Killer's Obsession (Phantom Bastards MC Book 5)

by Erin Osborne

  “No, you really didn’t,” Gwen says, stepping in between the bitch and me. “He was buried in my pussy this morning and you were nowhere around. I also believe it’s his name on my back. Again, not yours. I suggest you back the fuck off my man, and the rest of the men in the club, before I beat your ass along with my friends.”

  The skank turns around and slinks back into the shadows as Jennifer, Shy, Sam, Kim, and Sally for a semi-circle behind her. She knows she doesn’t stand a chance against the six of our women. Not many would when they all get their asses together.

  Without saying a word, I bend at my hips and place my shoulder in her stomach. Gwen is over my shoulder as I stride from the club with my hand making sure no one can see her ass. Not a single fucker will be living if they check her ass out. It’s not long before we reach my bike and I place her on it in front of me. My girl wraps her body around mine as I place a helmet on her head and strap it on. Once she’s set, I start my bike and fire up the engine.

  We make it back to the clubhouse in record time. As soon as I’m parked, I lift Gwen off the bike and carry her inside. The helmet is still on her head as she laughs her ass off. I’m definitely showing my caveman side right now. I don’t stop until we’re in our room so I can shut the world out and bury myself deep inside my woman. That’s how we spend the rest of our night; me buried balls deep in Gwen with her moaning my name over and over. I moan out her name more than once.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Gwen

  EVER SINCE I got the first package from whatever asshole has decided to fuck with me, I’ve wanted to revert into the terrified, less than whole, untrusting girl I was when the club first found me. Neil, my father, and the rest of the assholes that beat, tortured, and tormented me will always have space in my mind because that’s all I knew for so long. However, I’m not their damn victim any longer. I refuse to let them put me back in that headspace ever again. I’m stronger than them and I’ll battle all of my demons.

  Coming to Benton Falls showed me one thing; I have a family and people who have my back no matter what. The guys in the club are with Killer on a daily basis out searching for any clues about what’s going on and who’s after me. Each and every ol’ lady and female associated with the club, other than the house bunnies, are there for me to vent to and let out all of my fears and pain. They still don’t know everything I went through and that needs to change. So, while Killer is gone and the rest of the men are either with him or working, I’ve sent out a mass text to have the girls come see me at the club.

  I’m nervous as hell and not looking forward to filling the women in on what happened to me, but I think they have a right to know. Especially when some asshole is now bringing this shit back and bringing it to Benton Falls. At this point in time, I’m their only target. That could all change in the blink of an eye and I refuse to let any of these women get hurt because I couldn’t open up to them. So, I’ll lay my soul bare and let them hear all the shit very few people know. Plus, it’s not fair they open up about their lives and I’ve barely given them anything about myself in return.

  I sent the message out about an hour ago and have been impatiently waiting the entire time now. I’ve paced the room I share with Killer, sat out in the common room with the TV on even though I wasn’t paying attention to what’s playing, and I’ve drank two bottles of water. I want to read, but there’s no way in hell I’ll be able to concentrate on anything in front of me. My nerves are through the roof because this is one of the hardest things I’ll ever do in my life. Sharing these memories and what I’ve been through will lay me bare for everyone to criticize. Yeah, Killer and my counselor know along with the women at the group meeting. It’s an entirely different feeling when it’s women you know, love, and respect.

  All the girls are here now, and I’ve decided I don’t want to talk inside the clubhouse. There are too many ears who don’t need, or deserve, to hear my story. So, we all walk outside with drinks in our hands. I’ll need one or two in order to get through this. Especially with Kim here. She’s my sister by blood and doesn’t know what our sperm donor put me through. I’m sure she has an idea, but nothing in her mind compares to reality I’m sure.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asks me when we reach a spot far enough from the clubhouse where no one will overhear us talking.

  “Well, here’s the thing. I’ve been lying to myself about needing to keep all of my shit to myself. Killer knows it all and it’s not fair not a single one of you do. So, you’re here today so I can let you know what my past is. With everything going on, I want you all to know what happened to me, so it doesn’t happen to you because of these cock fucks,” I inform them.

  Taking a deep breath and sip of my drink, I let myself go in my head so I can ignore the women sitting in front of me. After one final deep breath I launch into my story. There isn’t a single detail I leave out, the same I did with Killer. These people are the only ones who have gotten the entire story. Even the women of my group didn’t get every, gritty detail. They got most of them, but that’s it. It’s my story and I get to choose who gets what part of it. No one else can do that.

  As I’m talking and sharing my story, I hear the women surrounding me sniffling. When I look up at their faces, tears are streaking down their cheeks. My heart breaks at not only my pain but the looks of anguish filling my sister’s faces. Each one of these women are my sisters. Kim is the only one by blood, but the rest of these women are my sisters by choice.

  After my brief pause, I continue to fill these women in on my life before coming here. There are a few parts of the story where I choke up and have to take a minute to compose myself. I never once give up on sharing my story with them until I’m done speaking. The second I’m done I sink to the ground and bury my head in my knees and arms. I don’t want to look at anyone or see the pity on their faces. Honestly, I need a few minutes to myself so I can get my tears stopped and not think about the past. It’s time to push these demons which haunt me to the back of my mind and shut them the fuck once and for all.

  When I finally look up, each and every woman is standing in front of me. I’m helped up by Kim and pulled into her arms. She doesn’t let me go as each woman surrounds us and wraps their own arms around our little group. Sam is right behind me while Kim is in front of me. I know Sam is the one behind me because I smell her perfume and her chin is resting on my shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kim says, pulling her head back from me to look me in the eyes. “If I had known about you, I’d have gotten you out of there. I wish I could take this pain from you and carry it on my shoulders. Make it so you never had to go through an ounce of what’s been done to you. Gwen, you’re the strongest woman I know and you’re only going to continue to grow and gain strength as you realize those assholes have no power over you anymore.”

  “We’ve all been through our own shit and shit as ol’ ladies of the club. Gwen, we have nothing on you. Kim’s right, you’re definitely the strongest one out of all of us and I can’t wait to see you when you start realizing how strong you really are and the badass you’ll be when you finally finish growing and doing what you want to do. Our men are going to find these fuckfaces after you and you’ll have your day of justice against them,” Shy tells me, pulling me into her for a hug.

  I’m passed from one woman to the next as they each give me a word of encouragement or praise and hug me. Not a single one of them look at me with disgust or pity in their eyes. Instead I see nothing but love, understanding, and strength coming from them. As I look toward the clubhouse, Killer and the rest of our men are standing there. They remind me of sentinels making sure no one gets close to us. I nod my head at Killer, and he strides toward me. I wipe the last of my tears away as he scoops me up in his arms.

  “Are you okay?” he questions me, placing a gentle kiss against my forehead.

  “Yeah. I feel the best I ever have since coming here. the only ones who don’t know everything are the guys. I don’t want to
share with them. You can if you need to,” I answer him, tucking my face into the side of his neck and inhaling his smell. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life in fear of them coming after me. The only thing I want to do is build a life with you and make sure we’re both getting what we want out of it.”

  “I’ll be there every step of the way Sparrow,” he states, and I know he means every single word of it.

  Slim stops us just before entering. After watching me for several minutes, he nods his head and announces we’re going to order in food. All of us women are drained and don’t want to do much of anything after that talk. Killer carries me in our room and climbs into bed with me still firmly in his arms. He pulls the blanket from the end of the bed up over us and lets me fall asleep in his arms. Sleep is the best thing for me to have right now so I can begin to finish healing the last part of me that’s been broken.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Killer

  I’VE BEEN WORKING at the garage all day long. Gwen’s been at the tattoo shop working so I haven’t had to worry about her as I normally do. Stryker and the rest of the guys are back, and he’s been keeping an eye on her. The only time she’s left is to grab lunch for everyone there. Phantom Ink has been busy as hell, so Gwen’s been running out most days to grab them lunch or drinks when they need it. Rich is on her so it’s not a big deal for her to be leaving. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  Gwen is a creature of habit and grabs the same thing to eat every single day while she’s at work. Especially now since she hasn’t been feeling good. I’ve been trying to talk her into going to the doctor, but she won’t. That girl is stubborn as fuck and she’s gonna end up over my knee if she doesn’t go soon. I have no problem spanking her. Yeah, we’ve tried it while we’re fucking around because she wants to see if anything will trigger her while we’re having sex. So far nothing has.

  Rich went with her like normal and helped her grab the takeout containers of food and their drinks. Since it’s just a few doors down from the shop, the two of them walk back and forth. That is one thing I’m not happy in the least about because we have no clue who’s after her still. I don’t want her out in the open like that, but she doesn’t listen to anyone. She wants to walk and enjoy the fresh air and time in the sun. While I can’t blame her for it, there is no way in hell right now is the time for her to be doing that shit.

  Today’s been a long as hell day. I got a message from Stryker a little while ago letting me know he was sending Gwen home early. She’s not feeling good after eating her lunch and he doesn’t want her in the shop when she’s not feeling good. Even if it’s nothing contagious, Gwen or anyone else sick doesn’t need to be around people getting tattooed and pierced. I’m worried about her, but I can’t leave the shop as we’re busy as hell today.

  I’ve been counting down the hours until closing time. My only thought is getting to my ol’ lady so I can make sure she’s okay. There isn’t going to be any fighting from her today; she’s going to the fucking doctor and I don’t care if she doesn’t like it or not. Gwen’s health is more important than her stubbornness. Plus, I’m worse than her so she’s going to lose this battle.

  “You gettin’ a beer with us?” Playboy asks as we begin to clean everything up.

  “Nope. Gwen got sent home sick today and I need to get to her. She’s been sick for a while now. Keeps refusin’ to go to the doctor. So, I’m makin’ her today,” I let him know.

  “I’ll head back with you. Want me to have Sam check on her before we get there?” he asks me.

  “No. She’s got the boys and I’d feel horrible if they got sick,” I say, not wanting him to have sick babies to deal with on top of everything else.

  “Let’s get the fuck outta here then. The rest of this shit can wait until the mornin’,” he orders, tossing down his rag on the bench and looking at me.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I finish wiping down my hands before following him out. We’re usually the last two guys here when we’re working here so it’s no surprise we’re last to leave today. The rest of the guys cut out so they can get a drink or find a piece of ass for the night. Playboy and I don’t have to worry about that shit and would rather spend our free time with our women and the rest of the family. So, we always stay a little later than everyone to get more work done.

  We straddle our bikes and rev the engines before taking off. It doesn’t take long to get to the clubhouse since we try to keep our businesses as close as possible. If anything happens, we’re right there to take care of any problems that may arise. Plus, it’s not unheard of for the assholes gunning for us to try and take out our business.

  Pulling into the clubhouse, we park in our spots before heading inside. Rich is sitting at the end of the bar with his phone resting in front of him and a bottled water in his hand. When he sees me striding inside, he immediately stands up.

  “Killer, she’s resting upstairs in your room. Just after eating lunch she started feeling like shit. Got real pale and was sweating profusely. She didn’t feel like she had a fever when I brought her back. I drove her car and left my bike at the shop because she was also feelin’ weak as hell,” he informs me, regret and pain filling his face.

  Rich and Gwen have gotten close since he’s usually the one guarding her. If I thought he was after my woman, he’d be buried already, but they treat one another like a brother and sister would.

  “It’s okay. I’m goin’ up with her now. If I need anythin’ I’ll let you know,” I state, walking past him so I can get to my room.

  I take the stairs two at a time as Playboy sits next to Rich. When I get to my door, it’s sitting partially open. That’s weird considering Gwen never leaves the door open. Walking in, I see her lying on top of the covers, her clothes and shoes still on. Gwen’s feet are dangling over the edge of the bed. For a quick minute, it looks as if she’s not breathing. Rushing to her side, I try to wake her up.

  “Gwen. Sparrow, wake up for me,” I practically yell, shaking her a little bit. “Gwen!”

  I yell out, sitting her up and continuing to try and wake her up. Nothing is working. Panic and dread fill me as I try to find her pulse. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not in my right mind or if it’s because she’s not breathing, but I don’t find anything. Picking up my woman, I run out of the room with her in my arms.

  “Someone fuckin’ help me!” I yell through the clubhouse.

  The second I reach the bottom of the stairs, Playboy, Rich, and Slim are at my side. Stryker is just walking in the door and rushes to our side.

  “What’s goin’ on?” Slim asks, looking at Gwen from head to toe.

  “I don’t know. Stryker sent her home early because she didn’t feel good. Rich said she went up to lay down. Now, I can’t wake her up. I’m goin’ to the hospital,” I announce to them, pushing past them as the rest of the guys follow me.

  Slim and Playboy are on their phones so I’m sure the rest of the club and women will be there soon. I’d call an ambulance, but they tend to take their time getting to our clubhouse. Most of the time whoever they’re coming for is already dead or we don’t care to have them taken away by ambulance. Add in that they’re coming to a clubhouse and they don’t like it. We’re all criminals they don’t want to help. It doesn’t matter if one of the women needs help. It’s definitely quicker for me to take her myself.

  Rich opens the back door of the SUV and I slide in with Gwen still in my arms. Playboy is in the driver’s seat while Rich jumps into the passenger side. The rest of the guys who are here jump on their bikes and start them up. Still, Gwen doesn’t respond at all. My chest hurts and my breathing is rapid as I don’t take my eyes off of her. For the first time in my life, I pray as Playboy rushes us to the hospital.

  His phone is going off the entire trip and he completely ignores it. I don’t bother going for mine as I feel it vibrate in my pocket repeatedly. Whoever it is can wait because Gwen is the most important thing here and until I know what’s going on with h
er, no one else matters to me.

  We’ve been in the waiting room at the hospital for hours. It seems as if time is dragging by as we wait for any news on Gwen. I’ve asked repeatedly and almost been taken out of here by the security guards. The two men who work here are now stationed right outside the waiting room. I’m still not answering my phone or talking to anyone as a million different thoughts flood my mind about what’s going on with her.

  Most of the men are sitting in the chairs. To anyone not familiar with them, they’d appear relaxed and calm. In reality, they’re waiting for the slightest sign there’s either trouble meeting us here or ready to hold me back if I decide to tear the place apart. Playboy and Rich haven’t left my side as I pace back and forth only looking up when the door opens up.

  I’ve been to the front desk numerous times in order to find out any information about my woman. The lady sitting there is terrified and tries to rush off every single time I walk her way. I haven’t yelled at her once as I ask about my woman. There’s nothing she can tell me yet other than they’re still examining her and waiting on test results. Still the last time I roared out my pain and frustration, the security guards made an appearance only adding fuel to the fire because I don’t need them here. None of us are here to cause problems; we only want my woman to get better.

  The women who are here already are clinging to their men. Tears continuously streak down their faces as we try to figure out what’s goin on with Gwen. Stryker is a mess too. He’s blaming himself for whatever is happening. He believes he should’ve caught something earlier. There is no way for him to do anything because she hasn’t been feeling good. I probably would’ve thought the same thing he did about her just being sick again and sent her home.