Brute's Strength: Riot MC Biloxi #2

by Karen Renee

  Cynic gave a short nod. “One of them still is because the brother didn’t know Wreck had it. The other card’s been flagged. Either way, the activity in Daytona should get this asshole outta your hair for a while.”

  “Maybe,” Brute conceded. “Thanks for the update.”

  He went to his room for a quick shower. His gut said Strickland wasn’t going to believe the credit card activity, and it left brothers in the Jacksonville chapter open to questioning. If they were caught.

  The only upside was that Strickland had no way of knowing where the body had been buried.

  The downside was that bringing Kenzie and her daughter into this in any way screamed this man was unhinged.

  Dad’s words came back to him. ‘Your ass ever went missing, I’d make waves like a tsunami to get you back and get justice.’ In doing that, Brute had no doubt his dad would be out of his mind and open to extreme measures for answers, let alone justice.

  His gut burned with the knowledge Kenzie needed to keep an extremely close eye on her daughter. All because of him.

  As he turned on the shower water, he muttered to himself, “Have to cut her off, tonight.”

  With the shower spray pelting his sudsy scalp, he realized it wouldn’t matter.

  Even if he broke things off, Truman Strickland knew who she was, where she worked, where she lived, and what her daughter looked like. The die was cast.

  What kind of coward would he be if he pushed her aside now?

  No. He was a fighter, if nothing else, and he deserved to be stripped of the patch on his back and his cut if he turned his back on her now.

  With ingrained efficiency, he soaped the rest of his body and finished his shower.

  In his boxer-briefs, he wandered back into his room for a clean pair of jeans and his favorite Harley-Davidson t-shirt. He sat on his bed to tug on his boots, then he shot his dad a quick message that he’d be there in fifteen to pick up the fried green tomatoes.

  Chapter Sixteen

  More Serious Than I Normally Am

  Kenzie

  The kitchen timer beeped incessantly, but my eyes were glued to the text message on my phone.

  No need to pick up Aubrey tomorrow. You can get her on Saturday.

  I shook my head, turned off the timer, donned my oven-mitts, and pulled the salmon from the oven. I put it on the oven with more force than intended. Then, I tossed the oven-mitts on the counter.

  “There’s no way,” I muttered to myself.

  It was a rare thing for Caleb’s travel to get changed, and certainly not last minute like this. My gut told me this was his passive-aggressive way to punish me for dating Brute.

  Which wasn’t Caleb’s business, until I introduced Brute to Aubrey.

  I debated calling Veronica, because if Caleb was out of town, she would be on her own with Aubrey. Not that they didn’t get along, or that Veronica wasn’t capable, but that didn’t seem like something she’d be willing to take on. Especially if she was separating from Caleb.

  Brute would be here at any moment. I took a deep breath to calm myself. He didn’t need me unloading this on him.

  I put together a salad, and had pulled the baked potatoes from the oven when the doorbell chimed.

  Through the peephole, I saw Brute on the stoop holding a foil-wrapped platter.

  With a wide grin, I opened the door. “Hi there!”

  Something in his grinning expression said he found me amusing. “Hi yourself, babe.”

  As he came inside, I realized he had a backpack over his shoulder. “You’re just in time. The fish and potatoes are out of the oven. The broccoli will be another couple of minutes.”

  He plunked the platter on a side table, wrapped an arm around my hips, and pulled me to him. “That’s great, but I’m overdue for a kiss.”

  My head tilted back with my laughter. He ran his nose along the column of my throat making my breath catch. When I straightened up, he planted a kiss on me that rivaled our first kiss at the restaurant over two weeks ago.

  When it ended, I felt dazed and my mouth ran away from me. “You give exceptional kisses, Sam.”

  He laughed. “Exceptional, eh?”

  A different kitchen timer beeped before I could answer. I grabbed the platter from the side table. “You heard me. Now, you’ve got enough time to drop your bag, and I’ll have your dinner plated.”

  He grabbed my free hand, stopping my progress. “Don’t you dare unwrap those. I want to see your face. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His head tilted, and the look on his face said I should think twice about my choice of words, but he stalked away to my bedroom.

  I put the platter on the island, took the broccoli from the oven, and plated up our food.

  As I scattered shredded cheddar cheese on our servings of broccoli, Brute came up behind me wrapping one arm around my belly. “Wow. As good as that looks and smells, I’m not so sure Dad’s fried green tomatoes are gonna measure up, Zee.”

  I twisted in his hold, smiling. “I’m sure they will. Are you going to unveil them now?”

  “You are a goof.”

  I shrugged because he was right.

  We ate, and he told no lies. His father’s fried green tomatoes were better than Cora’s.

  I snatched the last one from the platter before he could stab it with his fork. “Split it?”

  He smirked, “No, you go ahead.”

  “Is your dad married?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Gonna leave me for Dad and his tomatoes, are you?”

  I shook my head. “No. My mother’s single. I figure she might have better luck than you at getting the recipe out of him.”

  He stared at me a moment, then roared with laughter. “Now that is some funny shit, Zee. You think... The man won’t even give me, his only son, the recipe. If that isn’t dedication to a secret, I don’t know what is.”

  I nodded. “Right, but Mom can be very persuasive.”

  He arched a brow. “All women can be persuasive in the bedroom, Zee. But I don’t think Gina would like it if I introduced your mom to Dad. He finally found himself a keeper.”

  “He has a girlfriend then,” I said.

  His head shook. “They’re married.”

  My brows furrowed. “Then why didn’t she come by your place on Saturday?”

  He chuckled. “If she’d known I had someone I’m serious about there, she would have been there.”

  My belly dipped pleasantly. “We’re serious?”

  “More serious than I normally am. Anyway, Gina’s not into football. That’s why Dad dropped by alone.”

  I nodded. “I’m glad he has that.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a shit liar, babe.”

  My eyes widened. “I’m not lying. I just wish Mom had that. Whenever I bring it up, she turns it back on me.”

  He nodded, but somehow I thought I had said the wrong thing.

  Brute finished the last of the broccoli and gave me a hard look. “This is a great dinner, Zee. But, I have to wonder why you’re so tense?”

  “I’m not tense,” I lied.

  Him picking up on my tension surprised me. Even when we were married, Caleb didn’t sense me being tense until things were at the breaking point.

  As I speared a tomato in my salad bowl, Brute sighed. “Well, you’re still a lousy liar.”

  I exhaled slowly and rested my fork in the bowl. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.”

  He pointed his beer bottle at me. “Lucky for you, the day’s done and your evening will definitely be better.”

  AFTER DINNER, BRUTE guided us to the bedroom.

  “Where’s your underwear drawer?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He arched a brow and pulled open a small drawer on the dresser, but it held my socks. Looking over his shoulder at me, he asked, “You wouldn’t keep a vibrator with your socks, would you?”

  I wheezed out a laugh, in part from his assumptions on where I’d keep it, but
mainly out of embarrassment.

  “No. You’re assuming I have a vibrator.”

  He turned around. “This is not the night to perfect your lying, Kenzie. Something tells me you’ve got a toy, and I want to use it on you.”

  I protested, but he kissed me long and hard. Things escalated with each of us stripping the other of clothing. Before I could push his boxer briefs down his legs, he stopped me.

  “Get your vibe, baby.”

  My lips pulled to the side.

  “Trust me. I rock your world, but me plus your toy will make whatever the hell’s eating at you vanish.”

  I handed over my vibrator, and had my world rocked.

  While my breathing slowed afterward, I caught him staring at me. His eyes were speculative, as if he were arguing with himself. I shook my head, feeling embarrassed all over again.

  His lips tipped up. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. Can’t decide if I like how relaxed and pliable you are now, or if I prefer you wound up tight and fighting with me. It’s obvious you needed me to work my magic on you because even though you have this vibrator... you ain’t using it right, if you’re using it at all.”

  He had it right in the end. I wasn’t using it at all.

  “I wasn’t fighting with you,” I whispered.

  He crawled up the bed, laying down next to me. A grin played at his lips. “Maybe I should’ve goaded you into a fight instead.”

  My eyes widened. “What? You’re crazy.”

  His teeth nipped at my collar bone. “Maybe. But I’ll bet my bike, angry sex with you is off the fuckin’ charts.”

  I shook my head, then turned toward him and scooted down the bed. “Speaking of off the charts. Would you like me to reciprocate?”

  He dragged me back up his body. “Nope. Won’t take much for me to get off right now. Then when I clean up, we’ll talk about shit.”

  Confusion washed over my face because I couldn’t imagine what ‘shit’ we had to discuss.

  He read it, chuckled, then rolled so I was pinned to the bed. His hips hovered over me, his cock an inch away from my pussy. “Went to the doc today. Should hear back Thursday, Friday at the latest. Know I’ve gone in bare already, but we shouldn’t have done that.”

  He reached out, grabbed a condom, and tore it open. I watched as, standing up on his knees, he put on the condom. He lowered his body while his cock slid inside me. I loved being connected to him.

  Things went faster than normal, and within fifteen minutes Brute emerged from the bathroom.

  I had the sheet over my breasts. He lifted it high from his side of the bed, and grinned at the sight of my torso.

  “In case I haven’t said it, you got a great rack, Zee.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  He shifted closer to me, one of his arms snaked under me, and he pulled me snug to him.

  “All right. You need to keep tighter tabs on your daughter.”

  My head reared back. “Excuse me? What are you talking about? Tighter tabs?”

  His brown eyes were earnest. “I mean, don’t let her play in the front yard without you watchin’. Or the backyard.”

  “Brute, you’re scaring me.”

  He stroked my back. “I don’t mean to scare you, but in a way I’m glad you’re scared, because this is serious. Should’ve put it together last night when your ex stopped by, but I didn’t.”

  I tried to pull further away, but he held me firm. “Put what together?”

  “Strickland shouldn’t know who your ex-husband is. My guess is while he was watching you, he caught sight of your daughter. Keepin’ tabs on who picks up your girl means he knew who her Daddy is, and he could make an approach at that restaurant.”

  Guilt and dread surged through my chest. He thought he should have put it together, but I should have figured that shit out immediately.

  My head dropped forward on to his broad chest. “How did I miss that?” My head shot up. “Oh God! Do you think he’s gonna try to take Aubrey?”

  Brute’s other arm wrapped around me. “No, Kenzie. I don’t. But I don’t like your daughter being involved in this in any way.”

  I could feel the crazed look in my eyes. “Maybe we should stop seeing each other in the open. Figure out a way to hide it or—”

  He pushed forward so I was on my back and he loomed over me.

  “Woman, calm yourself. He’s made no threats to your girl. As to us ‘hiding,’ that isn’t gonna fuckin’ happen. I don’t hide, and I’m not about to start.”

  I deep-breathed for a long moment. What Brute said was true. Still, I had to protect my little girl.

  “Then how am I going to keep her safe?”

  “You shouldn’t have to do anything.”

  “What? I’m not a woman who lives by the word ‘should.’ The road to hell is paved by should, could, and would.”

  He chuckled. “That’s good to know. But, Strickland’s gonna get a call about his brother being in Daytona. That’ll get him outta your hair for a few days.”

  My brows furrowed. “But his brother’s dead.”

  His lips pressed together, and I noticed he had more stubble than usual. Then I realized he didn’t shave this morning, since he stayed with me.

  “There’s no proof his brother’s dead since there isn’t a body. So, the credit card activity in Daytona isn’t something he can ignore. Not if he’s truly concerned about his brother’s whereabouts.”

  Brute

  AT FIVE AFTER SIX THE next morning, Brute stood in front of one of the sinks in Kenzie’s bathroom. His face was lathered with shave cream and he was concentrating on not nicking himself. Yet that didn’t stop him from contemplating what he’d do first to remodel her bathroom. It was a decent bathroom, but mainly because of the decorative touches. Overall, it was poorly laid out. A door separated the toilet and shower stall from the Jack-and-Jill vanity. It worked if you needed that sort of privacy every day, but.... Then he realized he was redoing her home in his head, and that wasn’t right. He’d spent three nights here. Suggesting a bathroom remodel was wrong on so many levels.

  A creaking sound from the doorway grabbed his attention, and he saw Kenzie leaning on the doorjamb and watching him. She looked appealing, holding a cup of coffee in each hand, but the combination of her disheveled hair, tank top, and skimpy shorts made his dick twitch. After a moment of her staring, he arched a brow at her.

  She grinned. “Do you want your coffee on the counter? Or I’ll take it to the kitchen so you can nuke it or something...”

  “No need. I’ll be done soon.”

  She put the cup on the counter, turned, and left. When he heard the clatter of hangers, he knew she was in the walk-in closet. He finished shaving and downed half his coffee before it got cold. She ambled back to the bathroom, but stopped dead at the sight of him.

  “Something on your mind, darlin’?”

  “Not... er, not really. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you clean-shaven. No offense or anything, but I’m thinking I prefer the stubble.”

  He chuckled. “Can’t have stubble if I don’t shave every now and then.”

  Her lips quirked the side for a beat. “This is true.”

  He put his razor in his kit while she bustled into the shower area. She came back out, a strange look on her face. Yet, she didn’t say anything.

  “Kenzie, I know somethin’ is on your mind. Spit it out.”

  She sighed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man in my bathroom. That’s all.”

  “You’re still a shit liar. There’s something else goin’ on.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you’re planning to drop by again tonight. If you are, Aubrey will be here.”

  His heart rate picked up a touch. He wobbled his head a little.

  “That’s up to you, babe. If you think it’s too early for me to meet her, then I’ll stay away. But, I’ll tell you right now, either me or another Riot MC member will be watching your house, since
you’ll be here alone.”

  Her facial expression shifted, and when she opened her mouth he knew she would argue. So he spoke first.

  “Non-negotiable, Zee. I told you last night to be on high-alert with this bastard. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna do what I can to make sure you’re safe. Because bottom line, if you’d never met me, you’d never have met Tovar or Strickland.”

  She gave him a cute pout, but it held no venom.

  “Fine. I do think it’s too soon to introduce you and Aubs... though it would probably put the kibosh on her trying to get me and Caleb back together.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

  She nodded. “You’re right.”

  Half-way through turning back to the shower, she halted. “Do you camp?”

  The devious look in her eyes made him leery. “Told you I hunt, and camping normally comes with the territory. But I haven’t done it in over a decade. Why?”

  She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’ll probably be too soon then, too, but—”

  He invaded her space, wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his face toward hers. “Kenzie. Chill, and just tell me why you want me to go camping.”

  Her lips tipped up. “My Cub Scout has a camping trip the first weekend in December. I’m going with her, but Jared will likely be there with his son, and he... likes to stick close to us.”

  He lifted his head. “Define ‘stick close.’”

  She grinned. “Not like that, though I suspect Jared would like that. But they always set up their tent next to ours, and he... I don’t know. I’ll sound crazy when I say this, but it’s almost like he hovers.”

  He tried to hold it back but couldn’t. His head tilted and he laughed.

  She swatted his chest. “This isn’t funny.”

  With one of his hands, he cupped her cheek. “Let me spell it out for you. Your boy Jared—”

  “Not my boy, Sam.”

  He chuckled. “Right. He’s got a thing for you, babe. He isn’t hovering. My guess is he isn’t man enough to make a play for you. Or he doesn’t want to get shot down in front of his son. I’m assuming he has a boy in Cub Scouts, right?”