Exacting Revenge

by Kimmie Easley

  The sun peers through the sheet hanging loosely across the window. I inhale deeply as Jo begins to stir, planting a kiss on her satin lips.

  “Morning, sugar. I’d ask how you slept, but the snoring said it all” I snicker.

  She throws a pillow at me. “Oh, shut up. I don’t snore,” she says sleepily.

  “No, you don’t. You’re perfect. You slept like a baby.”

  She snuggles in closer. “That’s more like it.”

  A loud bang on the bedroom door sends us jumping. “Yeah?”

  “Breakfast, you snooze, you lose.” Ruth hollers through the wall.

  “Shit, I’m so embarrassed by the way I acted when we got in last night.” She drops her face in her hands.

  “Come on babe. They get it. It’s a volatile situation. They understand.”

  She smiles. “I sure hope so.”

  She crawls out of bed by climbing over me. I can’t help but squeeze her firm ass cheeks. I hold her in place, rubbing her up and down against my morning hard on. I slip my hands up under her t-shirt, feeling the warmth of her perfect tits. She must have taken off her bra without me noticing. I massage before tossing her shirt to the floor.

  Jolene moans and her head falls, trailing kisses along my chest. Somehow, I swear the woman’s a magic sorceress or something because she manages to wiggle right out of that little piece of satin that she calls underwear and drops them to the floor. I do the same with my jeans, freeing my erection.

  Our gazes lock as I grip her by her hips, lifting her and sliding her down my shaft. Slow and steady until her hungry eyes beg for more. Much more. I pump harder, I reach for her bouncing tits, caressing one while devouring the other. The sounds coming from her mouth leave me full and ready to explode. I’m close. Harder. Faster. I pull a fistful of her hair back and consume the delicate spot between her boobs. She’s riding my engorged cock. With one more swipe of her hot pussy, I’m done. Electricity shoots through my body and I grip her even tighter, allowing myself to pump until I’m empty.

  “Holy fuck. I’ve worked up an appetite now.”

  “Ah, what an honor.” She bats her eyelashes.

  “You know what the hell I mean.” I play around. “That shit was epic. I can finally see straight again.”

  “Well, I’d say that’s an occasion for chow.” She grins, and I melt on the inside.

  She’s home. And yes, whether she likes it or not, this is her home.

  CHAPTER THREE

  (Jolene)

  I take a five-minute shower and throw my hair up in a wet ponytail. My body’s already sore from this morning’s workout. The man is a fucking god.

  I pull on a pair of snug jeans, a tank with a flannel, and my knee-high boots.

  “Shit, you look good enough to eat.” His words are a low growl.

  “Later, handsome. Right now, we need to make an appearance at the breakfast table. You ready?”

  He pretends to pout, making my sex throb. I want so badly to nibble that bottom lip.

  “Oh, come on. It’ll go by quick and painless.” I loop my arm through his and prod him down the hallway.

  “You must not know your dad then.”

  I cock my head to one side. “Speaking of which, what was that bullshit in the backyard yesterday?”

  He narrows his eyes, as if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

  “Don’t pull that shit with me. You know exactly what I’m talking about. It looked pretty heated, on both parts.”

  He shrugs. “Let’s just say, we have different ideas on how to handle some emergency situations. Not a big deal.” His demeanor changes as the words leave his mouth.

  I decide not to push him any further right now, but the conversation is far from over.

  ***

  “Shit, it’s about time you two show your faces this morning. You’re starving poor Wizard,” Clint jokes.

  Wizard gives a cocky smile, grabs his plate, and eats standing up.

  “Shut the fuck up. We’ve been playing an innocent game of Scrabble.”

  The entire room explodes in full blown belly laughter.

  “Sit and eat. It’s a busy day.” Jesse spouts orders while Jolene rolls her eyes. So much for going back to bed. “Chow down, boys. Church in ten.”

  The chatter in the room is deafening, but it feels right. It’s family. Despite being under attack, in the moment, everyone is smiling, laughing, and catching up. It makes my heart warm. Well, everyone except Pop.

  Jessa slowly rolls in, plopping down in the first open spot. “Is there still coffee?”

  “Of course.” Ruth pours her a mug. “You look like shit.”

  “Oh, but it felt so good.” She grins like a fucking she-devil and takes her coffee cup. “Little sister’s back. Must be something big. Someone want to fill me in?” She asks.

  Ronin stands up and gives me a panty-dropping kiss before responding. “No time, got church.”

  I melt inside as he stalks away. I’m left with Ruth, Jessa, and the X bitches who chase after the MC crew. Patsy is fitting right in by helping clean up the breakfast dishes.

  Pop doesn’t look too thrilled about this morning’s meeting, which only adds to my anxiety.

  “Well then, what’s the plan for the day?” Jessa asks.

  “No one knows yet. I’d say, stay close and under the radar. The cabin hasn’t been mentioned, but I wouldn’t be surprised if your father doesn’t call for a compound.” Ruth is rushing around. She’s good at staying busy.

  “Susie got the bar?” I turn my attention to my step-mother.

  She nods. “Yeah, she’s taken over recently. I’ve been doing the books with Ronin, but she’s been handling the day to day operation, so that’s not a problem.”

  “I’ll need to pick up some stuff from the apartment. I’m sure Patsy does too. She doesn’t have a thing to wear here. Pop’s gonna blow his shit, but it can’t be helped. No bikes. We’ll need one of the SUVs.”

  Ruth looks up. I see the haggard expression in her once vibrant eyes. The life is taking a toll. “You’re gonna really have to fight your pop on that one.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much.” I go back to helping Ruth. The kitchen is standing tall by the time church is over. Women scatter, except for family and Patsy.

  I try to read Ronin’s face, but all I get is anger. He is boiling over with rage. Clint is a close second. Pop appears pissed and annoyed. They all walk right out the front door without a word.

  My heart sinks at the sound of the hogs firing up and peeling out of the gravel alley. Not a word or even a kiss goodbye. Something big is going down. Something bigger than what happened at my apartment.

  I make eye contact with Ruth before pulling in a deep lungful of air.

  Zombie’s close.

  ***

  My tired body springs to life as I feel the vibrations of the bikes parking in the alley. I’ve been cooped up in the house all day under the watchful eye of Herc, the big teddy bear.

  Knowing that Ronin is close brings everything to life. My body. My mind. My spirit. He possesses me. I run to the front porch, ready to greet him after what I’m sure has been a hellacious day. However, even I wasn’t ready for what is waiting for me.

  “Holy shit! Ruth, you better get out here!” The boys are covered in gashes and blood. They slide off their bikes, one by one. I run to Ronin’s side. I search for Pop. Upon observation, he’s taken the least hit. That’s how it works in the club. He is to always be shielded by the crew.

  Ronin’s so bloody that I can’t even make out if the blood is his or someone else’s. Either way, he looks bad.

  Ruth comes rushing out. “Forget the house. Rally everyone in the bar.”

  Before I could make sense of what was happening, people are in action. Herc is moving the guys. Bitches are moving supplies. The bar is promptly shut down and the bikes are locked inside. Pop has prospects gathering an arsenal.

  It’s going down and we are wounded. Fractured.

 
“Alright, everyone park your asses and shut the fuck up,” Pop addresses the family.

  As I survey the room, I can only imagine what he must be thinking. His family is broken. The empire he has built is in ruins. Not to mention, by the looks of the crew, we’re still in immediate danger.

  No one breathes a word, waiting for their superior to speak. Waiting for their President to blaze the path.

  “We took a major hit today. Our plan backfired. They had it in the works from the time they showed up at Jo’s apartment. It went down just like they wanted it to. The Pistol Kings have us over a barrel and Zombie is 100% protected.”

  With his head down, he paces the room. His eyes on the floor, thinking.

  “I wouldn’t change anything we did. Jolene and Patsy are safe and here with us. I wouldn’t alter that step in the plan or begrudge Ronin and Clint for calling that shot. However, we played right into the Kings’ hands. They were waiting on us. Their ambush was flawless.”

  I listen to his words and notice the way his voice weakens. He’s not strong and fierce. He’s angry, but he’s hurting. Something’s not right. I try to put my finger on it.

  Jimmy X.

  “Pop, where’s Jimmy?”

  Every Executioner in the room drops their head. Shoulders sag. Women gasp. My stomach is in my throat at the revelation.

  “Shit,” I whisper. Jimmy X is dead. The Pistol Kings took out our Vice President. “Where is he?”

  “They’re going to deliver him after fucking sundown! We just left him, lying on the fucking asphalt!” Ronin doesn’t sound like himself. His voice is harsh and scratchy. Ruth is patching up a knife wound and some face gashes. Patsy is doing the same for Clint.

  “I didn’t have a goddamn choice! If I had sent someone in to retrieve him, they’d be dead too. I didn’t have a fucking call to make!” Pop sits with his head in his hands. He takes in a few deep breaths before continuing.

  “We can’t take a chance by running out to the store. Herc, take the prospects and find the emergency kits and get those open. The girls should have plenty for chow. Get some liquor for these boys. They’ve been to hell and back. Dammit, get some shit moving in this fucking place!” Jesse kicks over a box, heads to the Chapel, and slams the door shut.

  He and Jimmy X have been running the roads together since they were in their twenties. They had come up in the MC together, working through the ranks to President and VP. This isn’t going to be something to sweep under the rug.

  This calls for immediate retaliation.

  “Does this have to do with Zombie,” Patsy asks as she tends to Clint’s wounds. I was surprised to see how gentle she is, and even more surprised to see the way he allows her to touch him.

  “We didn’t even get a chance to find out.” Clint shakes his head. “We were ambushed as soon as we hit the warehouse. They weren’t aiming for Jimmy. It was Jesse. Jimmy jumped in the way at the last minute and took a chest full of bullets.”

  “It was the damnedest thing.” Ronin shakes his head. “He didn’t even let me or Clint anywhere near him.”

  His words send a shudder through my core.

  If he had been given a half the chance, Ronin would have acted as a shield for his President, and he would be the one riddled with holes, bleeding out on enemy territory. Gone, just like that.

  I see the tears he’s struggling to flush back. His only father over the years. The only man he’d ever counted on. The only man who had ever loved him. The rage settles in the veins that are now bulging against his thick skin, knowing his President had come that close to death.

  Right now, waiting on Jimmy’s body, the fight in them is dormant. They haven’t lost the war, but the battle has taken a real hit. Pop doesn’t come out of the room until the sun begins to set. Soldiers remain quiet most of the day, waiting. Waiting in agony.

  The drop should be coming soon.

  Ruth and I lay the Executioners’ flag out across the pool table. The girls light candles. Bottles of liquor are ready with shot glasses lining the bar. Jimmy X’s picture hangs on the wall. This intimate gathering is for family. For the ones who knew him best. We will have another when things settle down for the rest of the chapters as they come in to pay their condolences for the fallen Vice President.

  It’s a ritual. It’s how we do things in our family. That’s what our MC is, a family. Especially for people like Jimmy X who have no one on the outside. The MC was his life. He gave every bit of himself to his club.

  Tears are already falling as the faint sound of bikes rumble down the street, our street, our home turf. The Pistol Kings don’t belong here. We wait to hear the drop, but nothing. They stop, but only for a second before peeling away.

  “Herc, recon, then fall back. You know what to do.” Pop commands.

  Herc nods and bounds down the stairway three at a time.

  The waiting is excruciating. Our hearts are spilled out onto the floor as we wait for our brother to be brought home for a proper burial.

  Herc’s heavy steps are heard coming up the corridor. I first notice his twisted face, fighting back tears as he fills the doorframe. Then it dawns on me, he’s not holding a body. He’s gripping what looks like a cut, Jimmy X’s cut.

  He walks slowly to the pool table and lays it out the best he can, smoothing out the pieces. The mother fuckers have shredded the cut. A clear indication of disrespect. Also, a sign that the body is now destroyed. They stole the burial from us. They stole our closure.

  Pop steps forward and places his hand over Jimmy’s VP patch. My insides knot, scared of what his next step might be. If there’s one thing that Jesse Miller is known for, it’s his unpredictability.

  Ruth touches his shoulder. Pop buckles under the pressure. He beats his fists against the table until Ruth steers him away.

  My heart sinks. No one knows what to say. Tears flood my wide eyes, spilling, strolling down my ashen cheeks. My daddy is heartbroken. No daughter needs to see that.

  I’m fucking decimated..

  CHAPTER FOUR

  (Ronin)

  I grip my 357, ready to handle my business. I wait for my chance to take out as many of those scavenger bastards as I can. The Pistol Kings can’t even be called an MC. They are trash. No codes. No ethics or bylaws.

  A fucking gang.

  They kill and rape women and children for the joy of it. They play games and get off on the torture.

  They’d had their fun with Patsy, she’d almost died from their little party. She’s still not the same. The only option is to obliterate the entire charter. Although, I don’t know how that can be done without a VP and a President who can’t think straight.

  “Prez,” I whisper. “What’s the move? I have a clean kill shot.”

  “Do we have eyes on everyone? I don’t want another ambush.” Jesse’s wild eyes dart back and forth. He hasn’t been the same since losing Jimmy X.

  Church isn’t the same either. There’s been no focus, only reckless retaliation. Something has to give before we’re all lead to our slaughter.

  “Looks like eight, maybe nine. I can’t really tell,” Clint responds.

  “I’ve got a shadow towards the back. Can’t make out the figure, and he ain’t coming out. No opening.” Stoner has been catatonic since losing the VP, but he cleared up for the run.

  “Shit!” Jesse tugs his hands through his gray hair.

  I try to calm him. He’s still unsteady. We should have waited. “Prez, we can always pull back. We’re good. We can come up with another plan. Off their turf. Send everyone home whole.”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t feel right.” Jesse sounds unsure. In this business, that can lead to a shallow grave. “Fuck! Cycle back,” he orders.

  We rally back at the Clubhouse.

  Everyone rushes the stairs as they hear the sleds pull into the bar. Jolene is at my side, assessing every limb.

  “I’m ok, baby. We pulled out.” I see the way she searches me, needing to see with her own eyes.

  �
��Oh, thank God. I had the worst feeling deep in my gut.”

  “Church, goddamn it!”

  I lean over and graze my lips across hers. She’s my safe place. “Looks like I’m headed to Chapel.”

  The expression in her eyes glaze over with sadness. It’s not just me she’s concerned about, but her father as well. She’s given up on a normal life. I can see it in her face. It’s gone, disappeared somewhere over the last few hours. She harder. Stronger. Devoted.

  Ruth drapes her arm around Jolene’s shoulders and guides her away as I head to the meeting. I never know what to expect anymore. Jesse’s losing it and we don’t have a VP to keep him straight.

  I shut the heavy wooden door behind me and take my seat at the table. A lone Vice President patch rests on the table in front of what used to be Jimmy X’s spot.

  “It’s yours now, son.”

  I glance up and see Jesse’s haunting, blue eyes piercing back at me. I blink back the tears pushing their way up. Fucking emotions. I don’t feel worthy, but I know how the ranks work. I’m due.

  I slowly stand and take a step to the right, clutching the patch in my hand. Jesse stands, using his old bowie to rip the Sargant at Arms patch from my cut. He holds the VP patch and clutches it over my heart, making firm eye contact.

  Father and son.

  Maybe not by blood, but definitely by bloodshed.

  “Come on, the time for grief is over. What do we say? How do we congratulate our brother?” Jesse pounds on the table. Soon the others follow, chanting Ronin’s name.

  “That’s how we do it. Have a seat son. Now, we lost a good soldier and an even greater man. But it’s time for us to move forward. We need to take out those sorry, greasy bastards. We only have one shot to get it done. One fucking shot.”

  “Do we have a new plan?” Stoner asks.

  “Working on that.” Jesse surveys the room. “We’re down to only a few soldiers. We have two worthy prospects we can vote and patch them in, but it’s still leaving us short. We can’t go in without a plan. That almost got us in deep shit today. Thoughts?”