, because she's so much fucking tougher than she gives herself credit for. Her words are slightly muffled since she's speaking into my shirt, but I don't move. I can still hear her okay, and I'm not ready to stop fucking holding her yet.
'Harry and Cory took his body away and they cleaned up the blood and Cory took my dress away. I don't know what happened after that, but we never talked about it again. Harry died just over a year ago, so now only Cory knows, and when he made this deal with your Dad, he told me I had to go along with it or he would tell the police about Brett.'
She falls silent and we just stand there, wrapped up in each other's arms. When I next see Cory Channing, I'm going to put a bullet through his fucking brain. But first I might find out from him what they did with this Brett cunt's body. I have the sudden urge to piss on his fucking grave.
Chapter 16
LENA
I have no idea how long we stand here in the clearing, holding each other tightly, but by the time Aric steps away from me, my tears have long since dried up, my heaving breaths have quieted and my trembling has stilled. As he steps back, Aric looks down at me with such a tender expression that it leaves me weak at the knees, as his fingers brush at the dried tears on my cheeks and he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. His hands grip my waist as he deepens the kiss, and I sigh against his mouth, and then he fully steps away from me, leaving me feeling strangely bereft.
'We should head back,' he turns away from me, heading back to his motorcycle, his voice gruff, and he clears his throat. Without arguing, I hurry after him. When he gets to the motorcycle though, I reach out and grab at his arm.
'I'm not ready to go back just yet. Can we have just another second?' Aric’s dark eyes scrutinize mine, before he blows out a breath and nods. He leans against his motorcycle, his hands resting on his thighs, watching me with inscrutable, dark eyes. Timidly, I step up to him, placing my hands over his, before sliding them up his arms. His eyes darken as he watches me for a beat longer, and I lick my lips as my hands reach his throat. He growls as his eyes linger on my mouth, and then he surges forward, his hands coming about my jaw as his mouth clamps down on mine, hot and urgent. I'm not sure how long we kiss for, but I need more, so I drop my hands to his belt and tug it open.
He keeps kissing me, still holding my jaw with both his hands, until I get his jeans open and reach inside to stroke his hard cock. Then he groans and breaks the kiss, spinning me around so that I'm facing his motorcycle. Aric places a hand on the small of my back and presses me downwards until I'm bent at the waist, and my forearms are resting against the leather seat. I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper and brace against the motorcycle as he shoves my panties aside and thrusts into me, bottoming out in my pussy as a grunt is forced from my lips and he groans.
'So fucking tight,' he murmurs, 'so fucking beautiful.' And then he starts to move, one hand still on the small of my back, holding me in position, the other gripping my hip to help with his pistoning thrusts. It's quick, and it's hot, and it's dirty. It's also exactly what I need right now. My moans get louder as my climax nears and suddenly I'm screaming out his name as his hand moves from the small of my back to grab the handlebar as he thrusts in one last time, really hard as he comes. I'm pretty sure he yells "fuck" and my name when he does.
We're both panting when he pulls out of me, and he drops the skirt of my dress over my ass so that I'm decent once again. Holy quickie, I close my eyes; that was amazing. By the time I get my breathing under control, straightening and turning towards him, he's fully clad again and the condom has disappeared. Aric reaches out a hand and strokes my cheek lightly, his eyes burning into mine, before his lips twist into a smirk.
'Now we really do need to get back,' he drawls, throwing a leg over the motorcycle as I smooth down my skirt. Taking a deep breath, I climb on as he starts the engine, tightly clinging to him, my face pressed against his back. I don't really want to return to reality, but we have to at some point, I suppose. Aric disappears as soon as we enter the clubhouse, but I make my way to the kitchen. Whenever I feel out of sorts, I’ve always turned to baking. Yeah, my momma really raised me Southern as hell. I was never going to be a California surfer chick.
Tammy-Lynn is in the kitchen when I get there, making spaghetti bolognese. I learnt a few days ago that it's Strafe's favorite, which is why she makes it so often. She smiles up at me, but her eyes seem sad, and she doesn't talk, so I return her smile and go about collecting everything that I need to make spiced fig cake and buttermilk biscuits with smoked sausage cream gravy, since I've never found a place to buy decent andouille in California. We cook in silence for a while, and I notice Tammy-Lynn's eyes tracking my movements, until she finally speaks.
'Is everything all right? With Aric, I mean,' she asks gently. I smile at her, before returning my attention to my cooking.
'Of course,' I reply, slowly stirring the fig preserves into my eggs, milk, and soda mixture. 'Long day is all,' I smile tightly at her again and she sighs and puts down her knife.
'I know exactly what you mean,' she smiles wryly at me. Then she straightens and looks me in the eye. 'Are you close to your mother?' I start in surprise. I thought she was going to talk more about Aric.
'Uh,' I stir in my dry ingredients on autopilot. Was I close to my momma? When I was younger, sure I suppose I was. I mean, she’s from Louisiana. So “close” means that while I’m sure she loved me, there was always some way I could have looked better, been thinner, that sort of thing. But as I got older and she had married Harry and Cory had been around? 'I used to be,' I sigh at last. 'But when she remarried, she became all about my stepbrother.' I shrug, as she watches me intently.
'My momma is Southern. They have a special place in their hearts for their sons. Their daughters have to be perfect. Their sons already are.' I can feel my mouth twisting into a bitter smile and she nods, like she understands. A really sad look crosses her face, and she brushes away a small tear.
'I understand. I've made the same mistake before,' she speaks cryptically and I freeze. She's talking about her daughter, Hannah, or Nan as Aric called her. No one has mentioned her since that day I went with Tammy-Lynn to run errands, and Hannah doesn't seem to hang out the clubhouse at all. I've not seen hide nor hair of her since then.
'Hannah is a lot younger than Aric,' she explains to me, resuming her cooking. 'Holton was already president here when she was born, so she grew up very differently than Aric. Well, she was always going to, I suppose, seeing that she was a girl. But, while Aric had hung around when he was a teenager, and become more involved in the club then, Hannah was immersed from the beginning.' She smiles fondly. 'I think she felt quite stifled, especially when she became a teenager. Imagine going through your rebellious teenage years, wanting to date, and be silly with your friends, when you were constantly tailed by rough bikers, who think they're just looking out for your best interests, but in reality, they scare away potential friends, and ensure no boy your age goes within a city block of you.’
'Anyway,' she sighs, stirring her sauce, 'there was a family disagreement, and she doesn't really speak to us anymore. She still works for the club, but she has her own place
, and she never comes around here. I don't think that she's ever forgiven us, me in particular, for not taking her side.' There's another beat of silence in the kitchen, and then she sighs, turning off the stove. 'Families can be hard work, can't they?' Shaking her head, Tammy-Lynn quickly puts the cooked food in the refrigerator and leaves, patting my shoulder gently as she does.
'If you ever need anything, sweetheart,' she smiles kindly at me, 'just you let me know.'
I just blink after Tammy-Lynn as she leaves, feeling a strange warmth in my chest. Maybe it’s just because she called me sweetheart, or maybe it’s because she gave me advice without criticizing me. Whatever it was, I’m just about ready to cry, because in forty-five minutes she’s shown me more unconditional mothering than my own momma has in my entire life.
After how sweet Aric was with me in the clearing today, and now this touching moment with his momma, I’m a little scared with how comfortable and safe I’m starting to feel here at the Wild Hawks Clubhouse. There’s a tiny part of me that wonders if maybe Aric is also starting to feel things for me, like I am for him. But the larger, more rational part of my brain shuts down those lovely thoughts extremely quickly. I’m his sex slave. I’m here to work off Cory’s debt. I’m here until he tires of me. That’s it. That’s all it is. Tammy-Lynn’s only acting nice because she doesn’t know the basis of Aric and my relationship, and she’s getting her hopes up. That’s all.
I’m definitely going to need to move to LA, or further when Aric eventually kicks me out. Far, far away from him to lick my wounds and nurse my torn up heart back together. And the worst part is; I wouldn’t even get to rage and act heartbroken, because it wouldn’t be like he was dumping me, since that’s not what we’re doing here. How the hell did I get into this situation? Fucking hell. The next time Cory comes running to threaten me, I’m going to hop a bus to Canada. He can fucking tell the cops I killed Brett. I’ll just fucking tell them that Cory buried the cocksucker. See how he handles that shit coming down on him.