by Erin Trejo
“I know, brother. I’m gonna help you, man, I promise.”
“They want her,” he says, nodding toward Silla.
“They can’t have her.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”
“They don’t care though, do they?” I ask, moving closer to him. He shakes his head no. The voices tell him what to do at times, tell him who they want, and he can’t help it. He just has to go with it.
“How many have you killed since I’ve been gone?” I move to slide down the wall and sit next to him knowing this is the only way to talk to him now.
“Two. There’s one they really want more than her,” he says, his eyes still locked on her.
“Who is she?”
“Over-privileged bitch.” I chuckle.
“That narrows it down. She’s nobody. They only want her because I looked at her. I fuckin’ hate this shit, Grave. I hate it more than anyone could know. I want it to stop!” I know this has to be waking Silla but if it did, she isn’t letting on. I reach over and wrap my arm around Psycho’s shoulder and pull him into my side.
“Fight them, brother. Don’t let them win this,” I tell him.
“He wants me like this, Grave. He wants me unhinged and out of control!”
“I know he does but I’m not gonna let him use you, Bryce. Do you understand me?” I jerk his face in my free hand, so he has no other choice but to look at me. Using his real name is something I haven’t had to do in a very long time, but I need him to hear me. I need him to understand me.
“You can’t stop it,” he whispers before smiling. I know this isn’t him.
“I can.”
“No, you can’t. Keep her close, Greyson,” he whispers cynically before standing and rushing from the room. I blow out a breath when she finally rolls over.
“Heard all that?” I ask, shoving off the floor.
“That has to be horrible.”
“It is. He can’t stop it, them. The voices just tell him what they want, and he has no choice but to go with it. The things they’ve made him do… Fuck, Silla.”
“What do they make him do?”
“Kill,” I say looking her in the eye.
“Who?”
“Women. Mainly one’s who look like his mom. She used to hurt him in ways no one can imagine.” She blinks but that’s as far as I’m going with his story. It isn’t mine to tell.
“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. And they want me?” she asks, looking up at me.
“Yeah.”
“Good luck.” She giggles and rolls back over. My insides shake but I know what she meant. There’s something she has to know though. I climb onto the bed and grab her shoulder, pulling her back so she’s looking at me.
“I’ll only say this once. If it comes down to you or him, I will always choose him.” I wait for her to argue with me but when she reaches up and grabs my face, pulling it to hers, I can’t say anything more. All thoughts are gone and there’s just us—her mouth moving over mine, her tongue pulling at mine.
“I wouldn’t make you choose, Grave,” she whispers before kissing me again. When we pull apart, I lay down next to her.
“How are the wounds?”
“Fine. I took my medicine like a good girl,” she mocks, causing me to chuckle.
“What are your plans?”
“I want him dead,” she says simply.
“Why do you need me to do that?”
“Why not?”
“I mean it, Silla. You’re a fuckin’ hitman. You don’t need me.”
“I can’t use my regular go-to guys for information. I was hoping you could help me there. I need to know what the point of that attack was, and I need to be sure he’s the one who orchestrated it.” I sigh and reach for her, pulling her into my side.
“I can do that. You know it’s gonna take a while, yeah?” I ask her.
“I know. I’m in no rush. The longer he sits around wondering what the hell happened to me, the better. He isn’t good under pressure, Grave. He will snap and when he does, I will be there standing in his weakness.” God, I don’t know how I was lucky enough to fall into this girl, but I am damn glad I did.
“That easy, huh?”
“Let me ask you this. Your dad tried to kill you. Right in front of all your family and now you want him dead, right?” I nod my head. “That’s no different from me. He had it done that way for a reason. If it was just a kill and go, I would be dead. No, he wanted to make a show out of it, out of me.”
“You sayin’ he didn’t want you dead?”
“No. I think he wanted me dead, but what he wanted more was to make me the example. He wanted everyone else to see what happens when you get out of line,” she says.
“So you got out of line? What did you do?” She intrigues me. There is no doubt she is her own person and God, that makes her sexier in my book.
“I don’t like playing by the rules. I have my own set of rules. I want to know why I’m killing before I kill. If I don’t think that person should die, then they won’t. At least not by my hand.”
“He has others?”
“No one as good as me,” she says as she rolls and moves to straddle my hips. I watch her as she slowly pulls her t-shirt over her head and tosses it to the side. Her hands move over herbody, caressing herself the way my tongue wants to. When she pulls her nipples into hard buds, I nearly come beneath her. She lifts up and undoes my jeans before getting my cock free. I keep my eyes on her the whole time, loving to see her like this. She doesn’t care, she just feels, and it’s something I really like about her. In minutes, she has a condom from my jeans rolled down my length. She hovers over me before putting me where she wants me. Slowly, she lowers herself until I grab her hips causing her to lose her balance. She impales herself on my cock, a roar tearing from her throat has me shaking. Panting and wide-eyed, she looks down at me before smiling.
“Well played,” she says as she slowly rolls her hips. I groan and let her have her time. Soon she will be screaming for me. Soon I will be filling her with all the pent-up emotions racing through my body like the blood in my veins. I groan as her body clenches and releases. This girl is like nothing I’ve ever felt but always knew I wanted. Raising my hips, I give her a little help as she moans and slides her hands all over her body.
“Grave?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you keep me?” My cock jerks inside of her when I hear her question.
“If that’s what you want.”
“Yes.” That’s all I needed to hear. I grab her hips and flip us before pounding into her. Each thrust goes deeper, each time our skin slaps together, I get harder. When there’s a haze over my eyes and tingles racing down my spine, I release, and she follows.
Chapter Fifteen
I’ve been moving in the right direction. Fixing the shit Cash has destroyed. Most everyone knows the plan, but that doesn’t mean it will go off flawlessly. We took a ride out to one of our chapters in Indiana to make sure they are running smoothly. Before my so-called death, we were a little rocky with them since Cash didn’t want to cut them in on some of the protection runs we did. It seems since I was gone for those few short months, things have gotten worse.
“I’m sorry, Shade. I don’t know what else you want me to say here, brother.” Shade is the president of the Indiana Chapter.
“I should shoot your ass on the spot,” he mutters under his breath.
“Try it. Everyone else seems to want a shot,” I chuckle.
“Do you realize what you’re askin’ me right now?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’re askin’ me to stand against another prez, Grave! Fuck!” I know he doesn’t like the idea, but he also doesn’t really have a choice. I’m done playing nice with anyone. I’m taking this club one way or another.
“I’m askin’ you to stand against a man who tried to kill his own kid! I’m askin’ you to stand against a man who has driven his club into the ground
and gives no shits! I have the goddamn proof scarred on my body, Shade. You know our chapter works differently. I want his spot,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why? Why do you want that shit, Grave? Huh? Do you know the responsibility that comes with that shit?” Tired of his bullshit, I shove my chair back and stand to my feet. I turn to walk away when Shade calls me back. Fuck him. He isn’t my prez. I won’t even consider him a friend if this is the way he wants to act.
“Grave! Turn the fuck around and come back!” he roars this time. I turn around and haul my ass back to the table, grabbing the front of his cut and hoisting him out of the chair.
“I’m not here to play games, brother. I’m not here to listen to your bullshit on responsibility. I know what it takes to run the goddamn club. It’s my birthright! Now do you wanna keep playin’ games or you wanna make a deal?”
“I’m gonna give you to the count of three to get your goddamn hands off me, brother.” His eyes hold anger not many would understand. I do though. I’ve been there. His men are all around but that doesn’t stop me as he starts to count. “One… two.” It doesn’t surprise me when I hear a click and see Silla holding a gun to Shade’s head and saying, “Three.”
“What the fuck is this?” Shade asks, looking at her.
“My secret weapon. We talkin’ or am I walkin’?”
“Fine! Sit the fuck down.” I release the hold I have on him and nod at Silla to lower her gun. Shade’s other men all follow suit as do mine. When we’re both sitting back in our chairs, I glare at him.
“Your dad has burned many bridges, Grave. You already know that. You want my ass on the firin’ line next to you, then you need to earn that shit. Handle my next two runs and I’m in.”
“What are they?”
“What’s the fuckin’ difference?”
“The difference is I’m fuckin’ askin’!”
“Coke runs. You run it to the Maryland chapter. Haul the cash back. Easy.” I snort. Running coke is never easy. If we get picked up with that shit, we’re all going to prison.
“Fine. It’s a deal but I want the runs soon. I don’t give two shits how you make it happen just do it.” I grab my beer and bring it to my lips as Shade looks over at Psycho.
“What the hell happened to him and why is he starin’ at her?” I look over and see Psycho staring at Silla again. It’s not anything new. He told me why he’s doing it.
“Cash has him off his meds. I’m workin’ on gettin’ him back on them.”
“What the fuck would he stop them for?” Shade’s gaze comes back to mine. They all know about Psycho. There aren’t many who don’t.
“Been usin’ him for his own shit. You know how he is when he’s off them.”
“Damn. And the doc?”
“Won’t listen to me. Cash is the prez.”
“Goddamn, Grave. You got your hands full, brother.”
“Yeah, I do, and I don’t need your shit on top of it,” I remind him.
“Look, man. You know I’m pretty easy to get along with, yeah? Not all other chapters are gonna be.”
“I don’t need all other chapters, I need yours. I’m makin’ shit right with Joker’s and Flame’s as we speak. That’s all I’m concerned with at this point until I can get him out of there.” Shade nods his head as if he understands but I doubt it. He’s never been in my position and I doubt he will ever be.
“Alright. Let me get those runs lined up and we’re straight,” he says, holding his hand across the table to me. I look at it for a minute before I finally give in and shake it. Shoving out of the chair once more, I motion for Preacher and Freak to follow. Silla is already behind me and Psycho isn’t far behind her. It takes seconds, literally seconds for him to grab her. I hear her yelp before I spin to find him pinning her to the side of the clubhouse. His shoulders rise and fall rapidly but when I step closer to them, I can see her face. It’s turning red but she isn’t fighting him. Why? A normal person would but then it occurs to me—Silla isn’t normal. She’s been trained in these situations. I start to open my mouth to say more but she subtly shakes her head.
“You don’t want me,” she whispers. His eyes move to hers as they stand there in their own showdown.
“How do you know that?”
“I know guys like you. You don’t want this.” Each word is harder for her to say due to the lack of oxygen. but Psycho doesn’t ease his grip, not even when Silla pulls her head back and slams it into his face. I’m about to step in when she knees him in the junk. He releases her and bends over cursing.
“What the fuck was that?” I roar at Silla. She straightens her shirt and looks over at my friend who’s now doubled over in manic laughter.
“You sick little bitch,” he hisses.
“You like that? Grab my throat one more time and let’s see how far we can take it.” Psycho stands up, his eyes narrowing as he moves toward her. I can feel the rage between the two. I can feel the anger but when he steps into her space, inches apart, I’m shocked at what happens.
“Never and I mean never let them hurt you,” he says softly, pulling his knife from his pocket and holding it out to her. She doesn’t take it, just shakes her head. Psycho reaches for her hand and pulls it out, placing the knife in her palm and wrapping her fingers around it. “Never.” He steps back and heads toward his bike as Preacher, Freak and I all share a strange look. Silla doesn’t say anything, just keeps her hand held there with the knife in it.
“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Freak says. I nod my head. but I don’t move until Silla does. I don’t say anything either, just watch her slide the knife in her back pocket and turn on her heel heading toward my bike.
Chapter Sixteen
“Where the fuck have you been?” Cash asks as I stroll into the clubhouse with Silla right behind me.
“Out.” That’s the only word I get out when his fist slams into the side of my head. I don’t think, just react. I swing back, hitting him. A few more blows and we catch attention from the other guys, and we’re pulled apart.
“Just because you walked back in here don’t mean you won’t leave in a bag!” he growls. I reach up and wipe the blood from my lip as I chuckle.
“For a second time?” I taunt him.
“Second times a charm, yeah?” I start to go back toward him, but Psycho is behind me, holding me back.
“I don’t know, first time was fun.”
“Fuck you!” he spits out, but I just laugh. He thinks he won but he hasn’t. I’ll be having the last laugh in his honor.
“That’s it? Shoot your own kid and that’s the best you got?” I egg him on wanting to fight him. I want his words, his anger, his brutality. I want it all because that’s when I’ll know what I’m doing is right.
“Did I shoot you? Couldn’t have been me, I wasn’t near you.” The tone he says those words in reaches inside of me and pulls at every ounce of hatred I have for the man. The guys can feel it too.
“Take a walk, Grave!” Preacher says, pushing me in the chest toward the door. My eyes stay locked with my dad’s, wanting nothing more than to snap his goddamn neck right here and now and they all know it. Instead, Silla grabs my hand and leads me out the door I just came through.
“This is bullshit!” I roar, ripping my hand away from hers as I walk back toward my bike. Fuck him. Fuck them all. I need out of here. I need space and I don’t know where to find that right now.
“Where are you going?” Silla asks when I don’t look back. I just keep walking, ignoring her and the hell that is inside the clubhouse.
“Out!” I know I shouldn’t be leaving her here alone but fuck, she can handle herself. Grabbing my helmet, I climb on my bike, rev up the engine, and haul ass out of there. Nothing can erase the look on his face when he pulled the trigger. Nothing can replace that. All I see when I close my eyes is that face. He was so goddamn proud of himself, happy he thought I was dead.
I ride harder, faster than normal. I need to feel something, an
ything that might be real. Anger is consuming. It can drown you if you let it and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m letting it pull me under and I can’t fucking breathe. I can’t see the light anymore and that’s the scariest thought of all. Taking the next exit, I ride until I see the gravel road and pull off. It takes me five minutes to get back to the house. When I kill the engine, my mom comes out the front door.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, looking around like I might have brought them directly to her. That serves to piss me off a little more.
“You think I was followed? That’s how much faith you have in me?”
“What the hell is wrong with you, Grave?”
“I’m Grave now? Any other time I’m Greyson!”
“Yeah, any other time you aren’t coming at me like I’m the enemy. What’s happening?” I close my eyes and I can see him. That look. “Talk to me.”
“I always knew he hated me but until that night, I didn’t realize just how deep that shit went.”
“You’re not his kid, Greyson.”
“He just looked at me like I was shit. Like I wasn’t good enough to breathe in the same air as him!”
“He’s not your dad!” The fuck did she just say? I step back and glare at her, unsure of what to say, how to react.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, Cash isn’t your real dad. He knows. Knew it for a long time.”
“What? Who then? Why?” Too many questions roam around this head of mine and I can’t see straight. My mom grabs my arm, leading me toward the house. I follow in a daze until we’re finally inside. The man I’ve called dad my whole life isn’t even my dad. The man had a reason to hate me. He had every fucking right to hate me.
“Your dad’s a Nomad. He was just passing through at the time. Cash… he wanted a son and I had you. At first, he was happy, you know? Like a dad should be but then rumors got around that you weren’t his. He had you tested behind my back.”