GRIFFIN: Lost Disciples MC

by Paula Cox

  “So, I hear you’ve been going out with some of the guys every night,” Emanuel stated although Griffin knew that it should be a question.

  “Yeah.”

  “Those guys do a lot of good work for us. However, they’ve gone about as far as they are going to go in the club, and because of that, I am not sure that you should be spending that much time with them after hours.”

  Shame flooded Griffin’s veins at that moment. It was as though he had been caught doing something wrong, or something he was not supposed to, maybe even something reserved for so-called “adults”, and he was destined to be shut out of it. The shame was quickly chased by anger; nearly everything was for him at that age, and he found his emotions imploding inward, waiting for that final trigger that would make it become rage.

  “I’ll do what I want,” Griffin mumbled, feeling his hands start to shake. Emanuel shook his head in that way that implied that he knew so much more about the situation than Griffin did. Adults were always doing that sort of thing to kids, and it often drove Griffin crazy. What was the point of being expected to act like an adult if people were still going to treat you like a kid?

  “No, you are part of this club now; you are part of this family, and if I see someone going off the deep end, I am going to say something. Now I don’t think you are there yet, but I don’t want you becoming like those guys.”

  “I don’t see what’s so wrong with them.”

  “They’re using drugs, Griffin.”

  “So? Who doesn’t use drugs? It seems like every single Disciple out there does drugs, so why can’t I join them? It is fun. I get to make friends; everyone’s happy.”

  “I’d never touch the stuff they touch,” Emanuel said.

  “That’s because you are the boss, you are already set. Like you have any idea of what it is like for the new guys out there…”

  “I started out a new guy. Every man in this club has, and for your information, less guys in the club do drugs than you think. In fact, a lot of the guys around here are sober. You are going to throw their years of sobriety in their face simply because you came in here carrying a different perception?”

  Griffin did not know what to say, but the anger roiled inside of him so hard that he almost felt sick.

  “I don’t have no problem, Emanuel, and plus, those guys are nice to me. I don’t think there is anything wrong with them.”

  Emanuel had made a little snort then, and Griffin felt himself get pushed to the brink. “You wouldn’t think there was, and maybe that means that you are already a lost cause.”

  How many times had Griffin heard that? When his mom was giving up on him because of his grades, because he would rather spend time with the guys down at the bike shop? He could handle that from his family because he knew that they weren’t really family, but he could not handle that from the person who was supposed to accept him at his worst.

  He did not even realize that he did it, but all of a sudden he was on his feet, moving towards Emanuel with all of his anger. His plan might have been to slam Emanuel against the wall, scream some angry and empty words into his face. That was the plan, at least, but instead, the world shifted and all of a sudden his head was slammed into the desk hard, his arm was twisted up behind his back at an angel that screamed that if he moved, the bone might break. Griffin could heard his own frenzied, ragged breathing, saw it steam up the smooth, fake wood of the desk.

  Emanuel waited until Griffin’s anger had passed. It only took a few minutes, but Griffin had a feeling that he would have been willing to wait hours. As long as it took.

  After letting him go, Griffin sat back down on the chair across from him, rubbing the sore spot developing in his elbow, trying so hard not to say something he knew he would regret.

  Emanuel sat down again. “What do you say?”

  “What?” Griffin asked.

  “What do you say?”

  He knew what he was supposed to say, but a serious part of him did not want to say it. He did not want to give this authority figure that kind of satisfaction. Yet, something in his angry teenage mind reminded him that if he was not willing to apologize, if he was not willing to move forward, he wouldn’t end up anywhere. That to him felt worse than giving in.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. It was only two words, but it shocked him how much he meant it. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he said it, and he quickly wiped away the tears before they could form, before he thought that Emanuel had seen it.

  It was too late, he had. However, instead of laughing or mentioning it, Emanuel just nodded and stood.

  “Maybe there is hope for you yet,” he said, moving to pat Griffin on a shoulder.

  “Do you really think so?” Griffin had asked.

  “I don’t just tell people that to blow smoke up their asses,” Emanuel said. “Of course I think you have potential. I bet if you set your mind straight you’ll be running this place when I am gone.”

  Griffin did not understand what happened next, but all of a sudden he was crying. They were ugly childhood tears, full of snot and little gasps as he fought for air. Emanuel watched him cry for a minute before he walked over and wrapped the boy into a tight hug.

  Griffin could not remember the last time he had been hugged by anyone, even his mother. It came as a shock at first, until slowly it started to feel wonderful. The hug felt paternal; it felt like belonging. Young Griffin hung his head with an almost visceral thankfulness.

  He never touched a hard drug again.

  ***

  Now he stood there, staring Damon down, and he wondered what kind of leader he would really be in that situation. What would Damon have done to a young teenaged Griffin? Probably nothing. Griffin would have been shocked if Damon had noticed a single damn thing in the younger ranks of the club. Although it was not the same as when he had first started out, not many teenagers were interested in the club anymore, not like Griffin was complaining. They had plenty of people in the club and weren’t really looking to recruit. Well, recruit anyone that was not Natasha, anyway.

  Damon leaned close, as though about to tell him a secret, his eyes intense, crowding Griffin. “Just listen to what I said, okay?”

  Griffin stared him down completely unafraid. “No.”

  “You are being ridiculous, I just said listen, alright? Listening is free, and a lot less dangerous to do than not.”

  As much as Griffin did not want to give him the satisfaction of giving in, he also knew that it was a lot easier to give in at the moment than to have to hear it over and over and over again. Letting out a small sigh of frustration, he shrugged. “Fine. I’ll think about what you said.”

  He had no actual intention of mulling over Damon’ warning, thinking it was a ridiculous thing to say in the first place. Instead, he’d pretend that he was in order to move on from the conversation. That way he wouldn’t have to listen to him again.

  Damon’ eyes narrowed and Griffin was waiting for the next shoe to drop, for the entire situation to explode. Instead, he merely took a step back. “Good,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As Griffin left his president’s kitchen, he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Instead, he tried to think about something else, about tomorrow, about the mission, and most importantly, about the fact that Natasha was waiting for him at this very moment.

  Chapter 18

  As Griffin moved inside of her, Natasha knew something was off. In fact, she knew it from the moment he walked into the room, all tired and worn, immediately walking over to collapse on the bed and into her arms. She liked him there. It had been incredibly nice, but she wished that he had not crawled into her arms so incredibly tense.

  In spite of her original vow to go back to Austin at the first opportunity, Griffin had absolutely thrown a wrench into that. However, most of it was her fault. She could have left whenever she wanted. It was not as though the Los Diablos were above the law outside of the confines of Brazos.

 
Yet, there was something about what was happening, the murder of her father and the boldness of the Los Diablos that made her want to stay and figure it all out. There was a certain sort of fascination that kept her there, even more than the allure of Griffin.

  Although she had to admit, Griffin definitely helped.

  Either way, she had to see it to the end, and there was something very unsettling about how it would end, thanks to how tense Griffin was.

  He had entered the room carrying the tension in his shoulders, and she could feel it inside of him like a livewire while he lay there, wrapping his arms around her. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but she already knew what was wrong. What else could it be? Ten minutes passed—but only the atmosphere began to change.

  With his head level with her breasts, he began to move against her, kissing the tops of her breasts that peeked through her tank top, moving his way up her neck. At first she was not sure if she wanted to go through with it, but as he made his way to her mouth, she found herself kissing him back with mounting passion. He ignited desire inside of her with a single kiss, and soon she was tearing at his shirt. He had pulled down her top to take her breasts in his mouth, and she moaned in the back of her throat with appreciation.

  Distantly, she realized that their clothing had been hastily shoved aside, and her hands ran over the tight, hard muscles in his arms and across his chest. He handled her with restraint, as though he was afraid that he would tear through her with the intensity of his lust. His slowness began to drive her mad. She wanted him to take her, but he wouldn’t. Slowly, his fingers slipped down between her legs, working inside of her with that same deliberate tenderness. Her hips moved to match his rhythm, and she could feel the burning begin to grow inside of her.

  Not one to be passive, she moved her own hands down to feel the hard length of him, gently stroking the velvety softness that was still so hard. She imagined it filling her, pounding into her, and the desire built and built until she was gasping in his arms.

  “Please,” she whispered. “Please give it to me.”

  He wouldn’t. Instead, with his same shaking intensity, he kissed down her naked body, positioning himself between her legs until he reached that spot, that utterly delicious spot that made her legs shake as she cried out to God.

  She rode the orgasm as it burst inside of her, bucking her hips and grabbing at his thick black hair. He paused, as she shuddered—until the last spasms of pleasure ripped through her. Then he moved back up to position his hardness against her wet lips. She looked up at him and could see the tension, the fear, and the worry. She watched it momentarily melt away as he entered her, causing her to gasp again.

  He moved inside of her slowly, letting out a moan of his own, until he could not hold back any longer. His movements went harder, choppier, full of his own desire as it mixed with hers. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to kiss her again. His tongue worked his way into her mouth, caressing against her own tongue. She could still feel that terrible tension in his arms, the fear still lived inside of him, but she did not care. She wrapped her legs around his waist and spurned him on as he went deeper and deeper.

  They both climaxed at the same time, and she felt the tension leave him as he did, letting out a strangled cry. She held him closely, as he shivered in her arms. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek, the ragged breathing of a man who had taken his pleasure.

  They lay together for what seemed like hours—until Natasha thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep. It was only then that he lifted his head, placed a kiss on her cheek, and withdrew from her. She let out a little sound of loss as he left her and rolled onto his side beside her. Almost automatically, she moved towards him, laying her head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her.

  “So,” she said quietly. “Tomorrow?”

  She felt the tension return and almost cursed herself for even saying anything, until she remembered that she was in this, too, and deserved to know everything that was happening. Griffin let out a long breath.

  “Yes, it is happening tomorrow.”

  She sat up, her long, blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. She had so much to say, but suddenly felt very vulnerable saying it. She looked over at him. His eyes were closed, but she could tell that he was still awake.

  “Would it be foolish of me to tell you to be careful?”

  One eye opened. “No, I mean, I was planning on not being careful, so I guess now I have to rethink that.”

  Annoyance snapped through her. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

  “Well, this is not my first rodeo, sweetheart. I know what I am doing.”

  “I don’t care if you do. This is all relatively new to me, and I wish you’d get that.”

  Griffin pulled her back down beside him, wrapping a strong arm around her and holding her close. He placed a little kiss on the top of her head, and she felt a little calmer, but not by much.

  “I am sorry,” he said after they lay in silence for a while. “I sometimes forget that you are not an old hand at this. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are kind of a natural.”

  Natasha sneered. “There is a wrong way to take that?”

  “Given the fact that you are staunchly against joining the club, I figured you would take it the wrong way.”

  Griffin was not wrong, and it gave Natasha pause. She did not want to join the club, why would she? After so many years of watching it destroy her family, after the short period of time she had actually spent with Griffin, how could she simply declare her allegiance to the club so quickly? She moved away from him again, propping herself up on one elbow to take a look at his face. It seemed serene now—although she knew that there was still tension bubbling under the surface.

  “How are you so sure?” she asked, startling herself with the heaviness of the question. She had not wanted to ask it, not yet, but every time they spoke about this, it came to the forefront of her mind again.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, looking up at her. He seemed almost innocent in the dim light of the cheap hotel lamp. She brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead with surprising tenderness, always a little afraid to do so for fear that the intimacy might become too much.

  “You want me to join in, and you know what that means.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “I’ll be your Old Lady. I’ll basically belong to you. You are okay with that?”

  Griffin looked confused as he studied her face. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?”

  She gave a little laugh at that, brushing her hair out of her eyes and over one shoulder. How could she adequately explain what she meant without insulting him?

  Oh, who was she kidding? Griffin was not fragile. She was pretty sure that she could say whatever she wanted and it would barely hit.

  “Well, I gathered that you weren’t really the girlfriend type before I came along.”

  Griffin laughed, which surprised Natasha a lot more than she thought it would.

  “No, I really wasn’t, but you wouldn’t be my girlfriend.”

  Natasha bit back some outrage. What did he mean by that? Would she be expected to be bound to him while he went out and slept with whatever girl struck his fancy? Did he really think that sort of thing was going to fly with her? If that was the case, he definitely had no idea about who she was and what she was about. She was not some passive little princess who was going to sit by and let him come and go as he pleased. She was strong and smart, and she deserved his respect.

  She was about to open her mouth and explain all of this to him, but he had already caught her look of outrage and chuckled a bit.

  “It is more than that,” he explained. “An Old Lady rides with you. She’s it. She’s not just some girlfriend that you call up whenever you feel like it. She’s a partner. She’s smart; she on point; she won’t take shit from anyone, and I wouldn’t let anyone give her any shit. It is just understood.”

  “So you
wouldn’t go around and sleep with other girls?”

  Griffin laughed harder. “Why would I? I have everything I need right here.”

  He grabbed at her thigh and kissed at her neck, and Natasha found that she was far more relieved at this than she should have been. For a person who wanted to run away from all this, she was pretty damn surprised to find a warmth growing in her chest at the thought of being his and only his, while he’d be hers and only hers.

  “You seem so sure,” she said, voicing the final concern that she had.

  “I am, but I am not. This scares the shit out of me, but I’ve never met any girl like you.”