“I’m going into the city with Nyx,” he informed me, his voice rumbly.
Our eyes communicated what neither of us were ready to say—not in front of Nyx. Because the second Cruz told me, in front of my brother, that he’d be coming straight to my apartment once the day was done, was when we were outed for real.
Though Cruz had told me last night was the first or the final time we’d be together, I saw that now wasn’t the moment to be admitting to anything.
He was antsy, bouncing a little on his toes, and I registered that he had something to do and didn’t like hovering around, waiting to get it done.
If I’d learned anything about him, it was that he liked to do things on his schedule. No one else’s. But with Nyx, as VP, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. That had to screw with his Dommy head, enough that it made me hide a smile.
I highly doubted Nyx’d bend over for a spanking… not even for Giulia.
Even as I wondered what Cruz’s game plan was—not just for today, but for us—I recognized that in all my life, I’d never been with the same guy for the length of time I’d been with him. What that said about me, at my age, well, I didn’t like to think about. Knowing I was fucked up and admitting to it was just depressing.
I dipped my chin, preferring to focus on the one thing that always got me through—ink. “You want me to schedule you in for some time on your back tat?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
Nyx, finally having quit with the kissy goddamn face with Giulia, muttered, “It’s taken you a fucking lifetime to get that cross finished. If you weren’t covered in ink, I’d say you were too much of a pussy to go under the needle again.”
Cruz smirked, looking far too hot for his own good.
And mine.
Jesus.
What was it about him that got my juices flowing? Without him spanking me, scraping my skin with the back of his knife, or choking me?
I mean, I knew he was beautiful, and even though some might not consider ink to be an art, I sure as fuck did. My canvas was living, breathing. It moved, it had life. I didn’t paint a piece of goddamn fabric and hang it on a wall. My work existed in more than just a 2D kind of way. And that was Cruz all over. Sure, he was covered in ink which was like my kryptonite, but more than that, he was just fucking gorgeous.
His hair was dark. I’d never liked dark guys, because they reminded me of my brothers, but Cruz’s hair was like mink. It felt so good against my hands.
His eyes were a kind of hazel. I said a ‘kind of’ because they were neither blue nor green, and there were little amber top notes that I recognized because they danced around the iris on the rare occasions he smiled. Those top notes made his eyes lean toward a grassy color, but just labeling them green was underselling them. Like calling a diamond a rock.
He was, I recognized, grumpy by nature. I knew he’d classify himself as grim though. Like the reaper. He had this image of himself in his head that was worse than the one I had of myself. Why? I didn’t know. What he had in his past didn’t torment him. I’d have recognized a fellow survivor, someone who was drowning in the quagmire. Cruz wasn’t drowning. If anything, he was surfing through life, but something drove him.
Something…
I pursed my lips as I wondered what that might be, tracing my gaze over the strong jawline, the wide set eyes, the soft brows that felt good under my thumb whenever I smoothed one down on the rare occasions I instigated the connection now and touched him. His stubble prickled the best way against my skin, and it glinted silver and gold when it was long enough.
His body was rangy. He wasn’t like Nyx, wasn’t a muscle-head, but his body was toned, strong. In his own way. It was like sleeping with a runner, I guessed, instead of a weight lifter.
He had the sweetest smile lines either side of his eyes which told me he’d smiled frequently at some point in his life, even if he didn’t have matching lines bracketing his mouth, and his nose had been broken.
He looked like a damaged angel. With the skeleton tats on his hands and chest, the massive cross he had which was why he’d been given his road name, and then, at his throat, the big tat that was mostly black ink. I’d looked to see if it was a cover up, but I thought the negative ink was representative of something, something he hadn’t, and maybe never would, share with me. There was a reason, after all, he was inked like a living skeleton.
The thought of him keeping secrets shouldn’t have hurt. Not when I’d shared the bare minimum with him. He knew about my past when no one else did, but that wasn’t the only part of me that mattered.
We were two bodies that came together in the night, with violence and passion, but I wasn’t sure if there was more. Not yet, anyway.
Maybe two weeks ago, I’d have been okay with that.
But yesterday, something had changed.
It wasn’t something he’d done, nor something I had. Even if he knocked down barriers without even trying to when he made me piss in front of him, or when he’d shoved his cum-soaked fingers down my throat.
No, Stone and Steel had done that.
In they’d walked, hand in hand. Stone stiff from riding bitch, when she wasn’t supposed to yet. Steel with such an intense look in his eyes, one that had hit me with the force of a laser.
I’d known they loved each other for decades. It had been clear to anyone with eyes, even if the reason why was beyond any of us. I knew Steel had to have justified it to Stone, but she’d never shared the truth with me, even if she’d overcome whatever bullshit he’d used to keep them apart.
I’d seen him in the hospital, watched him watch over her night after night, week after week.
He hadn’t been good enough for her. Until he’d proven himself. And sure, he’d fuck up. Bikers always did. But I figured they’d make it work. Whatever hit them in the future.
I’d seen that yesterday. When they’d come walking in for me to brand Stone, and to work on the brand I hadn’t even known he had, one that declared to the world that Stone was his—for far longer than any of us had recognized.
And then, now, when I looked at Giulia and Nyx, as they tongue fucked in front of me again, as the brother who was more messed up in the head than I could ever be, as I registered Giulia’s words… did I have that in my future?
Could I have that in my future?
In all honesty, I wasn’t sure.
And I was even less sure if I did want it, that it’d be with Cruz.
The club’s Grim Reaper.
The only man whose hands I’d been able to bear on my body.
Whose dick slid into me with no pain.
Who made me wet when we slept together.
Who knew my triggers, knew what I needed to get off, knew just what I was and why I was…
“Indy.”
That commanding tone had me blinking at him, and I knew my pupils had to be blown out because his nostrils flared. Fuck, it was like he could scent my arousal or something.
Could he?
There was something preternatural about him, that was for damn sure. Or maybe I was just building into the frickin’ hype about why this man had earned those bones on his hands.
I bit my lip. “I’ll book you in this week.”
“Where’s David the Dick?” Nyx asked, peering around my shop like David was hiding under the desk.
“I gave him the morning off. He had some problem with his car,” I told him, all while my eyes remained fixed on Cruz’s.
“Fucking freak. I don’t like how he looks at you,” he carried on grumbling, and his words had Cruz’s brows furrowing.
I shook my head though and grumbled right back, “He’s harmless.”
“That’s like saying a rattlesnake won’t bite.”
That had me wrenching my gaze from Cruz’s. “That makes no sense. Since when does David look like a snake?”
“All the time?” Nyx groused.
Scowling at him, I retorted, “When are you going to see Quin?”
&nb
sp; My brother’s mouth tightened, but he surprised me by telling me, “Next week.”
Only the fact that Nyx didn’t have a record was how he could get inside, because normally, someone with gang affiliations would never be allowed visitors from that same gang. So how his visit was possible was something I’d never know, even as I’d never allowed that excuse to cut him any slack. The club had deep pockets so I’d known they could either bribe someone to get Nyx into Rikers for a visit, or that they’d bribed enough folk along the way to keep my brother’s hands as clean as possible. Probably most of the councilors too. Especially as they were all close to Rex, and Rex and his father had led the club for years.
That was why it was bittersweet. The council was full of murderers but Caleb, my baby bro, who’d been sick until his transplant, was doing hard fucking time now.
I couldn’t say there was no justice in this world, because I didn’t want Nyx or any of my club family to be inside, but it just sucked.
Big time.
“You’re going next week?”
I cast a quick glance at Giulia who looked a mixture of smug and surprised which told me that she’d been working her wiles on him like she promised but hadn’t expected it to happen as fast as that.
“Yeah, I just said that, didn’t I?” He heaved an impatient sigh, glowering at me a second before he rumbled, “Okay, we’d better fuck off to the city. You need a ride home, sweetheart?” he asked Giulia.
“Nah, I’m gonna help Indy.”
“How you getting home?”
“I’ll wait on you if you want?”
His eyes gleamed. “Course I want.” He squeezed her ass even as he let her down, pecked her on the lips before he rumbled, “Later.”
Her smile was dirty but she just told him, “Stay safe.”
His smile was all the reassurance she’d get.
Nothing about this life was safe.
As he strode out, Cruz murmured, “I’ll speak to you later about the appointment.”
“Sure.” I bit my lip, watched as he glanced at my mouth, then he twisted around and without a backward glance, called out, “See you later, Giulia.”
When he was gone, she turned to me, excitement entwining with interest. “You’re banging him.”
“What makes you say that?” I hedged.
“I have eyes, don’t I?”
“I dunno. I thought they were rolling around in your head while my brother tongue-fucked you in my store.”
She sniffed. “If you think I’m about to apologize for that when your brother’s fucking my mouth—”
I raised a hand. “Spare me the details.”
“The devil’s in the details,” she joked, making me stick out my tongue at her. Her teasing simmered down though as she wandered over to the door and closed it firmly as the wind swept in, blowing it open a little. “Seriously, Indy, you are, aren’t you?”
“I don’t want Nyx to know.”
“Yeah, because I’d tell him.” She rolled her eyes.
“Thought soul mates didn’t have secrets from one another,” I jibed.
“A girl has gotta have secrets from her man,” she retorted. “Especially when it’s with her posse.”
My lips twitched. “Posse?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. My very own Sinners’ posse. It’s growing.”
I huffed out a laugh because she wasn’t wrong. “I guess it is.”
“From the way you were looking at him, I’d say another one’s bitten the dust.”
As the straight pipes rattled down the street, I peered out the window and watched as my brother and lover headed off to the city for what ungodly business I couldn’t imagine.
When they roared by, I just murmured, “More like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”
Cruz
Heading into the city always put me in a killer mood, and today’s visit was going to be shittier than usual. Not only was traffic a bitch, but my intent was to meet with my mom, and as luck would have it, Nyx was in a crappy mood as well. He had to liaise with a street gang who’d done us a solid, all while waiting on me to get the real goods on what my mom wanted.
Only the council was aware of any of that though. His going today was my protection for when the fallout eventually hit.
If I’d learned anything in my life, it was that the shit always hit the fan—sometimes it just took longer than others.
So, when the whole club knew about my relatives, Nyx coming today, even if he wasn’t going to meet my mom, would allay suspicions about me in the long run.
I’d been born and raised in NYC, but it had never felt like home. Not like West Orange did. Crazy how it was only an hour away with terrible traffic, but the dynamic was different.
Riding to it always put me in a mood because of the congestion, but mostly, I just hated how fucking busy it was. I knew Nyx felt the exact same way because when Rex had given him this job yesterday, he’d been bitching about having spent too much time in Manhattan what with Stone having been hospitalized as long as she had, and a lot of the council heading there to be with her.
We’d all known Stone was tight with the council, but I wasn’t sure any of us had registered exactly how much. Living was learning though.
Heading under the city through the Lincoln Tunnel always made me feel claustrophobic, so it was with relief that I headed away from the island itself and rode to one of the ‘burbs where Mom lived.
It was my childhood home, but there was nothing warm and cozy about the memories I had of that place.
My parents arguing, my mom ramming my dad’s manhood into him with every bitter word. The only time we’d ever been happy was when she was on the job and we were alone. Mom should never have married and had a kid, although my dad used to tell me that before the post-partum depression had taken a firm hold on her, she’d been relatively normal.
Sadly for me, that had taken over her when I was three and we’d lost my baby brother, so the mom I’d known was the nutcase who was obsessed with her father’s death.
Riding through the busy streets, streets that had once been my turf, I stopped around the corner from her place, picked up my cell and called Rex. “You ready for this, Prez?”
“Go for it.”
Years ago, when I’d joined the Sinners, I’d learned exactly what my mom stood for. I was many things, but an idiot wasn’t one of them, so when I’d patched in as a Prospect, I’d name-dropped my mother to the council. Seemed counter-intuitive to a lot of the bikers who, at first, had eyed me with distrust. But, and it was a big but, I’d known what they’d think.
They could use me. I was a source of intel.
I was more than okay with that, but sometimes, when she went months without calling me, it was nice to forget about her, her ties.
I was an honest criminal. She was just a dirty fucking Fed, and if there was one thing I hated more than a goddamn cop, it was a squealing pig.
So, I thought nothing of betraying her because my family was back in West Orange and I kicked my hog into rolling forward, nosing down the narrow roads as I went ‘home.’
Parking beside the narrow house, I became aware that she was watching for me, because the door slipped open when I took my helmet off. I strode up the short path, ducking my head so I didn’t bang it on the low ceiling as I walked in.
There was something brimming inside Caroline Dunbar that made her appear a lot younger than her fifty-six years. Being objective—which was what I did best—I’d say she looked about forty-eight, because the trend of having gray hair made her look like she was trying to fit in with fashion. Mom had never given a shit about fashion. She’d always worn boxy black suits and those square-toed shoes with frickin’ rubber heels so she could run.
I figured she’d believed herself to be GI Jane, and while I wasn’t sexist, I had to hope that GI Jane would be a patriot and not just in the superheroine game because her sleazeball father had managed to get himself executed a long time ago. Every hero had a back story, o
f course, but that had to be the most pathetic of them all.
I didn’t go further than the hallway, not interested in getting comfortable. The low ceiling, the side table that had the same dish I remembered as a kid with a couple sets of keys in, a coat hook by the door which had only her coat suspended from it, and the staircase which had a basket of laundry on the bottom step was all I saw as I did an initial scan of the place. I didn’t sense anyone upstairs, or in the living room, and Mom’s calm told me she was alone as well.
Only then did she let the mask drop and reveal the monster within.
See, it took a monster to know a monster, and she knew there was no point in hiding it from me.
“What do you want?” I asked, when she just looked me up and down with a disgust that wasn’t feigned.
“I can’t believe you let yourself become this,” she rasped. “You had so much potential, Darren.”
I smiled at her. “I’m living my best life, Mom. What can I say? I’m sorry you don’t approve.”
Her eyes narrowed at my sarcasm. “When I asked you to enlist with them, I never thought you’d take to the life so well. At least by being this way, you can help me out at the same time.”
“I live to serve,” I retorted. “What do you need this time? More information?”
I hated going into these things blind, mostly because I never knew what to shove her way to satisfy her. Thankfully, she knew I wasn’t on the council so what I could pick up were only whispers, but our whispers were the equivalent of a bomb blast.
“It’d be a while ago now, but a woman was killed in your neck of the woods.”
My brows rose at that. “Killed?”
She pulled a face. “It pains me to admit that the Sinners do a better job of keeping that place clean than the cops do, but yes, murdered. She was raped, too, from what I can tell. Do you know who it was?”
Genuinely perplexed by this line of questioning, I muttered, “In West Orange itself?”
“You know that new estate the Farquars were building… sounds like it was there or nearby.”
“Where’s this coming from?”
Cruz : A Dark MC Romance (A Dark and Dirty Sinners’ MC Book 5) Page 12