Kellen's Redemption (Hell Raiders MC)

by Aden Lowe

  "Is that what you told the others to get them to vote me out?"

  "You don't get it, man. I didn't have to tell them anything. They can see shit that's plain as day. And they know we're not back in the day when a club could run a few guns and sell a little pussy and sling a few drugs and get rich. It don't work that way no more. Running a club is a business and if you don't take care of business, you're not taking care of your brothers. And that's what you refused to do." There was so much more he'd like to say, especially about Hack's addiction, but he didn't need to bring that into it. It came down to the best thing for the club. Every damn time. And that's where Hack had failed miserably.

  Hack stared at him a moment, features haggard and eyes bleary. "Fuck this shit, man. I'm out." The man looked incredibly tired and sad as he ripped the VP patch off his cut with one sharp pull. "Fuck you." He swung back on his bike.

  Before Kellen thought to say anything else, Hack was gone, blasting down the lane like the devil himself rode behind him. At least he still wore his Raiders cut, was still a brother. That would have been a massive blow, one the club might not have recovered from. They just had to hope he kept himself alive until he could get his shit together and get back to his brothers.

  Kellen stood watching long after the dust settled from Hack's departure. Finally, he scrubbed one hand over his face. Damn, he wished he could wipe away the tiredness that easily. Handling shit like this fucking exhausted him.

  "That fucking blows, man. I heard." Trip stood beside him, scowling. "I'm sorry it turned out that way."

  Kellen sighed. "Well, I didn't expect a tea party. Maybe he'll get shit straight and come back, who knows." He forced himself to turn away from where his brother had disappeared into the distance. "We got other fish to fry right now. Might as well get at it."

  Lunch time came and went. Kellen felt slightly nauseous, probably because of the bullshit with Hack, and passed on eating. He had too much to do. Besides, being around other people was probably not such a great idea at the moment. He might give in to the urge to take someone's head off and spit down their neck.

  Just when he figured his mood could get no worse without a nuclear bomb going off in his head, Trip came out to the barn and tracked him down. Great.

  "Got some news, boss."

  Rather than reply, Kellen nodded for him to continue. Better to just get it over fast. Rip the bandaid off.

  "Got a phone call from Comfort."

  Now that was something. "I never heard of her using a phone before." The gorgeous woman who dressed in ragged men's clothing and worked hard on her adopted mother's farm had some strong, but peculiar, beliefs. Phones and electricity caused cancer. Food you didn't grow or kill yourself could not nourish your body.

  "Me neither. But I guess she decided she had good enough reason."

  "What'd she want?"

  "I guess she was heading back from town when she came across a wreck."

  Oh shit. Kellen dreaded what came next.

  "Hack wrapped his bike around a tree. He's busted up pretty good, but alive."

  "Fuck. What hospital?" Like he needed any more to deal with on top of the Russians.

  "None. She took him back to her place, said she'd take care him for a bit. He was seriously fucked up when she found him, I guess, and he's still flying high. He's also holding. That's why she didn't call the law, didn't want him jacked up." Trip shook his head. "I don't see where we have an option but let her take care of him."

  Kellen's head spun a little. Everyone considered Comfort slightly daft, and no one even thought to leave another human in her care, especially not an injured one. "We could bring him here. But my guess is, mad as he is, he'd just leave, if it meant crawling. I guess leave him with her. Nobody's going to sneak up on him there with all those cur dogs she has running around." And on the off chance someone managed it, Comfort was easily the best shot in the area.

  Trip nodded. "If she considers him her responsibility, she'll see he stays safe."

  "Alright. Plan on having one of the boys stop over and check on him in a day or two. DTs will hit him hard. He might need a bump to get him through."

  "You got it, boss." Trip dragged his phone out and turned away, headed back to whatever task he'd been pulled away from.

  Kellen shook his head. If Hack had a chance at surviving both accident and addiction, Comfort was probably his best one, in all reality. If anyone could clean him up and pull him through, it was the crazy woman that could have been on the cover of glossy magazines, rather than having callouses on her hands and wearing men's clothing that practically fell off her. Maybe it would work.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As evening started to settle in, most of the civilians headed for dinner, and the Raiders followed. Kellen still wanted nothing to do with food. The day had annoyed him to no end. In the sudden quiet that came with everyone being inside, he ducked his head under the old hand pump that drew water from the well.

  The cold water felt good over his head, and cleared away some of the trash his brain accumulated during the day. He sure needed that. On top of it all, the drive to find Vicki and kiss her senseless tortured him without end.

  Any other guy would have searched her out and done exactly that. Not Kellen. He refused to allow that desire to force him into anything. If that meant he had to wait until she decided to fall into his bed that night, then so be it.

  The shitty day combined with his stubbornness to leave him edgy and ready to snap. If he hoped to survive the evening, he'd best go work some of that aggravation off. Otherwise, someone would bear the brunt of his temper. Not a good thing with a house full of civilians.

  Kellen shook the cold water off and headed around the side of the house to the shed. Some time slamming the heavy bag would probably do him good. Maybe he could work off enough to make sure everyone kept their heads.

  The shop-light hanging up in the rafters gave murky illumination at best, and the dirt floor had been churned to several inches of dust over the years of heavy boots as the men honed fighting skills. The dirt began to rise off the ground with his first few warm-up swings. By the time he started to slam the bag with his full punch, it swirled around him in a thick cloud.

  Kellen ignored the dirt, even as it made his eyes water and coated his skin. It provided perfect training conditions for the kind of fight he often found himself in, so he didn't object to the discomfort it caused.

  Some slight sound drew his attention for a moment, but it must have just been the old farm dog poking around like he normally did. The old bastard made his rounds regularly throughout the night, and never failed to alert the Raiders to nefarious opossums and thieving raccoons. The one time he'd found a stray human roaming around, he'd saved any number of bikes from being vandalized, so no one objected to his dramatics over the local wildlife.

  The workout, which involved beating some faceless Russian mobster to a pulp, quickly claimed his full attention once more. Odd for him to be so angry at the person behind the attacks on Vicki's people. He kept his emotions out of work, without fail. Anger or fear at the wrong moment could cost lives, and he never took that lightly. So why such a hate-on for that guy? It made no sense.

  Pounding the bag seemed to only increase his anger. Anger and dread. Why dread? Because if anything happened to Vicki, he… well, he refused to face that thought. Nothing would happen to her. That meant he had to be all in on this job, and it was no longer a job. But he had to keep her safe, somehow. He had connections who specialized in giving people new identities in similar circumstances. Maybe that was the best option.

  The details of such a thing started running through his mind. Of course, it meant he could never see Vicki again. The anger ramped up another notch and he dug a little deeper and hit the bag still harder. He had to keep that as a last resort, because he wasn't altogether certain he could go through with it.

  He attacked the bag as a wave of fury hit him like a freight train. The tremendous flurry of blows left him wi
nded and staggering. Damn. He had to get a handle on that shit.

  "I sure hope I'm not the one you're so mad at."

  Kellen's heart jumped into his throat and his belly sank. Vicki. "Uh, no, not at all. Hi." He stepped clear of the worst of the dust cloud.

  Vicki rewarded him with one of her trademark grins. "Well, who is it? I can give you a gun to shoot them."

  The short laugh he gave surprised him a little. Nothing much humorous about it, but her corny little joke took his thoughts off the people trying to kill her. "That sounds like a plan. As soon as I figure out who it is." He put his hands on his hips and stared at her, drinking her in like water. "What are you doing out here?"

  "I came looking for you. No one had seen you in a while. I've been all over this place. Why didn't you come in for dinner?"

  Damn, his hands felt like he'd pounded a brick wall. The leather gloves he'd worn to protect them split under the strain of hitting the bag. "Didn't feel like it." No matter how much he might want to grab her up and kiss her, he refused to give in this time. Even if it made him a surly bastard. Bad enough she already knew something about the hold she had over him. And even worse his need for her overcame his habit of maintaining distance from people.

  "Well, why not?"

  He sighed. "Look, it's been a long day, okay?" Not something he felt like explaining.

  She came closer, almost touching, and looked up at him. "Yeah, it has been. That's why I'd like to spend a little time with you, unwind a bit."

  Well, now, that was a surprise. "What kind of unwinding are we talking about?"

  She leaned up and slid her hands around the back of his neck to pull him down. "The kind that ends up with you inside me." Her lips brushed against his mouth in a silken glide.

  His balls tightened, already imagining all sorts of scenarios, all of which carried the two of them into orbit, far beyond any earth distractions. "Guess I better head for the shower, then." He might be filthy, but his hand still slid into the back of her hair to angle her head just right for his kiss.

  Vicki drew him closer, pulling up to his chest. "No, baby." Her little gasp built a ball of heat in his gut. "I don't mind a little dirt, especially with you."

  Damn. Her lust provided the perfect outlet for the aggression still sitting in the back of his head. He snatched her to him, grinding against her lower belly. "You sure about that, little girl?"

  A little moan escaped her. "Oh, yeah, baby, I'm sure." She bit his lip, her aggression matching his.

  Kellen fisted his hand in her hair and applied pressure, exposing the delicate column of her neck. The posture of submission hit him like a ton of bricks. He descended on her neck, sucking hard on the fragile skin, determined to leave his mark for all to see, yet again. He wanted to mark all of her, make sure no one dared infringe on his property.

  Vicki reached between them to fumble with his belt and jeans, and finally managed to open them to allow his hard-on to reach for her. He didn't even mind the rough fabric of her jeans, but apparently she did. She worked to open her own buttons, and wriggled to shove the offending pants down.

  The heat of her skin impacted him suddenly, and a heavy growl rolled through his chest. He sank the fingers of his free hand into the tender flesh of her ass, using the leverage to pull her tighter.

  Out of all the women he'd been with, only Vicki enflamed him to the point of testing his restraint. With others, sex was simply a task to be completed, not an unpleasant one, of course, but still. It ranked up there with drinking and smoking weed and fighting, just another way to prove and hold his place in his world. With Vicki, sex was proving to be something he needed like air. Now what the hell was that about? At the moment, he didn't care. It would wait until later for examination.

  The smooth texture of her skin under his mouth drew him lower, to lick along her collar bone. He wanted to taste her breasts again, but her shirt was in the way. He let go of her ass and hair to grasp that offending shirt roughly to rip it away.

  She drew back a little. "Oh, no you don't. I don't have that many clothes with me. You can't destroy any more."

  He chuckled a little. "Good, once they're all gone, I can keep you naked in my bed."

  She grabbed the hem of the shirt and dragged it up, and off over her head. "All gone, no need for you to tear it."

  "Hmmm. Okay. Next time." He dragged her close, starting all over again with her mouth.

  There was nothing passive about the way she kissed him back, never had been. He relished her participation, and the rasp of her tongue over the inside of his lip did something to him, sent him careening toward the edge of his self-discipline.

  He turned her in his arms to nip along the back of her neck and shoulder. Her ass provided the perfect place for his cock, surrounding him with maddening warmth that wasn't quite enough.

  His cut still hung over the rail just inside the door, and he walked her toward it. She spotted his destination quickly and cooperated. At the rail, she bent forward to present him her ass while she kicked her jeans free of one foot to allow her to spread her legs.

  Damn perfection. He slid along her, relishing her impatient moans. He sacrificed a moment for the condom, then, when she pushed back against him, he buried himself in one smooth stroke.

  Her breath hissed between her teeth as her muscles clenched around him. He fisted that hair again, drawing her head back to hold her right where he needed her. She writhed and protested as he withdrew, and hissed again as he drove back inside her.

  The rhythm devoured him, pushing him to go harder and faster. Harder and faster. Her cries drove him harder. And faster.

  Her entire body strung tight as a bowstring, quivering in response to his every movement. As the massive force of his orgasm built at the base of his spine, he slid his free hand around her hip and down to smooth over the little bundle of nerves awaiting his touch.

  She exploded on him with a sharp cry, pushing back harder yet. Kellen lost himself entirely and propelled them away from there, to a space where nothing else mattered.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kellen lay awake for a long time after losing himself in Vicki again. This time with her was supposed to get her out of his system. Instead, the opposite seemed to be happening. Sex with her was entirely new, every single time. He leaned something new about her every time he touched her, and something new about himself, as well.

  Whatever the thing going on his head might be, he couldn't let it get in the way. He had too much business, too much responsibility. Distractions, especially ones that got in his head and sucked his attention away from any and every thing, were deadly in his world.

  So how the hell was he going to get a handle on this shit? He could get away from her. But somehow, he figured that would make matters worse. The only option that made sense was to simply immerse himself in her, and hope he finally got his fill before she did. Of course she would, eventually, and whether he was done then or not, she would leave. That's how women like Vicki worked.

  Finally he drifted off, to dream of long rides with slender thighs clasped around his hips and full breasts pressed against his back. And those rides were followed by long nights filled with passion such as he'd never dreamed might exist.

  Thud-thud-thud. A fist pounding his door dragged him out of that dream and put him in a nasty frame of mind right off. "What the hell?" His shout caused Vicki to stir a little, but she just snuggled a little deeper into his arms.

  "Sorry, boss. Trouble. Trip and Badger are waiting for you in the conference room."

  Shit. Should have known. Nothing good continued for long. "Be there in a minute." He let his head fall back against the pillow. Last thing in the damn world he wanted to do was climb out of the bed and out of Vicki's arms.

  No choice. He reminded himself of the responsibility, of the lives resting on his shoulders. He sighed, and started to untangle himself from Vicki's limbs. Her thigh lay across his groin, providing delicious pressure, tempting him to stay.

&n
bsp; Finally, he slid away from her and out of the bed. She moaned a little, but slipped back into sleep. It took every bit of willpower he possessed not to climb back into that bed and lose himself in her body all over again.

  Putting on his jeans turned into an exercise in torture. He might possess the willpower to leave her lying there, but his cock had different ideas. Damn thing refused to get in his jeans where it belonged. By the time he managed that, his bladder decided it was full enough to burst, forcing him to hurry for the bathroom while he dragged his cut on.

  Finished in the bathroom, Kellen didn't dare go back to his room for his boots. He would never escape the temptation of Vicki's body a second time. Scrubbing his hand across his face, he headed barefoot for the conference room/church they used to discuss important business. As he passed the kitchen, one of the women handed him a mug of coffee, earning his undying gratitude, at least for a minute.

  By the time he reached the table and Dix locked him, Trip, Badger, and Fabio inside, Kellen might have resembled something like a human, but he doubted it. Especially considering the way the others looked at him. Screw them. He rapped the gavel on the table to call the meeting officially to order.

  "Okay. I'm here. What we got?"

  "Sorry, Kellen, we didn’t have a choice." Trip nodded to Fabio. "Go ahead, man, tell him."

  Fabio sighed. "You know there's a kid in town that I help out occasionally, right?"

  "Yeah." The big ex-Marine made no secret of it. The kid was essentially an orphan, since his parents didn't give a shit whether he ate or had shelter. Fabio had found the kid scrounging in the dumpster behind the Rattlesnake for something to eat, and had taken care of him ever since, ensuring the kid had enough to eat and a place to sleep, at least.