by Andrea Rose
“I did what I had to do. Come with me, Break wants to talk.”
“I don’t want to go with you Jude,” I said, mustering all of my strength.
“I didn’t ask what you wanted. When all this is over, I’m going to teach you proper respect.”
Jude’s hand lashed out, smacking me hard across the face. My body went limp, then cold. I stood back up, empty inside, and followed Jude down the stairs and back into the room with the long table. The men seated around the edge looked anxious. Nobody seemed happy to be there except Jude, who stepped round the table, sitting down and pulling me onto his lap. I let out a little gasp as he pulled my hand down against his thigh, pressing up against something hidden beneath his jeans. Something I knew all too well… It jumped at my touch like a trapped animal.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Acre said, nodding at me.
“She’s with me, and after you assholes locked her in a fucking cell last night, I’m not letting her out of my sight,” Jude said coldly. “You want to challenge me on this?”
Acre’s face went red, his fists curling on the wood, but he was stopped in place as Shawn spoke up. “Now that we’re all here…” he said, slamming a wooden gavel down on the table. I marveled at the intricate carvings across it’s face, a pattern not unlike the one on the back of the Broken’s cut, a shattered skull, carved straight out of the wood. As with Break’s jacket, I could see names carved into each little piece. The older biker, Ash, stood at the far side of the table, digging into the wood with a carving tool, edging out a new piece of the skull as Break talked.
“We’ve had a lot happen over the last few hours. The Kings are at war, and that means we’re at fucking war.”
Fists pounded the table all around, I shook like a leaf.
“We lost a brother,” Shawn continued, “Marlo was a man I’d trust with my life. He’ll ride forever in hell.”
Fists pounded the table again. I stared at Ash as he finished digging at the table. In his hand, a small drill of some kind whirred as he drew it across the piece of skull he had just carved out of the wood. A name. Marlo. My eyes ran over the rest of the skull, staring at all the broken pieces, all the names. Dozens of them. It suddenly dawned on me that they were all dead… Every single piece of the skull was a dead man.
“Sweetheart…”
I stared up from Jude’s lap, frowning as Break addressed me personally.
“I’m sorry about last night. I needed you to calm down before you went and did something stupid. We got away from the Kings and the last thing I need is FBI busting down the doors here. You feeling better?”
“Yes…” I whispered, feeling as if I’d just lied through my teeth.
“Jude…”
Shawn stared across the table. Jude leaned forward, shifting me on his lap.
“Yeah Break?”
“You saved my ass back there. We could have been carving out most of this table today.”
Jude nodded, grinning.
“But you also fucked up.”
“You saw the three assholes they had hiding in back with the shotguns. Do you really think they were going to let us walk out of there Break?”
“We don’t know what was going to happen,” Break replied.
Nobody said a word, the whole table was silent.
“What, nobody going to speak against this? Don’t you fuckers even know what the Kings are up to out in LA? You’re all worried about the drug trade while those bastards pull pretty girls off the street and sell them off! They’re filth better off dead, and you want to climb in bed with them?”
“You don’t question the club president,” Acre growled.
“I’m questioning all of you. Go ahead Shawn, put it to a fucking vote. Who here thinks sucking off the Kings is a good idea? I’ve been working the street for long enough to know who you can trust and who you can’t.”
“Take off your cut,” Shawn said quietly.
I stared as Jude stood up, walking round the table cooly, flashing murder eyes once again.
“I save your ass and this is how you fucking repay me?”
“Put the guns down,” Shawn said, waving an arm at the table. Half the leather-bound men were already aiming a piece at Jude. Break was nose to nose with him, standing up slowly.
“I was going to thank you, Jude, but now I see what a fucking mistake I made bringing you in. You’re nothing but a hothead who likes to beat his wife. You fucking got off on icing those Kings, didn’t you? Maybe you made the right move this time, but I don’t need a loose fucking cannon running around my club. Take off the cut Jude.”
“You want it? You take it,” Jude seethed. “Those fucks wanted to cut your throat and it was all you could do to kiss their asses for it. How many names on this table got there because of the motherfucking Kings?” The room was buzzing electric as Shawn stepped up to Jude.
“I’m not gonna ask you again, Jude.”
“If you won’t fucking call a vote, I will,” Jude said, reaching down and grabbing the Gavel. “I call a vote of no confidence in Shawn Break, all in favor of fucking removing say I,”
The whole room went quiet. Acre was the first to speak up.
“Break has saved my ass too many times to count, Jude. Take off your cut.”
Fists started hammering the table. A cacophony of sound was filling the room.
“You know the rules, Break. You taught them to me them yourself. Fight for your cut, and you fight to keep it.”
The men crashed together violently. Sometimes, a fight can be structured. I’d seen enough of them to know the slow circling, the jabbing, each participant looking for an edge. This was different. Jude dove into Shawn in a grappling match, arms and legs and clawing and kicking as they pummeled each other in wild abandon. The MC had stepped up from their table, moving for a better view, but I was front and center looking at the two warriors locked in a death embrace. I could sense it in the men around me. There was a certain honor in the heat of battle. A blood debt was owed, and a blood debt was paid. Jude seemed possessed, screaming like a banshee as he tore into Shawn. Break took it just as well as he dished it. Just like that, it was all over. Both men fell apart, blood and sweat pouring from battered bodies. There was no winner here, only pain. Jude crawled away, forcing himself to his feet even as Shawn lifted himself to a knee, blood pouring from a long cut across his forehead. I watched as Jude pulled his cut off his shoulders, throwing it on the ground. Somebody moved to stop him as he stepped through the crowd, but Acre held him back.
“You bleed coming into the club, you bleed going out. Don’t fucking touch him.”
Jude kept moving, Jude as Break was slowly getting to his feet and wiping the blood from his lip.
“Get the fuck out of this place,” Shawn said quietly.
“You’d need a few of your friends,” Jude spat back. Neither man seemed ready to hold up to their bluster.
“I’ve got plenty of those.”
The MC was closing in on Jude now, oppressive, but they continued to part as he moved toward them, letting him through.
“Come on Callie, we’re fucking leaving.”
He reached down, pulling me from the floor and dragging me toward the door, away from the men. I looked back, the room spinning. Shawn was on his feet now, following us, his boots smashing into the floor again as he approached. My body went along with Jude’s pull, but my mind was screaming out. I knew what would happen. Away from here, Jude would take it all out on me… Fear rose out of every pore of my body.
“NO” I shouted, ripping my hand from his! “I’m not going with you. You’ll hurt me… You’ll kill me.”
Jude stared at me in shock, one foot in and one foot out of the office. I panted, barely out of his reach.
“You don’t fucking tell me no. You don’t EVER tell me no.”
Jude moved forward into the room again disregarding the men inside. His fist came up, swinging down into my side and crushing my bruised ribs. Acre stepped forward
from the side to come to my aid. I screamed out as Jude’s hand wrapped round my wrist.
“Back the fuck off, I’m leaving with my woman.”
Jude’s head swiveled, realizing someone very important was missing from the group of bikers. He looked left in time to lock eyes with Shawn Break’s fist as he crashed into him. His arm swung round too late to block it as Break followed through in a series of devastating blows. Jude fell backward, his hand releasing me as Break’s boot connected hard with his knee, causing him to crash to the floor. My stomach turned as I fell away, but Acre’s rough hands caught me in midair.
“Don’t look,” Acre said as I fell into him. I stared at the door, at Jude.
“Get out of this club. Get out of this fucking city. Think you need to hit women to feel like a big man? If I ever see your face again I’ll blow it the fuck off and send you straight to hell.”
Jude turned, walking toward his bike, a slow limp still evident from the night before. Something about his movements said more than any words could. He was angry. Jude was murderously angry.
“Leave the fucking bike. That’s mine now,” Shawn shouted after him, adding insult to injury. He stared out as Jude stopped in the middle of the floor. There was a moment of silence, his body shaking, but he didn’t say a word. He kept right on walking.
“Meeting’s over. I need to make a few calls. Get your asses out on the streets, if the Kings want to come visit I want to know before they’re knocking on the door.”
Shawn walked toward the back of the meeting room, pulling a key out and opening a door that led off into a separate interior space. Acre let me go, my knees shaking as I stood in front of the club.
“You’d better go after him,” Acre said, his face stern.
“I already told you, I’m not going with Jude.”
“I’m not talking about Jude.”
I looked up, the door Shawn walked through was still cracked open.
“I don’t understand…”
“Oh yes you do. I’d be in there before someone else claims you. That asshole’s gonna hunt you down if you leave here, and if you want our protection, you know how to get it. You’d look fucking good on the back of my bike you little kitty Cat.”
“But…”
“No buts. Your man isn’t a Broken anymore. Only two kinds of ladies are allowed in this clubhouse, old ladies and club whores. Which one are you?”
The rest of the MC was staring, as if a gang of jackals was circling prey. I stepped through them, heading for the door… Hoots and hollers followed me, a band of brothers trying to cope with grief and loss in the only way they could.
“Tonight, we drink for Marlo,” Acre shouted behind me. I trembled inside and out. The men left me alone in the room, and I stood there almost twenty minutes before finally reaching for the door.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
“I wasn’t sure you were coming.”
The door clicked shut behind me, and Break rose from his leather chair, walking across the room and drawing the deadbolt and chains to secure the door. I could feel the warmth of his body as he stepped back around me, his eyes inspecting me like a prized possession. I watched as he finished wiping away the blood from his face with a wet cloth, dropping it in a small sink.
“Thank you, Shawn…”
“For what sweetheart?”
“For stopping him…”
Break stared at me, breathing heavily, his body still rippling beneath his clothing.
“Come here,” Break said, his eyes deep pools of icy blue.
I didn’t answer, and Break didn’t seem interested in waiting. He reached out, grabbing my wrist much like Jude had. The difference was, Shawn’s hand was gentler. Insistent, firm, but not aiming to inflict pain. It was a strange feeling, and I found myself whimpering as my body grew hot beneath his touch.
“No,” I whispered, trying to draw my hand away. Break leaned in, sweeping me up by my waist and pulling my body into his. He dragged me across the room toward the darkened areas near the corner. My heart raced. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Jude was gone, Break was here, my body was confused with emotions both excited and terrified.
“I knew it the minute I first saw you…”
His voice was soft on my ear, breath warm against my cheek.
“You’re like me… You’re damaged.”
The words slapped me upside the face almost as hard as a hand would have. Somehow, I took strength in his words. I’d always been damaged. Looking for the next thrill, seeking out the next dangerous moment. I lived my life in the fear and the excitement that being damaged brought me…
“I’m not what you think I am,” I whispered, hesitant. Break stayed close, breathing deeply.
“You’re hurt,” I said, looking at the gash on his forehead. It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought, and it had already stopped bleeding, but it was definitely going to add another scar to his face. My fingertip reached up, touching the older scar that traveled down his cheek.
“I’m fine,” Break replied, moving in closer. His lips pressed against the skin of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re the least perfect creature I’ve ever seen, and I want you more than fucking life.”
“We can’t do this…” I said, my voice shaking.
“I know you want to.”
“It’s too soon.”
I pulled away from his grasp, my heart racing even as wicked desire filled my mind. I didn’t want Break to wait… I wanted him to take me. I wanted him to fuck me right here and take away all the pain. I wanted him to make me forget Jude ever existed. If only he knew how I really felt. If only he knew how much I’d needed him from the moment I first saw him…
I tried to turn from him and hide my desire, but he used my movement against me, spinning my body and folding me over the side of a tall bed that was hidden away in the corner of the space. I made a soft whimper as he pressed my face against the blankets, the heat of his flesh held against me like a burning torch.
I wanted to buck against him, to push him off, but where I expected the roughness of Jude’s fists, I met only with tender firmness of Shawn’s touch. His hands ran up my sides, holding me, guiding me, but not hurting me. My body quivered as his hand trailed up along the side of my ribcage, reaching beneath me along the silken blouse to cup my bra-free breast.
There are moments where you lose control of your body, where every ounce of you wants something despite all rhyme or reason. Feeling Shawn against me, his heat, his strength… Pleasure radiated out from my core.
“You saved me,” I whispered, no longer fighting him. “But Jude will come back.”
Break pulled away, leaving me silent against the bed.
“And now I’m just as fucking bad as he is…”
I stared back at him, my eyes pleading in ways my body couldn’t. Break stood silhouetted in the space between light and dark. His body was muscular but roughly hewn, like a masterpiece carved from rock and left unfinished. I watched the rise and fall of his chest, marveled at the way his jaw sat ever so square.
“I’m not like this sweetheart… You’re bringing something out in me I haven’t felt in a long time. I had to fight myself to leave your room that first night you showed up in my fucking club. I’ve been thinking about you non-stop. You should run away from here. Run away and never come back because I don’t think I can control myself around you. I don’t want you mixed up in this shit.”
There it was, the pain in his eyes I knew so well. I’d seen it in my own, day in, day out.
“What happened to you Shawn?”
Break collapsed backward against a wall, holding himself upright as I moved to sit on the bed.
“My old man happened. Started this club, beat my mother, beat me. Man was an asshole. Never even got the chance to step to him, he crashed a bike on the westside and the club sent him out like some kind of fucking war hero.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry, tha
t asshole deserved worse.”
“I meant, I’m sorry for you.”
“That’s even worse sweetheart.”
“Break…”
“Yes?”
“Come here…”
He sat there as my body quivered with need. Every square inch of my skin was crying out for his heat against it. Break stepped away from the wall, tentatively, slowly, as he crossed the room.
“Breathe for me,” I whispered as I reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He towered over my petite body, his hulking mass every bit as fearsome as Jude ever was. Without so much as a whisper I stood before him, pushing his cut off his shoulders. It fell to the floor, his foot kicking it aside. I reached down again, drawing his shirt up and over his torso, his arms lifting as I drew it higher still. My eyes traced downward from his chin as the shirt came free, fingertips running down his chest and abs.
Desire, slick and hot, was coursing through my body and propelling my touch. Somehow, I’d lost myself. I wasn’t Callie, I wasn’t the damaged little girl who thought love should hurt… The bad girl inside me was taking over. It knew what I wanted and it knew how to get it.
I leaned in and he bent downward, his lips crashing onto mine as I fell into his heavenly embrace. We tasted and grabbed and gripped and lost everything about ourselves in that moment. His hands drew upward, throwing my blouse up and over my arms, freeing my breasts as his hands ran across them with the tender firmness I was starting to truly appreciate. I moaned into his lips, our tongues dancing.
“Callie, sweetheart, I…”
Break tried to pull away again, but I pressed myself into him harder.
“Don’t talk. We don’t need words for this.”
“I don’t want you to get involved.”
“It’s ok… I want this,” I whispered.
Our moves were frantic, alive and fierce as we grappled with each other, stripping away the clothes between us and falling into the bed. Heat rose as he drove kisses down my neck and breasts, stopping to draw one of my pert nipples into his mouth, suckling lightly before continuing down my stomach toward the center of my heat.
“Oh yes,” I gasped as his tongue found it’s way to my folds. He was insistent, driving between and separating my core as his impossibly soft tongue drew upward, tasting me, drinking me, attacking my clitoris with wild abandon. My brain melted, hands wrapping themselves into Break’s hair and pulling him into my core. I sucked in my breath, rolling hips against his face as my world crashed over with pleasure and desire. It had never been like this before. Never a focus on my pleasure, only on how I could serve. I lost track of time as Break wrote love letters to my folds, tracing each and every line with his tongue, drawing my clitoris between his lips and etching it ever so lightly with his teeth as orgasm wracked my body.