They'd spent only moments together. Here and there, some good, most painful. It didn't make any sense. They didn't make any sense. He should have let her go a long time ago. But he couldn't. And he still couldn't. Because he didn't want to. Because he fucking loved her.
He dialed Preacher.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Deuce.”
“What the fuck you want?”
“Frankie’s up river. Got him a one way ticket tonight. Woulda buried him but it turns out your boy put a hit on your girl. If he gets buried, she goes down with him. You know 'bout that?”
Silence.
“Fuck,” Preacher rasped.
“Yeah. Got my boys workin’ my connections tryin’ to find who bought it. Not gonna be easy, doubt Frankie left a fuckin’ paper trail and grave diggers ain’t exactly forthcomin'.”
“FUCK!” Preacher roared. He took the phone away from his ear and looked at it while Preacher cursed and yelled nonsense and broke everything, it sounded like, within a mile radius of him. Turns out temper tantrums run in the family.
“Horseman,” Preacher rasped into the phone. “Where the fuck is my baby girl?”
“Got her with me. Got six of my boys. She’s safe.”
“Good,” He barked, “Lemme talk to her."
Deuce glanced at Eva. She was still out cold.
"She's sleepin'. Don't really wanna wake her. She's not to fuckin' happy 'bout what went down."
Mick snorted.
"Understatement," Cox added.
“Yeah,” Preacher muttered. “I bet."
“Preacher, we cancel Eva’s hit and Frankie's not buried within a week, I’m takin’ him down.”
“We’ll talk. For now Frankie's locked up and I gotta hit to find. Right now you just take care of my girl.”
"Preacher," He growled. "Frankie's gotta go to ground."
"That's my fuckin' son in law you're talkin' 'bout! This is family business and I aim to keep it that way! Now shut the fuck up and get my girl home, or I'll fuckin' take you to ground!"
Preacher hung up.
Jesus. Crazy. All around.
☼☼☼
Groaning, I rolled over, gripping my head. Where the hell was I? Why did my head feel like the Incredible Hulk had been Irish Step Dancing on top of it?
I had…three beers? Not nearly enough to merit a hangover of this multitude.
With one hand holding my forehead I reached around in the dark. Okaaay. I was on a bed with cheap scratchy sheets and nylon comforter.
Had Frankie and I gotten a motel? Why would Frankie and I get a motel while on a run when there were MC's we could stay at?
"Frankie?" I croaked, wincing as my own voice reverberated painfully inside my skull.
No answer.
I felt my way around the bed until I found the edge. Carefully, so as not to jar my head, I swung my legs over the side and met with floor. I cracked an eyelid. To my left a small clock read two forty three AM. I edged my way over and felt around until I found a lamp.
I switched it on.
Yep. Motel. Crappy one too. Burnt orange walls and floral pattern comforters. A carpet that had probably been new in the seventies and furniture that had seen better days.
Shielding my eyes, I headed for the door. The chain lock wasn't on so I grabbed the wobbly knob, turned and pulled open the door.
Deuce and Cox swiveled around.
I gaped at them. Deuce took a step towards me.
I slammed the door closed and put the chain lock on.
Shit.
SHIT.
That asshole got Frankie arrested and kidnapped me. No, he knocked me out and then kidnapped me!
The door slammed open a total of five inches, hindered by the chain lock. "EVA!"
"Fuck off!" I yelled then crumpled to the floor grabbing my head.
I heard the chain lock snap and the door hit the wall. I heard heavy footsteps and then I felt myself being lifted against a large, warm body and gently set back down on top of the uncomfortable bed.
"I need to go to the hospital," I whimpered.
"Do you?" Deuce asked, "Or are you just tryin' to get the fuck away from me?"
"Yes and yes!" I snapped. "I don't often associate with fuckwads who steal my husband then pistol whip me!"
"Eva," He said evenly. "I get you’re fuckin' pissed. “But I didn't have much of a choice."
I snorted. It hurt to do it but I did it anyway.
"Showed up at the party plannin' to take him out for what he did to Ripper, saw you there, didn't know what the fuck I was gonna do. Frankie blindsided me outside, put a fuckin' gun to my head and started spoutin' crazy. Only way I could get the drop on him was to tell him the one fuckin' thing in the world that would distract him from a kill. You know what I had to tell him, dontcha?"
Oh god. "No," I whispered.
"Yeah," He bit off. "That's when he decided to tell me about his hit on you. Didn't know what the fuck to do at that point. Thought if I let him go he was gonna fuck you up for fuckin' me and I knew if I buried him, you were gonna be next. Didn't want either to happen, so here we fuckin' are."
"Go away," I hissed.
"Sorry darlin'. Paid for this room and I plan on gettin' my money's worth."
"Go fuck yourself," I shot back.
"Later," He said. "Right now I gotta get a girl outta her muddy clothes."
He took my chucks off first then pulled my pants down my legs and lastly he lifted my shirt over my head, leaving me in only my underwear. His eyes dropped to my breasts. I watched as he leaned forward and lifted up his father's medallion. He stared at it, his nostrils flaring.
"It's all his fuckin' fault," He growled. Then he gave the chain a sharp tug and it broke.
I sat up too fast and gripped my head. "What are you doing?" I cried.
Deuce was storming across the room. He threw open the door and tossed the necklace outside. "Get rid of that," He barked to someone I couldn't see then slammed the door closed.
"Shoulda never given it to you," He said roughly.
My mouth fell open. "What?" I whispered.
"You heard me. You been wearin' that piece of shit's tag for eighteen years now. For eighteen years that fuckin' bastard has been hangin' round your neck and I'm fuckin' sick of it."
Tears burned in my eyes. "But that was mine and you gave it to me and I loved it and I-
"Shut up," He growled. "Reaper was a dirty fuckin' bastard who didn't care who he had to fuck, beat or kill to get his way. No way in hell should I have ever given you somethin' that belonged to him."
My chin began to tremble. What was he trying to say? That everything that happened between us had been a mistake? I couldn't handle this right now. Not after today.
Frankie had always had problems, but to do this…to put a hit on me. Me. I’d given him everything. Me, my love, my body, my life.
I couldn’t comprehend it. Or didn’t want to comprehend it. Or couldn't. I didn't know.
I’d known Frankie’s feelings for me had surpassed love a long time ago, if love was ever what he’d felt. Frankie had convinced himself at a very young age that he needed me to breathe. It was unhealthy for him, for me, for our relationship but I had thought I’d gotten him relatively under control. I’d been dead wrong.
And it hurt like hell.
And now this. From Deuce.
I rolled away from him and hugged my knees to my chest. My tears started out small, leaking out of the corners of my eyes and running slowly down my nose and cheek but once I let myself go, released the pent up anger and pain, regret and guilt, my tears turned in a torrential downpour. I sobbed uncontrollably, hiccupping, gasping for air as I rocked back and forth and cried and cried until my tears ran dry.
☼☼☼
When I woke it was light out. I didn't remember falling asleep and I certainly didn't remember falling asleep in Deuce's arms. I untangled myself from him and headed for the bathroom. I was covered in dirt, my hair was a rat's ne
st and I had splattered blood all over me. Not mine, Deuce's. Tentatively I felt the side of my head. I had a good size goose egg, it was tender and hurt to touch but otherwise I felt fine.
I took a long shower, standing under the spray until the water ran cold.
Feeling numb, I wrapped myself up in a towel I headed back to the bedroom. Deuce had thrown the sheet off him and rolled onto his side. Wearing nothing but his boxers, the Hell’s Horsemen insignia tattooed on his back gleamed black against his tan skin.
He had to be nearing fifty now. His short shadow of a beard was mostly gray; the gray in his hair wasn't as easily noticeable but it was there. His body was every bit as impressive as it had always been, lined and cut in all the right places, his muscles still large and toned. He was still beautiful. The most beautiful man I’d ever seen and still the biggest asshole I'd ever met.
And I loved him still. That had never changed.
I made a quick phone call to the motel office and then another to Tiny, telling him when and where to pick me up and then I climbed back into bed beside Deuce. Lying on our sides, face to face, I stared at him. God I missed him. Especially lying awake at night, thinking about all that could have been but would never be. It all revolved around him. If I could go back in time and take back what I had said about being his old lady I would. I would have become his old lady, stayed away from the club, done whatever he wanted. Been happy because I would have had him.
But it hadn't gone down that way. And there was no going back from the decisions I'd made over the years.
Without thinking, just feeling, I pushed him gently until he rolled onto his back. Then I pulled down his boxers, touching him gently at first, holding him, stroking him, once again familiarizing myself with his body.
When it came to Deuce, my body took control, my body and my heart. My brain was always on a permanent vacation in his presence.
I took him in my mouth and he groaned in his sleep, shifted a little, but kept on snoring.
When he was full and ready, I straddled him and slowly took him inside my body. I trembled as he stretched me and let out a shuddering moan.
His hands went to my hips and his eyes flew open.
“Hey,” I whispered.
"Fuck," He said hoarsely.
I bit my lip. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Fuck no."
"I'm so, so sorry about last night," I whispered.
"Eva?"
"What?"
"We’re good babe. Don't need to explain."
“Deuce?”
“Yeah?”
I clenched my sex around his. “Gonna fuck you now.”
He inhaled sharply. “Babe. Yeah.”
☼☼☼
Deuce stared down at Eva. Lying on her back, naked, sleeping beside him. He ran his hand from her neck to the dark curls between her thighs and back up again.
“Not lettin’ you go this time darlin’,” He whispered. “Chain you up, fuckin' drug you if I have too.”
It was crazy and he knew it, he just didn't care anymore. He was sick of thinking about her all the time, wondering what she was doing and if she was thinking about him. He was sick of aching for her. He was sick of this fucking game they played, running into each other, fucking or fighting and then taking off. He wanted more. He needed more.
He pulled his Horsemen chain over his head and trying not to disturb her slid it over hers. She should have never had his old man’s tag; she should have had his. She should have had him.
Then he pulled her close, tucked her head under his chin, tossed his leg over hers, and fell asleep.
When he woke up, she was gone. Again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
For three weeks, I had been home. For three weeks, I had been meeting with the club's lawyers and lawyers all over the city, none of whom could get anything done as quickly as I needed it done. For three weeks, I had been begging Chase to take a look at Frankie’s case, to use the dirty connections I knew he had, that his family had, that they'd all used to worm their way into the positions of power they were in. For three weeks, Kami had been trying to threaten Chase into looking into Frankie’s case. So for three weeks, I’d been going out of my mind.
My nerves were shot. Frankie was losing it. Every visit to Queensboro to see him left me reeling. His grip on reality had become non-existent; I had never seen him this bad before and I couldn't do a damn thing without legal help. I needed Chase and I needed him badly.
The morning Kami called me informing me that Chase had finally agreed to meet with me I practically fell out of bed and nearly killed myself dodging Manhattan traffic getting to the 35th floor of Martello Tower, where the law offices of Henderson, Fredericks and Stonewall were housed.
"Mrs. Fox-Deluva?"
I stopped my anxious foot tapping to Janis's, Me and Bobby Mcgee and yanked my ear buds out. "Yeah?"
"Mr. Henderson will see you now.”
I had only been inside Chase's office once before when he had first made partner and wanted to show it off. It was every bit as opulent and extravagant as his home was. The office itself was huge, plush carpeting, wall-to-wall bookshelves, a cozy seating area, a mini bar, and a private bathroom complete with a shower. His desk was dead center, solid oak, large and imposing with two leather wingbacks for clients.
When I walked in, Chase was standing by his mini bar pouring two tall glasses of whiskey. He turned when I walked in and paused to smooth out non-existent wrinkles in his pinstriped suit that I knew cost more money then most people spend on cars.
"Eva," He drawled, gesturing to a wingback. "Please have a seat."
I narrowed my eyes. "Cut the shit Chase. Why the fuck did you make me wait so long?"
His brow rose. "I'm sorry; we're you in the waiting room long?"
Sheesh. He needed a good kick in the balls.
"No Chase. You made me wait three weeks just to talk to you! What. The. Fuck."
He smiled and I wrinkled up my nose. If a shark could smile, it would look just like Chase.
Chase gestured for me to take a seat. When I did, he handed me a glass of whiskey. I took it and gaped at him.
"You do realize it's nine in the morning, right? And this is an eight ounce glass of booze?"
He took a seat behind his desk. "Eva, you do not refer to Macallan single malt as booze. For seventy five thousand dollars a bottle I think it deserves some respect."
I wrinkled up my nose. "You paid seventy five thousand dollars for a bottle of booze?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I've paid more for better."
I raised both my eyebrows. "Um…cool?"
He smirked. "Yes, I can tell you're impressed as usual with the finer things in life."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever Chase. Frankie?"
He drummed his fingers on his desk. "I've already gone over Frankie's extremely large files with a fine toothed comb."
I perked up. "And? Can you help him?"
He smiled his wide bleached white smile and again I thought of sharks.
"I can," He said smoothly. "I'm fairly certain that with the aid of some business associates of mine I can have him on the medication he’s obviously needed for some time now. I believe the introduction to psychiatric drugs will not only improve his prison stay but also allow him to speak with law enforcement without trying to kill them. When his mental health has improved we can start looking into the charges against him.”
"Oh my god," I breathed. "Thank you."
"Ah, ah, ah." He waved his index finger at me. "Here's where the booze comes in. I figured you would need it when I tell you how much my services will cost you."
"Money isn't an issue; you can have whatever you want."
His malicious smile spread to his eyes. "As you are well aware, I have more money than I can spend in ten lifetimes."
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing Chase?”
"Frankie attacked a guard last night, almost killed him," He continued, "Which is why I agreed to meet with you tod
ay."
Oh god.
Oh no.
Eva will fuck me eventually. Everyone has their price; I just haven't found hers yet.
"Chase," I whispered, feeling sick. "Please don't do-
He held his hand up. "Frankie's in solitary Eva. In. The. Hole."
I bit my lip to keep from crying. Frankie would not survive the hole.
"God Eva, you poor thing. You must be feeling pretty desperate right about now and willing to do anything to save your psychopath of a husband."
I blinked and two tears slipped out. "Everyone has a price, right Chase?"
He grinned. Then he pointed to my abnormally tall glass of whiskey. "I figured you would need it."
"You're sick," I choked out. "You fucking planned this; you purposely waited until Frankie didn't have any more time."
Unperturbed, he took a sip of his drink and nodded. "I did."
"Fuck you," I rasped. "I thought you were my friend."
He had the nerve to look offended. "We are friends Eva. In fact we are such good friends that I want to be the one to save the homicidal maniac you married."
"Why?" I demanded. "I'm biker trash, right? You've said it a million times. I come from dirty money and my family, the club, is a stain on society. So why are you so hell bent on fucking me?"
He took another swallow of whiskey. "Since you were oblivious to my attempts at bedding you all throughout high school, during and after college, I thought maybe you were one of those women who responded to being put down. I was wrong. Nothing works with you. Unless you’re with Frankie you’ve got a chastity belt on.”
"You've been engaged to Kami since you guys were in diapers!"
His upper lip curled in disgust. "I know,” He sneered. “And I would have told my father to go fuck himself when he’d ordered me to marry that vile woman if I hadn’t had my eye on her closest, most beloved friend.”
“Are you serious?” I whispered.
“Quite,” He said. “You see when it came to who I was to marry I knew it would never be about anything other than politics and family ties; meaning I would be free to fuck whomever I wished. I realized my mistake too late. You aren’t the sort of woman to have an affair with a married man, nor will you cheat on your husband.”
Undeniable Page 12