Shadow: Cerberus MC Book 3

by Marie James

  “And Kid?” I ask.

  “He’s back at the hotel. Skype date with Khloe,” Kincaid says signaling the waitress for another round.

  “No Skype date for you and Em?”

  He winks at me. “The night is still young. What are your plans?”

  I angle my beer toward the petite, golden-skinned beauty looking our way. “Her,” I say simply.

  She’s been staring at us since we sat down. Not that I can’t read the look in her eyes, but she’s also been licking around the top of her beer bottle like she wishes it was my cock. No doubt, she’s here to pick someone up. Lucky me.

  I throw back the last of my beer and stand from my chair.

  “Wheels up at thirteen hundred hours.” I nod in acknowledgment and walk across the bar. I bend my arm and offer her my elbow. She slides seductively off her chair and loops her arms through mine. Most days this is honestly too easy.

  We normally double up in rooms when we travel, but the last night we opt for our own rooms. Snatch and Itchy still always double up, but they tend to share everything they bring back, so it works for them. I know Kid and Kincaid, since they have no intentions of prowling tonight, have settled into a room with double beds. Kincaid is only downstairs in the hotel bar right now to give Kid some privacy.

  This is the first mission we’ve gone out on since the Christmas holidays. I know it’s been particularly hard on Kincaid since it’s the first time he left his fiancée behind. Every other time Emmalyn was his girlfriend, but he asked her to marry him on Christmas Eve. They’ve been even more inseparable since then.

  Still no positive pregnancy test, even though it’s not because of a lack of trying. He’s told me he assures Em that it will happen eventually, but I know she’s not so sure. She even told him no when he proposed at first. She told him that she wouldn’t force him to marry her when she couldn’t give him everything he desires, including children. Kincaid promptly threw her over his shoulder and carried her to their room. By the next morning, she had a smile on her face and his ring on her finger.

  I guide the raven-haired beauty inside my room. Without a word from me, she begins to undress. The only thing missing from the strip tease is music and disco lights.

  “You don’t waste any time do you, sweetheart?”

  She bites her lips and gropes at her breasts roughly. “Let me help you with your clothes,” she says in a heavily accented voice.

  I watch as her hands work the buttons of my shirt open and then the fly of my pants. Her eyes widen when I fall heavily into her small hands. I cup my hand to her cheek, a move that expresses more emotion than I actually feel.

  “What are you going to do with it?” I ask softly.

  She leans in just like I hoped she’d do and takes me to the back of her throat. “Fuck, sweetheart that’s nice.”

  She works my cock like an expert, teasing and sucking, but pulling away each time I get close to blowing. All too soon she pulls her head back and stands. I could’ve just ended the night in her mouth and been just fine, but apparently, she has other plans.

  She backs up slowly and climbs on the bed. “Your turn, papi,” she says on a moan, sliding her fingers through her cleft.

  I shake my head and reach for the condom in the back pocket of my jeans. “Not my thing, beautiful, but I promise to make you see stars.”

  I wouldn’t eat bar pussy in New Mexico. Forget about bar pussy in a foreign country where preventative health is a luxury most can’t afford. I’m not saying this woman is nasty, but I didn’t even have to buy her a beer to get her up here. Not taking that chance on anyone.

  My mind takes this opportunity to remind me that I went unwrapped once. I haven’t allowed myself to think about Misty in months. I gave up after texting her periodically for months without so much as a ‘fuck off’ in response. Man, what I wouldn’t give for it to be her pussy I was about to sink into. I wouldn’t turn down any offer to cover her flesh with my mouth.

  I climb up on the bed with my conquest and line myself up at her entrance. This used to be fun. Fucking women in other countries, never having to worry about stalking or the call back when the night was over. It’s grown boring, almost unnecessary most days. Why I’m here tonight, I don’t even know. I’m hard, don’t get me wrong. I want to get laid, and the sight of her pussy makes my cock twitch in anticipation, but it feels empty.

  I thumb her clit in small circles causing her to moan and undulate like a pornstar. It’s a little over the top and completely fake, but to each their own I guess. I slide inside of her slowly, gripping both hips in my hands. She feels nice, not as tight as I’d like, but it’ll work.

  Twenty minutes later I’m still pumping in and out unable to find my release. By my count, she’s had three, but with the way she’s acted since the minute I touched her, she could have faked every one of them. Not really best for a man’s ego. Well, one that would give a shit in a moment like this. Fortunately for me, I’m not that man.

  I close my eyes and try to ignore her moaning and Spanish phrases. My mind automatically drifts to Misty. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost feel the pussy wrapped around me tighten. I can hear her soft whimpers as she does her best to take all of me, something we still hadn’t accomplished the last time I had her.

  Finally, I begin to feel my balls tighten. I pull out immediately and come inside the condom. I don’t even want to risk a leak in the motherfucker with this chick. I climb off the bed, discard the condom, and dress quickly. I’m not a big enough idiot to leave her in this room while I shower. Her behavior has been erratic at best. She either wants me to find her irresistible and beg her to come home with me to the States, or she planned to roll me when my back was turned. She doesn’t get the opportunity to do either.

  I toss her clothes to her. “Hate to run you off, sweetheart, but I got to head out early in the morning.”

  “Come back to bed, papi. I’ll keep you warm while you rest.”

  I shake my head. “Can’t do it, beautiful. I have horrible nightmares. The last woman that stayed over ended up with a snapped neck.” She gasps and shuffles quickly into her clothes. It’s a lie of course, but one I’m willing to live with if it means this chick gets the hell out of my room.

  Chapter 7

  “Oh,” I moan as another contraction hits without warning. I feel like someone is inside me ripping me to shreds. I woke up thirty minutes ago with a contraction I know are not simple Braxton Hicks.

  I’ve been suffering through them while I gather my things. There’s not really much to collect since I don’t have much, but I don’t want to leave anything behind.

  I make three trips to my car, only able to carry a bag at a time. On my fourth and final trip out, the door across the hall opens. Familiar blue eyes meet mine. I give Macy a weak smile.

  She looks down at the trash bag of clothes in my hand. I’m fixing to beg her not to tell anyone when she smiles back at me. “Good for you, Misty. Take good care of him.” I nod, and she closes herself back into her room.

  Macy is only eighteen and three months along. Her parents also tried to convince her to have an abortion and gave her the boot when she refused. She confided in me one night, and her story brings tears to my eyes each and every time I think about it. She was gang raped at a prom after-party her senior year in high school. She’s planning to give her baby up for adoption, and I commend her for being brave enough to carry the baby to full term rather than aborting. It takes a strong woman to do that. Although, I’d never judge a woman who couldn’t after such a tragic event.

  I shuffle slowly out to my car and toss my final bag into the passenger seat. The only thing I have packed in my hospital bag is a change of clothes. The adoption agency assured me everything else would be taken care of. I didn’t know until I woke up in labor a little bit ago that I couldn’t go through with it.

  It takes three times as long to drive to the hospital across town. There’s no way I’ll go to the private hospital I’ve been se
t up to deliver in. They’ll check my name and take him before I can even have the chance to leave with him. Instead, I drive to the regional hospital.

  The service isn’t what I’d expect to have received at Mercy Medical, but it will have to do. The emergency room is packed, and the nurse at the triage desk seems less than impressed that I’m in labor.

  It isn’t until I’m certain I’m going to give birth on the floor that I finally get moved up to the maternity ward. Everything happens so fast. They strap me up to two monitors, one for me and one for the baby. They can’t find the baby’s heartbeat. That knowledge makes my pulse and blood pressure skyrocket. All I remember is a person in scrubs coming in telling me they will have to deliver right away. They stick a long needle in my IV port, and my world goes black.

  ***

  I never researched C-sections because I never for a second considered I’d have to have one. It may have been my biggest mistake yet. The pain is almost unbearable.

  The umbilical cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck. It was loose, but my position sitting in the bed made it worse. Thankfully they were able to deliver him with no complications. The doctor calmed my nerves when he said he can almost guarantee that there are no lasting complications, but they’re keeping him in the nursery just to make sure.

  I insisted the nurses help me out of bed and into a wheelchair to go see him the second I woke up from the anesthesia. I don’t trust a single person in this world, especially people who can take my son away after one phone call from the Maternity House.

  He was sleeping peacefully in his tightly wrapped blanket. Six pounds, eight ounces of pure perfection. The nurses I’ve met so far seem to be very helpful, but the hospital organization seems like a cluster fuck at best. I’m pretty sure this will help to my advantage.

  After thirty-six hours of observation, they roll him into my room in the tiny plastic tray. I’ve been nursing him several times a day, but this is the first time I’m able to hold him without being watched. The nurse hands him to me and quietly leaves the room.

  Griffin begins to nuzzle against me immediately, already having recognized my scent. I stroke his dark hair with a delicate finger as he nurses. I can’t stop the tears that fall as I look at him. He’s beautiful and utterly perfect. I apologize to him profusely for even considering giving him to someone else. I knew the second I laid eyes on him the very first time, that I would work a million jobs if it meant coming home and getting to be his mother each and every day.

  Grandiose dreams at best. I have nowhere to go. I’m certain even my parents would still turn me away if I showed up on their doorsteps.

  I drove by my childhood home on Christmas. Nothing had changed. From the outside no one would guess that the adults living inside had exiled their only child from their home, forcing her hand with a baby on the way. The outside decorations were shining brightly, and the fully decorated Christmas tree could be seen twinkling from the street. They had no room in their lives left for me. I can’t help but question what their judgment day will look like. I’m certain it’s not going to go the way they anticipate it to.

  I’m not second guessing my choice to keep him, but I do know we have an incredibly long road ahead of us. I have to swallow my pride and ask for help. The list to start this next chapter in our lives is ominously short.

  At just over two days in the hospital, Griffin and I have been given the all clear, a car seat, and our walking papers. I thought I was hopeless carrying him out to my car. That feeling was multiplied by a hundred when I realize I parked in a tow zone when I arrived at the hospital, and my car is gone.

  I allow myself to sit on the curb for ten minutes and cry my eyes out. Then I stand up, wipe my tears away, and try to devise a plan that doesn’t include my son and me sleeping on the street.

  It's late afternoon, so I hail a cab to the bus station. I buy a one-way ticket at the bus station for tomorrow and book a cheap hotel room that’s within walking distance from the station.

  Maneuvering with a baby after a C-section is no joke. By the time I make it back to the hotel for the evening, I’m in more pain that I can bear. The nurse gave me a prescription for hydrocodone before I left, but if it’s anything like the medicine they were giving me while I was there, I know I can’t take it. I was like a zombie after taking them, and that’s not a chance I can take when I’m solely responsible for Griffin.

  The night is horrible. Griffin cries uncontrollably unless he’s nursing, so I don’t get hardly any sleep. When he’d start to cry after he was done nursing, the only thing that would quiet him was walking around the room rocking him in my arms. Less than three days old and I’m already failing him as a mother.

  Everyone says being a mother is instinctual; I have to disagree. I feel completely helpless and unprepared to take on this challenge, but I will because I know I’m what’s best for him.

  He finally settles as the sun is coming up. My bus doesn’t leave until midafternoon, so I know I’ll have to get another hotel room when I reach my destination. I can’t just show up at someone’s home in the middle of the night. I’m able to get a couple hours of sleep before checkout time from the hotel.

  My attempt at a shower is quickly thwarted by his cries. I can’t help but smile at the entire situation. I know if I don’t I’ll start sobbing, and that’s not going to be productive for anyone.

  ***

  I’m exhausted, and I’ve never felt worse than I do right now. My body is completely run down, and the pain from my incision is only getting worse.

  For a second, when the phone rang in the hotel this morning, I didn’t have a clue where the hell I was. The man on the phone told me housekeeping came by to clean the room, and I had ten minutes to get out or risk being charged for another day.

  The bus ride took longer than I had anticipated with all of the scheduled stops. Thankfully, Griffin seemed to like the sway and jostling of the bus; it was absolute torture for me.

  Another cab ride places me right in front of my destination. I have no idea how this is going to go. I’m hoping I don’t get a door slammed in my face. My car was towed with all of my belongings. I don’t have a thing to my name but my purse and Griffin.

  Climbing the steps to the front door carrying Griffin in his car seat takes more effort than I really have to expend. My eyes swim from exhaustion as I reach up and knock weakly on the door.

  Chapter 8

  “You keep playing shit hands like that, and you’ll never sit down at this table again,” Snatch snarls at Kid as he throws down his cards.

  Poker seemed like a good idea until Snatch’s irritable ass showed up thirty minutes ago.

  “You’re just pissed you’re losing,” Kid taunts shuffling the deck.

  Kid isn’t good at playing poker; he’s good at bluffing, and there’s a huge difference. We never know when he has a shit hand or if he’s holding gold. We all know this, but Snatch is extra testy today.

  I narrow my eyes at him trying to figure out his mood swing. He’s normally a pretty laid back guy. Most people cringe and turn the other direction when they see him. He’s rather intimidating with his Mohawk, ear plugs, and more tattoos than you can possibly count, but honestly he’s a pretty nice guy once you can look past the outer appearance.

  “Besides, asshole,” Kid continues. “What’s crawled up your ass?” He looks around the room. “Where’s Darby? She’s usually out here on your dick by now.”

  Snatch pushes his chair back a bit as if he’s about to let loose on Kid.

  “Boys,” Kincaid says quickly before Snatch can make his move. He doesn’t even lift his eyes from the hand of cards Kid just tossed around the table.

  Snatch flips Kid the bird, gaining a puckered air kiss from Kid. These fuckers will never grow up.

  “Where’s Khloe?” I ask throwing away a card. He hands me another then goes back to looking at this own hand.

  “Studying,” he says with a quick shrug.

  “She’s really into
it, huh?” Kincaid asks taking a swig of beer.

  “Yeah. I think she feels like she has something to prove.” I notice the somberness in his words.

  “To who?” I ask. I know there’s not one person in this clubhouse that has put any amount of stress on her.

  “No clue, man. Herself? Her dead parents? The State? She’s happy, though, you know?” Kid says with a small smile on his face.

  Khloe has been here for months, and even though they had a pretty bad time after Kid got hurt in Vegas and lost his memory, they seem to have moved past it.

  “Emmalyn’s pretty stoked about school also,” Kincaid adds.

  They’ve been going to college together for a while now, but I don’t think they’re going for the same thing. Come to think of it, I’m not certain what either one of them is going to school for.

  “Em studying too?” Kid asks as he folds his hand and waits for the others to decide what to do.

  “Naw,” Kincaid says with a salacious grin. “She’s taking a nap.”

  Snatch laughs, and I know he’s about to say something dirty and inappropriate. He’s got pussy on the brain twenty- four seven. Kincaid cocks an eyebrow at him, daring him to say something. He runs a hand over his face trying to hide his smile. Smart man.

  It’s my turn to shuffle the deck, but just as Kid hands it over to me, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Snapper, Darby, and Itchy come from the back rooms into the living room. I see Kid doing his best to ignore Snapper.

  She pulled some shit with him that almost cost him Khloe, and he still hasn’t gotten over it. He was an active participant, but she knew he’d lost his memory, and she capitalized on the fact that he couldn’t remember Khloe. He may never forgive her. She’s lucky she was allowed to come back to the clubhouse after that stunt. Bunny, the club whore who got in Kincaid and Emmalyn’s way in the spring, was told to never come back.

  Snapper has been here almost as long as the club has been together and never pulled any shady shit like that before. It’s the only reason I can think of that she’s still around. Darby showed up on Snatch’s arm after the job in Vegas when BT, a friend of the club, needed help with getting his girl back. She was working in the brothel the SINdicate had going for the men who were on their payroll. She was just going to stay here one night and head to Tampa with BT and Aviana, but she must have liked what Snatch had to offer because she stuck around. She seems to fit in perfectly with some of the guys’ insatiable appetites.