My body shook and I couldn’t stop it.
“As long as you tell me in time to suck down your come.”
“Baby, almita, you are driving me mad.”
“All punishment isn’t physical.”
I barked out a laugh. As the paddle hit she counted, her voice growing louder as each hit grew harder. I fell into myself down in that dark pit where I felt the pain best. “Ten,” she shouted, breathing hard.
“Move the wand and turn to me.” Her harsh command so different than her sexy count. “Look at me.”
My gaze locked on hers. Cock straining and balls tight.
“You need a come break, I know I’m ready to taste you.”
“Motherfucker, I’m going to lose it.”
“That’s the goal.” Wham, she smacked my balls and again my cock.
“Now,” I bellowed.
In a second she dropped to her knees and swallowed me down. I held her head and fucked her mouth, control gone, all I could do was pump until release claimed me. She stepped away while I still shuddered from the aftershocks.
“Turn up the wand, and place it on your tip.”
Fuck, the wet added extra juice to the shock.
“Are you to blame for my attack? Truth.”
“Yes,” I shouted, unable to lie. It was my fault for not being there to protect her.
“Turn around, like before.”
She knelt on her knees as naked as me. “Left foot.”
“One,” she yelled as the paddle connected with the soles of my feet.
She moved from my feet up my calves with a fast strike that made me crazy. Hard again. My cock throbbed once she reached ten again.
“Remove the wand, turn around.”
I panted, full of pain, it pushed out the blame, the worry, stripped my fear and left me exposed. Only my guilt still covered me.
Using both hands she swung into my cock and I dropped to the floor coughing.
“Stay there.” She held the wheel in her hand. “Give me the wand.”
I did what she said, too immersed to do anything but what was commanded. I’d do anything for another round. “Please.” My voice hoarse, I pleaded.
Her soft hand caressed my face and her lips touched mine for a moment.
“We’re not done, yet.”
Thank fuck because I needed to rid myself of it all, I already felt better than I had since before we’d gone to the lake, but still ghosts haunted me.
She cupped my balls, already swelling from the hit. Each finger sent a new wave of pain through me. Her other hand worked the wheel up my inner thigh and back down, over and over.
“Should I use this on your cock?”
“Yeah, almita, make me burn clean.”
The wheels dug into my balls and I gave a hoarse shout, lost to my obsession.
The pricks of pain were points of distinction in the consuming pain that claimed me.
“Need release?”
I shook my head.
“More pain?”
I nodded.
“Whose fault was my attack?”
“M-m-mine.” It wasn’t true but I was too stubborn to change my answer now.
I lay there and she didn’t speak. The pain washed through me, stripping away the last of my burdens.
“Wrong answer,” she whispered. “We’ll have to be done.”
“Please, you said three, I need—”
“To tell the truth, and you lied to me.”
She was right, and I wanted to cry to think I’d lose the buzz her hits had given me. I wasn’t ready to be done.
“You have one more chance.” Her words held finality. “No lies. And it’s a harder question. May I ask you?”
I nodded, excited by the idea of one last round. “Anything.”
“What made you need pain? What started it?”
Filth covered me, just hearing the question—no, not that—I’d never shared it with anyone.
She lay next to me stroking my hair. “Okay, you don’t have to answer. We can be done.”
I heard the hurt in her voice and I needed to be cleansed now that she’d asked the question. I trusted her so much, could I trust her to love me after I told her?
“My brother taught me so much.” I hated him. “First he showed me how to masturbate when I was barely 11, then he’d catch me doing it and he’d twist my balls laughing, but he’d only let me go if I could come, such as it was, I hadn’t even had a wet dream yet. By my teens I couldn’t get hard without pain. Sometimes, at night, he’d beat me, pull down my pants and squeeze my balls, making me jack off until I came.” I remembered my fear of him. “Once I was too big for him to abuse, the damage was done. I couldn’t get a hard-on without twisting my balls, couldn’t come without it either.”
“But now you can.” The paddle hit my front thigh and then the other.
My cock hardened. “Yeah. By accident I was fighting and realized that did it too, gave me a hard-on. “I fought all the time. Fought and fucked. When I came to the Brotherhood, Val, Marr’s ex, taught me to separate sex and pain, but my need for pain never went away.”
I waited for the pity, the tears. My almita was soft.
“If you can stand, you earned your final ten.” Her cold voice shocked me.
I stood up and this time I needed the wall for support. “Ten more,” I asked, needing the cleansing pain to erase the disgust my memories had coated me in.
“One.” The fast hit burned perfectly.
She counted off with quick strokes that built the burn and the pain down my thighs. The last three were upon us and I savored each one. “Eight.” She slammed the paddle with her full strength, I bet, and still I could have tolerated more.
“Nine.” Hit behind my knees.
“Turn.”
I spun toward her. “Ten.” Right into my gut. Pain exploded through me and every receptor in my body shouted. I was clean.
“On the bed.” She half held me up as she positioned me to fall back on the bed. With light kisses she covered my cock and thighs, teasing the burn of pain.
“Ride me, almita. I love you.” I panted. “Close, sorry.”
She moaned and climbed atop me, giving me her ass and facing my toes. She pushed down and took in all of me, moving up and down in fast bouncing strokes.
“Yeah.”
“Going to come now.” Her pussy clenched on my flaming cock, the pain, the desire, her all wound up inside me pushing me to the end. Her hips bucked up and we slapped together in the wild dance toward orgasm. Then she inserted her finger in my ass.
“Fuck, love you.” My knees tightened and pain shot through me and then pleasure shot through me as I spurted semen inside her.
Her sweet pussy clenched in perfect pulses around my cock as she came with me. “Rock, I love you.”
I was at peace, right with the world.
“You and me, we’re good?” I asked when she turned toward me and slid to the side.
She nodded. “Always. I’d do anything for you, you’re mine. I love you.”
Her words released that last bit of tension holding my chest tight. “I will be there every day, all the time, I was mind-fucked seeing you hurt and unable to fix it.”
A knock sounded and I growled. “Go the fuck away.”
The door swung open and Jericho strode in. “Shit’s happening.”
I threw a sheet over Avery and glared at Jericho.
“Gerald was released, he raised 100,000 dollars to get out.”
“Fuck.” I stood, forgetting the pain, and looked for pants, pulling open the closet.
“Dare’s following him for now.” He glanced toward the bed. “I guess that email riled up some people, you check your phone?�
��
Avery shook her head. “Everyone I care about is right here.”
Shit, those words made me feel good.
“Check it, something’s in the wind.” Jericho strode out.
Once we were both dressed, Avery dug out her phone and swiped the screen. “Shit, I have forty texts and sixty missed calls.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Avery
I called Chet, feeling terrible I hadn’t called him for three days.
“Avery, you okay? Dad’s out and he’s crazy. He put up the farm as collateral to get out.”
I sucked in a breath. We’ve owned that farm for a hundred years. “Is he there?”
“Nope, I’m here with Mom, and the mayor says he was released an hour ago.” Chet sounded worried. “I can’t leave Mom alone.”
I blew out a breath, sad my instincts had been confirmed. “Yeah, Rock’s got me at the club. Why is my phone full of calls?”
“The town is riled up, all but a handful so pissed at Dad that I think they’d beat the shit out of him. Most of the calls are probably people from town wanting to connect, check on you, hell probably to apologize. Like I should—”
“No.” I cut him off. “You did nothing wrong. You had my back this whole time so just stay with Mom and keep her safe. Call if he shows up.”
“Fuck,” Rock yelled from down the hall.
I rushed to him. “What?”
“Two pickups cut Dare off and he lost your... Gerald.” Rock paced the club room.
“Well he ain’t at the farm.”
“Shit.” Jericho dialed a number. “The bastard’s running.”
I hoped like hell that wasn’t the case because we’d lose the Townsend land. That land was Chet’s inheritance.
I listened as Jericho issued orders that I didn’t understand. Rock held me close, already tense, but this wasn’t like before.
“So?” Rock asked Jericho.
“I got everyone looking and we’ll see if we find the prick, but I think he’s gone for now.”
While they talked I read through my texts. Frankie, Carla and even Glory texted me, such sweet words. The judge sent me a message as did Marianne and a half dozen other folks I’d known since I was born—all upset and wanting to know I was okay. Not a single one had a good thing to say about my father. The last text was from the judge apologizing and letting me know Dad had raised the bail. That was three hours ago. If only I’d paid attention to my phone. But it was all too much—my dad’s crazy hate, my mother, Rock in jail. In my head all those things were muddled together and I hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone.
Jericho’s phone rang. “Speak.”
His face grew white. I’d never seen the man lose color like he did now. He glanced to me and growled into the phone. “On my way.” And hung up.
I never had seen him show emotion, let alone look so pissed yet full of regret. “That was Zero, Black Label is on fire. Let’s get to town.”
I don’t know if he said more because nothing made sense after those words. My baby, my shop, couldn’t be burning. I’d put every ounce of my passion into that store, no one would hurt me like that. No one. Not even my deranged father wouldn’t do that to me.
Rock shook me. “Baby, we gotta jet, you wanna come?”
I nodded, still in a fog. He grabbed my hand and I half ran to keep up with him as he hurried to his bike.
We rode into town and I saw the smoke at the edge of town, the fire truck was already there fighting the flames, although they hadn’t won yet, not that it mattered—my shop was dead, ruined, nothing in it would survive the fire, smoke and water, not even the building, too old, it would crumble. Rock parked in front of Marked Man and rushed over to where the bikers gathered.
Like in a dream, I unfastened my helmet and let it drop, I just sat on the bike watching my dream burn, in my heart certain this was my father. And something inside me died to know that he could hate me this much—so much he’d destroy everything. I hugged myself lost and unsure of what to do in this hateful world.
Tears ran down my cheeks and my eyes burned as I watched my building slowly turn from a blackened burning mess into a water-logged shell—she no longer was dying. Black Label was dead and with it part of me died too.
Sharp yells and angry voices broke into my grief. I saw Jericho push Gray, the ex-sheriff. And the bikers lined up ready to kick ass, while I saw some of the same troublemakers who loved to hate the Brotherhood step forward, everyone else stood shocked just watching, including the freaking deputies.
Anger burned bright inside me and I was so completely fucking done with this petty argument that had started because MJ was stupid enough, or smart enough, to leave my dad for the club.
Stupid. Idiotic.
I swung a leg over the bike, stalked through the crowd but no one listened when I shouted. Then I spotted the squad car, hurried over, opening the door and sliding in the front seat. Lucky for me, the buttons were marked. I hit the siren and everyone stared my way. Then I flipped off the siren and turned on the loud speaker. I punched the CB button and shouted into it. “Stop now.”
And crazy as it was everyone stopped. Taking advantage of the moment, I continued. “Show’s over, my store burned out. Get the hell home.”
Shouts started and all I could hear was one thing. “He did it.”
I dug deep because I didn’t want to admit the words aloud because saying it was saying my father hated me, this wasn’t a moment of passion, but a calculated attack. My heart broke a bit as I pushed in the CB mic. “No. This was Gerald’s work, my daddy burned my shop. So you all go home, it’s not the bikers, not anyone here—just one man who hates his daughter.” I dropped the CB mic and sobbed. How could anyone hate me so much?
The door opened and Rock scooped me out. “Come on baby, let me take you away from here.” He carried me into Marked Man’s back room.
I couldn’t stop sobbing. “How...how could he do it?” I cried. “I thought he lo...lov...loved me,” I finally got out.
“We don’t know who did it, but we’ll figure it out, no worries about that.” He kissed my head and I just cried until I thought I’d float away from all the tears I’d wept.
* * *
Seven days since she burned, and still I couldn’t believe my dream was gone. Rock wanted me to be better, to come back to him, but I couldn’t. Getting out of bed was more of a chore than I could handle most days.
Lila had stomped in, demanded my paperwork, and left again. I suppose she was dealing with insurance, but what did it really matter—Black Label wasn’t something to replace, it was an original. A dry chuckle escaped me and I pulled down my shirt to see the tattoo—100% Original. This tattoo was all that was left of my baby.
I was letting my family down, but I couldn’t make myself move, let alone care. Next week everything would be easier. Didn’t they say time healed all wounds?
Marr had called and cursed up one side and down the other, which had made me laugh, but she did remind me I had responsibilities that eventually I’d have to return to. I told her to fuck off, which made her laugh.
Every time I started to let the wound heal, one thought ripped it back open and sliced a little deeper—my dad hated me enough to hurt me and kill my dream. He’d tainted me with his hate. Was that kind of crazy buried in me?
In all honestly the only time I felt anything was in Rock’s arms. Not even losing my shop could numb the emotion of our connections, and part of me wanted him to never stop touching me, but another bitter part wanted to refuse him. I never did.
The door opened and Rock stalked in. “The mayor came by and I’ve got news.”
I glanced at him before I curled up, holding my knees and staring at my toes, which desperately needed painting.
“The Messer brothers burne
d down your shop, but they were likely hired.” He paused and I wanted to look up, but I didn’t have the energy. “By Renegade, this wasn’t your father. Jericho had assigned him out to security, kicked him out of Bound, so he took revenge and hoped to make the town-club thing go up like a wild fire—at least that’s what we’ve pieced together from the brothers and from others. They’re going to arrest the guys who did it now, but we can’t officially trace it back to Renegade.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “It was Brotherhood, not because of my dad?”
He nodded, confusion spreading across his face.
“Thank God.” I stood up and hugged him. “I’ve been going crazy thinking about how much my father had to hate me to take the time to burn my store down even as he was running from the law.” I gulped and stared down. “I know lots of fathers are shitty human beings, but it just was more than I could take, the loss of my family, the way he attacked me, then the shop.” I grinned up at him, feeling hope for the first time in seven days. “I’ve never been happier this was club shit. Not that I like my shop being burned, but at least that’s not another sin to lay at my daddy’s feet.”
“So this is better?” He grimaced.
“Yeah. Now I only gotta figure out a home for my mom.”
“How did you—”
“Chet called me yesterday.”
He pulled me into him and sat with me on his lap. “Kendrick just told me that, and we voted, we’ll set your mom up in one of the apartments in Ardmore—the club owns several places, and she’ll stay rent free while she gets back on her feet, gets a job and all that stuff.”
“Really?” I couldn’t believe the club’s generosity.
He nodded.
“Thank you. Thank you.” I peppered kisses all over his face.
“Yeah, we got you, and I got you. You should’ve come to me yesterday.”
“I know, but I just couldn’t move it was all so much.” I pressed into him holding tight. “Today everything feels possible.”
“I got one more thing.” He looked away from me. “We decided Rebel’s first bounty will be your dad. We can’t let him go after he hurt you.”
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