I somehow manage to get it where we need it to go and split it up between our boys as the crowd around the boat dissipates. It’s time for us all to disappear and get this shit back to New Orleans without getting caught. Possession of a drug like this is not something any of us want to be charged with.
Chapter 6
Nails
I don’t know why I am standing here like a lost little girl and spying on Chains. But I got suspicious when he disappeared for a few days and then came back with the boys that have been running some kind of secret errand for Karl for the last couple of months.
Yeah, I know I am supposed to call him prez, but he ain’t my fuckin’ prez. I am just a clubwhore, at least that’s all I am to him now. So, I call him Karl when I want to.
So, I watch as Doc, so named because he is the resident doctor here at the club, patches up a really sick looking wound on Chains’ shoulder. I can’t tell from here if it was made with a weapon or something else, but I am damn curious as to where he was and how he ended up injured.
I should stop myself from showing concern for a man I simply fucked. Because, that’s all I do. That’s my job. There’s just something that feels different between us now, though, and I can’t help but give a shit whether it’s smart or not.
Not that I have ever been a smart one.
So, I strut right into the makeshift triage room and shut the door. “Hey, Doc, that looks pretty nasty. He gonna be alright?” I know better than to ask Chains directly. Not only would it fuck with his cocky attitude he feels the need to maintain, but he would never do anything other than pretend it’s okay because he’s good with pain.
Being good with pain and being good with a festering wound are two different things. I don’t care who you are.
“Shit, what are you doing in here, Nails?” Doc asks in his thick, Creole accent as he cleans out what I can now see is a very infected wound that does not look like a bullet caused it.
“You know me, always where I don’t belong,” I joke, coming probably a little too close to comfort. “No worries, my lips are sealed. I just came to see if Chains here was okay.”
That’s when Chains scoffs before glaring at me. “Why the fuck do you care if I am okay?” he asks, and I can’t help the fact that his dark eyes make my pussy ache a little for him. I have never wanted so badly to go back for more from the same man, especially when a decent chunk of money isn’t involved. But damn, I just want to do it again.
I guess I like his insanity.
“I know that you and some of the other members went on some secret jaunt for … prez,” I catch myself before I say his name. He would kill me if he found out, literally. “When I heard you were injured, I was afraid some of ya’ll got shot up.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but his eyes are burning a hole in mine.
“I’m fine,” he says gruffly. “Right, Doc.”
Doc looks back and forth between the two of us before sighing. “It’s the infection I am worried about. He’ll have to keep it clean, he’ll need a tetanus shot and some stitches. Now, get outta here before I find something on you to stitch.” I know the man is teasing, but I nod and leave. I have more important things to do anyway.
Like finding out where the fuck Karl sent a brand-new MC member to get hurt.
I go to his office and find that it is open and empty. I lean on the doorframe, not wanting to catch him in the middle of looking at porn or some shit. But I can’t help but just watch him and think about the way things used to be with us.
***September 2004***
I am screaming my heart out as I rage at the bottom of the stage, right there in front where I belong. I know I will have no voice tomorrow, but that’s okay. It’s nights like these that I live for.
The band is singing their last song. I know because I have seen them over a dozen times now, and they never do encores. They just get everyone rowdy and get the fuck out to go and take their groupies back onto the bus with them. And I am proud to say I am one of them.
That is what I have been doing for three years now, following bands around the US and getting seen on the arms and in the beds of some of the hottest singers and guitarists there are.
This band is one that is up and coming, not as big as I am used to, but I have had my eye on the lead singer for a while, and his name is Karl. His voice is so husky it feels like he is fucking every one of us from the stage, and his black hair and green eyes are to die for.
I am ready to fall to the floor once they leave the stage, but I can’t pass out yet. I have a long night ahead of me.
It takes only a few moments for the security guards to come and pull me over the barrier at Karl’s request because I have him wrapped around my little finger now just where I want him. And while I have never seen myself as a woman to settle down before, I daresay I would be prepared for him to wrap something around my finger.
It’s raining when his hand finds mine outside, and we run and scream like children until we reach the closest thing we have to privacy at the back of the bus. He has the biggest bed, not that it’s saying much, but it’s nice to be close to him and wrapped up in his arms.
“You changed your hair,” he says, his fingers twirling it and stroking it. It feels like Heaven.
“I didn’t think the dishwater blonde really did me justice,” I say, scrunching up my face. I always wanted to dye my hair but had never been allowed by my mother. It left me scared, but three days before I finally had the guts to do it; a vibrant red.
“I agree. This is so much sexier.” And with that, his mouth is on mine, and I can’t want for anything more.
***Present Day***
“If you’ve come for a little bang for your buck, I’m not interested,” he finally gruffs out, letting me know without looking at me he knows I am here.
I straighten myself up and take a seat uninvited, the door slamming closed by way of my foot. “What game are you playing with Chains and the others? You got one injured and one missing,” I accuse, leaning over the desk so he can’t ignore me.
“Why would any of that be a clubwhore’s business?” he says with as much ire as possible. This part doesn’t offend me. It’s a defensive move, a way to try and get me off the trail.
“Look, KARL, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I see right through you. You may be smart as shit, much more than your father, but you’re not the badass you think you are,” I seethe at him.
He brings his fist down in an attempt to scare me, and if I were any other woman, it would. But that hand has held me. That hand has caressed me. Maybe those years are miles away in the past, but that doesn’t erase what happened. “Just because we fucked before you became this piece of trash doesn’t mean you get to disrespect me. You’re a slut, one that belongs to the club, which makes me your king. Don’t ask for a special privilege darlin’ cuz you ain’t gettin’ any.”
“In case you don’t fucking remember, you left me waiting for you in the cold, too far away for me to get to my family in time for Christmas. You called me and told me that you were sorry but you had to take over the MC because they would kill you for betrayal if you didn’t. I cried my eyes out then sucked it up. I went shopping and showed up here thinking you would take my sacrifice as a declaration of love. But you had already moved on. I am only what you made me, KARL.” I spit it in his face before running out the door, not looking back to see whatever reaction he had on his face.
It’s because I don’t care.
There is someone else I would rather see right now.
Chapter 7
Chains
She busts down the door like there is a bomb in here or some shit and slams the door shut. I look at her from my vantage point on the bed and watch as she strips down for me. I don’t know what has her in this mood, but the part of my brain that exists downstairs is certainly paying attention whether I want it to or not.
It’s not so much that I don’t want to fuck her again, because the memory drives me insane. I so do. But
the idea of her coming to me whenever she feels like it while she still is making a quick buck for a quick fuck elsewhere does not excite me at all. And I don’t know that any clubwhore who has been one as long as her would give up that status for a guy like me.
I am too fuckin’ crazy to be worth quite that much.
I look to my arm and know that plain old fucking is probably out. I may not mind the pain as much as other people, but I do mind losing my arm due to infection. I was told by Doc to be careful with it, and so I will. She will just have to settle for my fingers and tongue today.
“What the hell do I owe this little show to?” I ask her with a smug half smile.
“Just shut the fuck up, Chains,” she tells me, crawling onto the bed like a damn pussy cat. Her naked body slides over me before she takes off my pants and boxers; the only things I am wearing. I am standing at attention for her already, so there will be no need to coax or convince here. If she wants to give me a gift, then I will let her do that.
But then she will know where I stand about all of this.
She looks up at me as her pink lips hang right over my upright cock, and I swear she could get a job doing porn any time of day looking like that. I know some of the men dog on her because of her age, think that she’s useless and washed up, but I see nothing like that here. Her body has a few scars, there might be some laugh lines on her face, but all that is, is history, and she looks damn good anyway, the perfect size breasts and legs for days, especially when she puts on those heels.
Her mouth opens around my head, her lipstick likely leaving a ring around it to remember her by, before glancing up at me through a curtain of her red locks. Shit. I feel myself twitch, precum already making its appearance just like a mouthwatering in anticipation of a good meal.
Then, I feel her tongue encircling me, flicking the tip and then rolling around the sensitive skin there. I close my eyes and begin to push myself further into her mouth, inch by inch. God, her mouth is almost as good as her pussy. I want to fuck it.
I begin to pump into her mouth, my hand reaching down to tangle in her hair and hold her to me. Do they give these women a class on blow jobs or something, because this is the best I have had in a while?
For a moment, I am lost in it, grunting and fucking that expert mouth of hers until I blow. And she swallows me down like it’s nothing. “Shit!” I hiss as I shiver to the end, and she just keeps sucking me dry. Then, I yank at her hair, pulling her up to me until I can slide my hand down to her now drenched pussy.
“You like the taste of me, then?” I ask her, my eyebrow raising as I find her perfect little bud, causing her to gasp. I can instantly tell she is one of those women who would cum in a minute if I stay here. It is both painful and pleasurable for her as I circle it with my finger and then pinch it for good measure. She is unable to answer me with any more than gasps of air and a writing of her body.
I finally show her mercy, reaching over to force her legs farther apart so I can get to her center.
Her back arches up as I slide one finger inside of her, and I can tell by the way she feels how much she wants this.
I spread her wide, sliding in yet another finger as I search for that sweet spot that will make her scream for me. This is not the typical encounter for me, but I realize it can be rewarding as well, though, in the back of my mind, I wish I could pull out my box of tricks with this one. I wish I knew she would accept that part of me fully.
She sighs and rocks he hips into me, and I can feel her legs starting that familiar quiver. I sweat to put all my effort into finishing her off just the way she likes, and then, I pull my fingers out and use that good arm to pin her to the bed, my face now just an inch form hers.
“I want you to get something straight. This is the last time, Nails. Not because I don’t want you, but because of what you are. You are a clubwhore, and in my experience, clubwhores pretty much stay that way. I may seem like an ass, but I don’t share. I only do exclusive. So, remember that before you come barging into my room again.”
Chapter 8
Nails
I have been watching the men for nights now, and Chains has been working double time, sneaking around at night, talking to some of the men about something. Whatever Karl has Chains doing has escalated, that is the only explanation I have, and I don’t fucking like it. I don’t trust that old man anymore to take care of his members the way that he used to. The way that a prez should.
I know that MCs deal in some bad shit and that they do it for money and to be bad ass vigilantes. I don’t expect a clean slate here, but there are certain things that aren't done, and I have even seen it in Doc's face and how more often his office has been closed up with some patient inside. The shit Karl is doing now may be making him bank in the short term, but it is a dangerous bargain.
I have to know what it is now. I can't accept no for an answer. I need to know what the fuck he is thinking.
When I don’t find him in his office this morning, I keep walking. He must be in his master suite here at church.
I am surprised to find the asshole has his door unlocked, which is another unintelligent move for the prez, and so I just barge in and shut the door before he can say or do anything, leaning into the door handle so that he can't easily get me out. Not until I get what I want.
"Haven’t we already been through this song and dance, whore?" he says with a smirk, coming up on me with a slimy smirk on his face. His chest is bare, and his beard tickles at my skull as he towers over me, thinking he's the shit. But it’s just me and him, and I know what and who he used to be. What he used to believe in. He can't pretend here.
"I'll give you what you want," he says, his tongue snaking out of his mouth and down my earlobe. Then, he leads my hand to his half limp dick, and I yank it away.
"Not what I am here for," I seethe at him, putting a hand between us to show him I am serious. "I want to know what fucking suicide mission you have a new member heading up now, Karl. I am not blind. And no one else will be forever either. You're supposed to protect them and be smart. But you've gotten stupid and greedy," I accuse him.
He takes a step back, and for a moment, I am dumb enough to think I might have broken through to him finally. That what I say means something to him.
Then, I see the flames growing in his eyes as his anger rises. I never understood what the change was in him, why he had a sudden 180 as soon as he took over the MC. I had understood, even as much as it hurt, why he left me to go take it over. He had some ruthless family members out there that would have labeled him a traitor and taken him down. There never would have been any peace.
But it didn’t mean he had to like it, that he had to play the part even behind closed doors. And now, it's like he likes who he is and what he does. like he is married to the money and the power. But sometimes I wonder if he has also been delving into the drugs that take down so many of our men now. That make them wife beaters, idiots, and useless burnouts. I have never seen him do any, but I have also never seen pure, unadulterated hatred in his eyes either, especially towards me.
"You think you're so fucking special Nails because we used to fuck," he laughs deviously. "I was a dumb little boy back then with a dream that wasn't going anywhere. Of course, you were appealing to me I thought you were as good as I could get. Once I got to the top here, I saw how I could do better. Be better. You should have left this place a long damn time ago."
He says the last part through gritted teeth as he takes a step towards me again, and I tense up. I freeze. I don’t know whether to stay and listen or run for the hills.
What I do know is that it is much too late to leave this life. I have given up all friends and family outside of here. I have nowhere to go. I have never even held down a job for long enough to go get something basic.
Then, without warning, a slap so hard comes across my face that I see stars. I grab for my face like a weakling and whimper, but his hand is the size of my head. He is a big man, and this is unexpectedly
painful in so many ways. "You are an old whore now, Nails!" he bellows at me. I know others can probably hear us, but I also know that no one would dare come and save me or else face his wrath as well. "How long do you think you will be able to make money off of men at your age?" he asks me harshly, staring me down like I’m a pariah.
He is disgusted with me, and I am full of shame for everything I have ever done in my life and everything I haven't. He used to look at me like he loved me, and I thought I would be worth something someday because of that. I gave up being a groupie for him and came here to lower myself to this criminal life so that I could be his ol’ lady and stand by his side in this world he hated until he could retire and let it go.
I even thought maybe he could make something legit of it together for our own son to rule over.
I don’t know how my adult brain ended up in the clouds like that, but I curse the day I met Karl Laurent. He is a lost cause. A prick and a half. A bastard.
But that doesn’t mean he isn’t a little right. I am not going to make it to 40 still selling my body. I need a new plan, and I don’t want the streets. I don’t want to be a nobody.
And suddenly I know who it is that makes me feel like I am not a nobody.
I yank the door open and hurl a spit wad with all the power I can get, knowing my face is swollen up and likely bruising. I know it can be much worse.
The spit lands at his belly, and while he looks angry, he looks even happier to be rid of me. He will never tell me anything. I will have to figure it out on my own, or get someone to squeal, which won’t be easy. Though, there might be one.
When I come out of the room, I hear a commotion from church and follow it. It is much too early for the men to typically be up and active. But when I get there, I see that Chains and those he has been having his secret meetings with are all there and all dressed to leave. They are going out on whatever shitty job Karl has given them.
Chains (Quarter Kings MC Book 1) Page 3