by Nikki Wild
There was an edge to Danielle's voice. I looked over my shoulder. She had her phone in her hand now, staring daggers at Amy and I.
"Shut. Up. Danielle," I said.
"I smushed it up," Amy sniffled against me. "I'm sowwy. I smushed all the lips'ick up."
"It's okay, baby," I said, smoothing her hair, heart breaking and soul turning murderous. "It's okay now. Mommy hurt you?"
"No," Amy rubbed her snotty nose on my t-shirt. "I got punished."
"Okay," I said, rising up with her in my arms. I hoped I wasn't hurting her shoulder, but it was better that she feel a little pain now than spend another second with Danielle. Punished? For playing with her make-up? What kind of punishment leads to a doctor's visit and a sling? Slowly, I turned. Danielle was gone. Fuck it. Fuck it.
I heard her voice, though. I walked towards the front door, and she came into view. She was talking into the phone and opening the door at the same time. Skinny boy launched himself inside, looking a bit blue around the lips.
"Yes," Amy said, turning to me. "3414 Woodmire. He's trying to leave right now. On an Indian. He's got my daughter, and he's already hurt her..."
One strong backhand had that phone smacking against the wall and shattering. I couldn't do what I wanted to do to Danielle with Amy in my arms, but fuck if I was going to let her con some cop into thinking I was the bad guy here.
"Man, you need to calm down, put the girl down, let's talk this out," her squirrely little boyfriend came to stand in front of me. He had guts, I'll give him that. Didn't just give up and hide in the corner like a man his size ought to do when confronted with a man my size. Danielle stood behind him, no remorse in her eyes. Nothing but cold, dead, stupid pride. Like she'd won, somehow. Amy was holding onto me like I was going to drop her any second, her face buried wetly against my neck. Her cheeks were hot, her nose running, tears still coming.
"Put her down, Sinner," Danielle intoned. "The cops are coming any second. And I'm not the one who rides with the Tide."
"Fuck. You." I said, bound and determined to get out of there, with my daughter, no matter what. I took a step forward.
"How are you gonna get her anywhere on that bike," the guy said, leaning to intercept me again. I looked at him, incredulous. Like a dog with a bone, this guy. What was Danielle doing to him to make him such a good little lapdog? "With her arm in a sling? Just put her down, man, come back when you're cooled down a little..."
Shit. The sound of sirens kicked up an instinct in me. Fight or flight, and this time flight made the most sense. But I wasn't leaving Amy behind. Not for anything. Not even at the cost of my freedom.
"They're gonna lock you up," Danielle crowed. "When I tell them what you did to Amy? Who you ride for? You were lucky to get two weekends a month. Now you're only getting whatever they allow for visiting hours. If I feel like it."
Bitch was begging for a taste of her own medicine. If I could, I would have given her a hundred times what she'd given Amy. Every broken bone, every bruise, every cut - I'd leave that skank so battered, you wouldn't recognize her face on the back of the milk carton.
But those fucking sirens. Getting nearer. I really couldn't get caught there - daughter or no daughter, the cops in Vernon had no love for my kind, because we had no love for them. Shit, they might recognize me and shoot on sight. Danielle would convince them I hurt Amy and...
Fuck!
I spun around and put Amy on her feet. I pulled her off me like a stubborn burr; and it hurt just as much.
"Baby girl," I said. "There's gonna be a man, maybe two, coming here. Police officers. You know police officers are your..."
Mortal enemies, my mind said. But my mouth forced out another word.
"...friends. You need to tell them what happened to your shoulder, okay? It's very important. No matter what Mommy says, you tell them the truth. And you tell them to call Daddy. You remember Daddy's phone number?"
Amy nodded, her tears abating, a deep exhaustion taking their place. Those sirens were getting dangerously close. I needed to get gone, and fast. Even telling my daughter to spill the beans about her mom put me at risk of losing her. If they took her from Danielle, I wasn't sure there was a court in the whole damn state that would grant custody to a man with a rap sheet like mine. But I couldn't have the cops chasing me, putting me in cuffs based on Danielle's lies. And I couldn't stand the thought of Amy spending one more night with Danielle.
"If you're not out this door in five..."
Danielle was screeching at me, scaring the shit out of Amy, standing over me and clawing at my arm trying to get me away from my daughter before I could make her understand how important this was.
"Amy, baby, please," I said, letting Danielle's puny efforts pull me away. "If you tell the cops, I promise, no one will ever hurt you again."
I was heading for the door, looking over my shoulder with every step. Danielle at my heels, screeching like a banshee; she grabbed a lamp and threw it at the door as I shut it behind me. I was running very fucking late, a cop car pulling up outside the house. The sirens turned off, and two figures emerged.
"Freeze! Hands up!"
Shit.
Alright.
I put my hands up. They approached, guns drawn.
"You don't need those, boys," I said. "As you can see, I'm not abducting anyone. And I have the right to see my daughter."
As the first cop approached, his face illuminated by the overhead light, I breathed a sigh of relief. He was young. Too young to know my face, most likely. And his partner - not much older.
"Sir, I need to ask you to turn around..."
"Daddy!"
Saved by the princess. The door creaked open enough for my daughter's cherubic little face to appear, also revealing Danielle's grabbing demon arms and her wild screeching. The cops dropped their guns at once. Amy tottered forward. Danielle threw the door open, but she knew better than to rip my daughter's other shoulder apart; at least, not in front of the cops.
"I wan' say goo'bye," she whimpered, hugging my leg. The cops shared a glance. She looked around my denim at them. "These powice?"
"Yes, baby," I said, my hand on her hair. "You're going to tell them what you told me, right?"
Amy shuddered, hid her face in my jeans. "Tiwed. I wanna go to bed."
"Listen," one of the cops said, looking very nervous. "I need someone to tell me what's going on here."
"You need to arrest this man," Danielle shrieked. "He's trying to take my daughter, and he hurt her shoulder!"
Fucking hell.
"I'm not trying to take anyone," I said. "Check with her doctor, Doctor Barton, about this injury. It happened hours ago, when I was at work. I came here to find out how my daughter got hurt."
The closer cop knelt down. Amy shrank away.
"Honey, do you want to tell me what happened to your shoulder?"
Amy certainly didn't want to. I nudged my leg, encouraging her to say something - anything.
"Not Daddy," she said, loud and clear. But that was it. I could tell from her face that no one was getting anything out of her that night. The cop sighed, stepped back, talked to the other one in hushed words. I was growing increasingly anxious. And Amy was getting cold.
"Officers, I'm going to take my daughter inside and put her to bed," I said. "You can talk to her mother. She's the one who called you."
They didn't protest, and I picked Amy up, hating every step that took her back into that fucking house. But it was clear she wasn't going anywhere with me that night. The morning - that would be a different story. In the morning, I'd have a horde at my back. My club wasn't going to let me fight this battle alone. They were Amy's family, too. Danielle had to know how screwed she was.
Amy was so overwhelmed, she fell asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. I guess that's a defense mechanism. When the going gets tough, the tough get sleeping. I wasn't too eager to go back downstairs, so I just stroked my daughter's hair, her sweaty forehead. I wiped up her runny nos
e and pulled the covers up. Walked to the window and looked down, where Danielle was having a hell of a time with those cops. I grinned. Bitch didn't have a flawless record, either. What the hell was she thinking, getting the 5-0 involved?
I watched for five minutes. Until, finally, something happened.
That something was the best thing I could ask for.
The cops wrote some shit down, turned away, got in their car, and drove off.
I wondered what happened. What Danielle said to them. Where her skinny little beau was. Probably hiding in a corner, all the piss and vinegar finally running down his leg. I gave Amy one last, long look, and went downstairs. Last, long look for the night, that is.
I'd see her in the morning.
Bright and early.
"You better not be thinking of doing anything," Danielle threatened, standing in front of the open door with her arms crossed. "They've got your number."
Skinny boy was on the couch, looking pretty tired of all the shit.
"And yours," I spat. I didn't want to think about what would have happened if Amy hadn't slipped out and run to me, hugging my leg like I was her own personal teddy bear, saving my ass with the truth. "You don't get to threaten me anymore. You called the cops, and even they saw through your bullshit."
"They said that it was a domestic issue, and that we should really try to work it out amongst ourselves," she hissed, eyes narrowed.
"Yeah," I chuckled. "They're right about that. I'm coming back, Danielle. First thing in the morning. I'm taking my daughter, and you're never going to touch her again."
"Like hell you are!"
"You forget," I snapped, shoving my finger in her face. "You used to be a club whore. You called those cops because of the club. You know what we can do to you. What we will do to you."
Her mouth opened and closed like a dying fish, and I saw real fear in her eyes.
"Don't even think of going anywhere," I said. "Because we'll fucking find you. And it'll be much, much worse if you make it hard on us. Let it happen easily, I might even let you visit once in a while."
"Sinner, please..." she was going to start crying now. Big, fat alligator tears. I laughed in her face.
"Have her things packed," I said on my way out the door.
"I'll fight you! I'll fight this! I'm not letting her..."
Mr. Glasses stepped up, a hand on one of her flailing arms.
"Dani, sit the fuck down, let it go, for now..."
Her screaming and his tired consolations disappeared as the door slammed shut. The night felt colder than ever. I was empty-handed. But, well, glasses had a point about one thing at least: I couldn't have brought Amy anywhere on my Indian, with her arm in that sling.
I made a quick call; the only person up at the clubhouse was Hoff, but when I told him what I needed he was willing to do the favor himself. I told him not to bother; a prospect could watch Danielle's house just as well as Hoff could. Make sure she didn't try to get away in the middle of the night, with my sleeping daughter in her arms.
I wished I could fall asleep as fast as Amy. That I could go back to that hotel, get my arms around Lucy, and sleep until the first light of the day. The sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I could wake up, rally the boys, and get my daughter back where she belonged. Back where she was safe. With me.
But I wasn't a five-year-old girl, and sleep wouldn't come so easy. I'd need something more to help me go down.
Something like the woman waiting for me at the Cattail Inn.
The only thing that could maybe force this cramp in my mind and my heart to let go.
Because I didn't think I'd survive the night, otherwise.
I could only hope she was up to the task.
Chapter 17
Lucya
He came back empty handed.
I'd spent the time - what felt like eons - picking up the pieces of the chair he'd shattered, carefully grooming broken glass from the ashtray out of the carpet, and staring at the door. We weren't getting our security deposit back, and probably wouldn't be welcome back at the Cattail Inn, but that was the least of my concerns.
What if he didn't come back? I'd have no way of knowing what happened to him - I sure as hell couldn't walk into the Rogue Tide clubhouse and ask them. He'd surely call his brothers before calling me from a prison cell.
And what if he did come back - bloody? Running into my arms with Danielle's guts splattered all over him? The thought turned my stomach. I never liked horror movies. I didn't like the thought of living in one.
When the knob finally turned, for the second time that night, I was even more nervous than the first time.
He wasn't bloody. He wasn't arrested.
But he was empty-handed.
And, to a certain degree, empty-eyed.
That key clattered to the table one more time. He stood in front of the bed, looking down at me until I stood up, my neck aching from having to look up at him.
"What happened?" I asked, since he didn't seem too excited to tell me unprompted.
"Danielle knows her days are numbered. Shit, her hours are numbered. First thing in the morning, my boys and I are riding up and taking Amy away. She'll come live with me. I don't...fuck, Lucy."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I don't know how I’m going to take care of her," he said. "There were cops. Fuckin' boys in blue, coulda gotten my ass thrown in prison. My life is fucking harsh. How can I be a good..."
"No," I said, coming forward. "Don't ask that. You'll be fine. It'll take some adjusting, but it'll be fine. You love her. You'd never hurt her. That's what a little girl needs. And anyway, are you telling me that a man who rides with the toughest biker gang on the East coast is afraid of a little girl making his life complicated?"
He studied me, our bodies inches away from each other.
"You're gonna save your daughter," I said, putting a hand on his chest. It was quickly becoming my favorite thing to touch. Just drew me like a magnet. That line curving between his pectorals, where his ribcage met and shielded his heart...
I flushed, pulling myself back into the moment. I offered him a wan smile, but he didn't return it. Something else was happening in his eyes. They churned - I felt his heartbeat increasing under my palm. It matched my own heart's speeding pace.
"Lucy," he growled, eyes melting their silver over my body. He reached for me. I could still feel the war inside him. The rage baking off his skin. The uncertainty that ached all the way down to his core. My body responded in kind, a small curling desire growing in my stomach, a tingling itch between my legs. My nipples hardened as he pressed my body towards his, my hand trapped between our chests. The smell of his leather and skin. My mouth dry and then wet. So wet, like he was cold water pouring against a parched tongue.
"Fuck," he muttered, breath still smelling like the cold night outside. "Right now, Lucy. I need..."
His hands on my wrists. Yanking me. Then on my ass, until I moaned. I knew what he needed. Someplace to put all that anger. Somewhere to exhaust himself, to burn away the rage and helpless violence. He needed someone to take him in and empty him out. I reached up, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him down. I kissed him, answering the unspoken question.
Yes, Sinner, the kiss said. You can use me. I'll take it all. Give it to me. I want it, all of it, all of you, give it to me, give it to me...please.
He growled into my mouth, answering my thoughts with his actions. He didn't need permission. He was going to take it.
"Tonight," I moaned. "Just tonight."
If he heard me, if he was listening to me, he didn't acknowledge it. He just swallowed me again, stopping my breath halfway to my lungs, bringing my heart to race, my pussy waking up to him, all the way. He pushed me forward, bending my back, making me arch until I thought my spine would break. I felt my heart dissolving into his as he walked me forward. I hit the mattress and fell back. He stayed standing, the air between us full with need. Pulling his shirt off, revealing th
at massive landscape of muscle, my mouth watered. I reached for it. He stopped me.
"Get naked," he ordered. I kept my eyes up to his and pulled my shirt off. My nipples hardened in the cold room, my bra drifting to the floor beside my shirt, then my pants, then my panties. All the while, our eyes latched together like hands held in a hurricane. Like letting go would break us apart. I grabbed his belt loops, pulled until I could put my lips to his stomach, ripped until his zipper was undone. Yanked until his cock sprang free, thick and veiny and tantalizingly close. I folded forward, my lips quivering to taste him.
He stopped me again. A handful of my hair, he pulled until I was looking up at him.
"Lucya," he breathed my full name.
"I told you," I said, ripping free of his grip and offering up a smirk. "I eat everything".
The minute I draped my tongue over the pink head of his cock, he groaned and grabbed another fistful of my hair. This time, I let him. I held the base in my fist, savoring the drip of pre-cum down my throat as I sucked him down between my lips.
I flicked my tongue across the tender places at the base of his shaft, feeling the throb of his pleasure against my cheeks. Moaning, I swallowed him, as far as I could take it. His body tensed, everything rigid as I used my mouth to pleasure him. I could feel his restraint. The need in him, to control. I pulled away, dragging my tongue hard against him.
"Go ahead," I murmured, flicking my eyes up to him while touching my lips to his head. "Fuck me like I know you want to."
He looked down at me for a moment. Just one moment. And then he pulled me by my hair, jerking his hips forward, driving himself deep into my throat. My nostrils flared, tears threatening my cheeks, as he filled my mouth. He wanted me to choke on his cock, and I wanted what he wanted.
He inched further and further past my limits, sliding out of me only to penetrate deeper, stretch my throat and jaw wider. Gagging, I leaned my head on my neck to give him more access. And to look up at him, the hunger in his eyes as I sucked him deep and hard.
Hips jerking, he thrust forward one last inch, my nose pressed into his flesh, every hot throbbing inch of him nestled in my mouth. I grabbed his thighs, dug my hands into them for balance. When he pulled back again, he didn't risk going deeper, just fucked my mouth at his own pace, groaning as my tongue darted and lapped across his shaft.