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The Biker's Baby

Page 17

by Sam Crescent


  Guilt filled him.

  She’d given him everything, and he was taking the chance of a baby out of her hands. He was asking his friend without her permission. It was on the tip of his tongue to come clean.

  Gunner came in, and John was too much of a coward to spoil the moment.

  Pulling out of her pussy, he lifted her up in his arms, holding her, showing her that he loved her.

  You’ve got to tell her the truth.

  He lowered her into the tub, and followed her in. Gunner moved to her other side, and they relaxed back in the warmth of the water.

  “I do love it here,” she said.

  “Why don’t you and John move in?” Gunner asked.

  John looked toward his friend.

  “I’ve got plenty of room, and I don’t want this to just fizzle out, or for us to try and decide where we want to live.” Gunner shrugged.

  He glanced at Scarlett. She was biting her lip. “If that is what you both want. Will your boys mind?”

  “They love having you cook for them. Believe me. It beats takeout every single day of the week.”

  “Then consider it done,” John said. He tugged Scarlett over to him. “You finally get that big house I always wanted for you.”

  She didn’t say anything.

  Gunner held up the soap, and then words were not necessary.

  ****

  John had to rush into work the following day, so Scarlett came home and decided to start packing. Bennie and Carlos were helping and had already taken some of the stuff with them back to Gunner’s home.

  She didn’t know if she wanted to put this house up on the market. It was her first ever home. After living in a trailer park as a child and then a rundown apartment, this was the first place that had ever felt like home.

  Moving in with Gunner was … different. It felt like it was a step away from talking about children.

  Yes, she loved John, and she wanted to give him whatever his heart desired. Changing homes, it felt like a part of her was closing off her own dreams of having children. Living with Gunner wouldn’t allow for them to talk about the nursery or what they wanted.

  “You okay?” Gunner asked, stepping into the room.

  She had a photograph album open to her and John’s wedding photo. Last night had been one of the most incredible and highly erotic moments of her life. Watching Gunner and John together had been hot, seriously hot, smoking hot.

  “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  He sat on the bed beside her, and he glanced down at the album on her lap. “You looked so beautiful that day. You look beautiful all the time, but that day, you shone unlike anyone else.”

  She looked at the photo and saw how both she and John looked at each other. “I was so happy. Don’t get me wrong, I was nervous. I thought up until the last second that he’d change his mind. That he’d realize he didn’t want to marry me.”

  “He never did though.”

  “No. Everything is changing so fast. I’m just trying to keep up.”

  Gunner twirled one of her ponytails around his finger. She had one on either side tied with two bands at the base of her neck.

  “Do you not want to move in with me?”

  “I do. I’d like to see where this all goes. It feels important that we do. Not just for me and John but for you and John. Did you have any idea that he wanted you? Like the way you do him?”

  Gunner sighed, dropping his hand. “No. It wasn’t something that ever came up. I guess with me having Cherry for so long and him being with you, it didn’t seem important. You were very brave doing what you did last night.”

  She laughed. “Having two hot men get it on wasn’t brave.”

  “No, but it could have ended differently if you’d misread us.”

  “I’d been watching you both since that first night that you and I were together. Something felt … strange. I don’t know. Like there was an underlying current that I didn’t understand.”

  “And do you understand it now?” he asked.

  “I think so. You and John have an attraction to each other that’s not easily denied.”

  He snorted. “We’ve been denying it for some time.”

  “Or maybe you both hadn’t allowed yourself the time to think about it.” She shrugged. “I’m happy for you both.”

  Gunner turned her, cupping her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “You can tell me everything.”

  She took a deep breath, nervous about the way he made her heart ache for him. She loved her husband, and truly believed she’d only ever love one man, but when it came to Gunner, she found herself falling for him just as easily.

  Slowly, over the past few weeks she’d felt herself drawn to Gunner. Maybe it was because of all the extra time they were spending together. She didn’t know, but her own feelings for him wouldn’t go away.

  “Whatever you want, John and I will work to make it happen. We want you to have everything your heart desires.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she pulled away from him, the photograph album falling to the floor.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Gunner picked up the letter that was inside the album. It was confirming the results of John’s infertility.

  He read over the document.

  “You want kids.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Scarlett. Whatever you want, it does matter.”

  She brushed her hair off her face and stared at him. “It’s … hard to put into words.”

  “Try me. I’m a good listener.”

  She wrung her hands together, and then stopped to look at him.

  “Do you have another spare room?”

  “Yes.”

  “You do?”

  “I do. There’s five bedrooms in that house and two bathrooms. The one between our rooms that is shared. Bennie and Carlos share as well. Then I have a bedroom. It’s spare. Is this about the nursery?”

  “John doesn’t want to talk about it, Gunner. He doesn’t want to speak about our options, and I … I want a baby.” She pressed her hands against her face, feeling so utterly selfish. “I know, I’m awful.”

  Gunner pulled her in close, his arms wrapping around her, protecting her.

  “You’re not awful. Don’t cry. We’ll all talk about this.”

  “But you already have kids and you’re not going to want any more screaming around the house. I want to get started on either IVF or adoption because it all takes time, and he won’t listen.” She sniffled. “I’m so sorry about this. We’re meant to be packing, and I’m crying.”

  She heard the sound of a car parking out front and then Bennie and Carlos as they made their way upstairs.

  Scarlett tried to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn’t let her. He kept her in his arms, refusing to let go.

  “Hey, Dad,” Bennie said. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. There are a bunch of boxes in the fridge. Pack up all the groceries as well.”

  She knew Bennie hesitated.

  Seconds later he was gone, and she wrapped her arms around Gunner. “Did you give him your evil glare?”

  “It’s the glare I like to give that gets shit done.”

  “It’s a really mean glare though.” She sniffed, finding the scent of leather a comfort. “Do you give all of your men that fierce look?”

  “Only the ones that deserve it.”

  She pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “I must look a mess.”

  “You always look perfect to me.”

  “Will our presence in your home cause a problem with your ex?”

  “Let me deal with Cherry. She’s not going to cause any trouble.” He pressed a kiss to her lips.

  She melted against him, wrapping her arms around him. Placing her head on his chest, she sighed. “Will you talk to him? I don’t think he’ll listen to me.”

  Gunner seemed to tense a little beneath her touch.

  “It’s fine. I can talk
to him.”

  “Let me do it, Scarlett. I’ll talk to him and get him to see sense.”

  She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t even mention it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  There was no time to talk to John over the weekend. Between moving them in, and then celebrating, Gunner found a million different reasons to hold off the conversation. Not only that, he was keeping a close eye on the club. Kent seemed to be sticking close, and because of it, Gunner was being extra cautious. His patience was starting to wear thin but right now, he didn’t have any proof. Short of having the money in his hands, gut instinct didn’t help him. At least he had Scarlett and John’s drama to keep him occupied. Her need for a baby had touched him deeply. He wanted to give her what she wanted. Why she didn’t consider him he didn’t know, but he didn’t want her to think about all the times he’d taken her without a condom.

  Something wasn’t right for Gunner. It wasn’t like Scarlett to hold back or to make a deal out of something.

  He’d never used a condom with her. He’d filled her with his cum so many times that he’d lost count.

  Sitting in his office in his club, he stared down at the latest security footage and saw fucking nothing. Time was running out, and if someone was coming to take his patch from him, he wanted to be ready, and the only way to be ready was to be prepared.

  Getting out of his seat, he overlooked the parking lot and saw Kent’s bike wasn’t there. It was the first time, since Gunner had discovered the missing cash, that Kent had left the clubhouse. This was an opportunity he’d been waiting for. Not willing to miss it, he quickly got into action. Leaving his office, he made the decision, and moved toward the back of the clubhouse where all the rooms were. Some of the boys stayed at the clubhouse, along with the club whores. Not every man had something sweet to go home to like he did.

  Finding Kent’s room, which was at the bottom of the long hallway, he opened the door, finding it unlocked.

  He entered, and quickly closed it behind him. Kent was a fucking slob. Unlike his apartment, which was squeaky clean, this place was a fucking mess. Used condoms littered the floor, and clothes were all strewn around, which made him wonder why. Kent had been sticking close to the club more often than usual. He’d not noticed it before, but it was clear to see now.

  The women cleaned on a daily basis. Unless someone asked for them not to. Why didn’t Kent want anyone going through his room? This just heightened his suspicions of Kent’s motivations.

  Moving toward the man’s desk, he wrinkled his nose at the overfilled ashtray, empty beer cans, and he was sure he saw puke on the desk.

  “Fucking pig.”

  Keeping Kent as his VP had been important at the time, but right now, he was having some serious fucking doubts. When he’d taken control of the club, there had been a shitload of bloodshed. Even though he’d had doubts about Kent, he still had that belief that with the right leadership he’d be able to change the club. He’d changed it, but Kent still had bad blood inside him. The need for destruction and death was clearly ripe in his veins.

  Enemies closer and all that shit started to look overrated.

  Opening the desk, he found nothing. Paperwork and notes, along with the odd drawing was all bullshit. Everything was disgusting. He didn’t know how the fuck a man could live in this shit. Even during his time in war zones, he’d never experienced this kind of filth.

  Once he covered every single work surface and still nothing, he couldn’t help the feeling that he was missing something.

  Glancing across the room, he noticed the closet. There was no point in not looking at it now. He wouldn’t get another opportunity like this again. Going to the closet, he opened it up, and started to rummage through everything. He was surprised to see that the closet was as clean as Kent’s apartment. Nothing seemed out of place. Jeans were hung neatly, shirts folded, boots cleaned.

  “Come on, fucking think.” Looking around the small space, he paused.

  There in the back corner he found a box. Pulling it out, he flicked the lid off, and there was the money that had been going missing.

  Lots of it.

  He lifted the money out, and right at the bottom of the pile was a bag of cartel cocaine. He recognized the packaging as he’d transported some as a messenger. All of his suspicions were fucking true. The only problem he had now, was did Kent act alone? From what Carlos told him, no. There were rats in his club that he had to find, and find them he would. His club fucking depended on it.

  His rage knew no bounds as he stared at the evidence of the traitorous son of a bitch. This pissed him off so fucking much. He’d done nothing but steer the club in the right direction, and Kent was going to pull them down. His position within the club would never be fucking taken from him. He’d deal with Kent and all those traitors.

  Putting the money back into the box, he put the lid on and left the room.

  Making his way downstairs toward his office, he glanced up and saw some of his men laughing and joking. They were going about their business. Some of them had to have known.

  “Church in one hour,” Gunner said.

  He didn’t allow them to argue with him. He was the fucking Prez, and he could call church whenever he fucking felt like it. Kent’s betrayal would be dealt with, and he wanted to fucking kill the bastard.

  Sitting in the meeting room, staring at the patch, the club’s symbol carved into the wooden table, he gritted his teeth. He’d gotten this table specially crafted when he became Prez. Before him it had just been one fucking table with no meaning. This was how much the club meant to him. It had given him something to focus on when he’d gotten out of the army. There was no way he was ever going to let that fucker destroy what he’d built. The club was his, and he was going to keep it in the right direction.

  His cell phone rang, and as he pulled it out of his pocket, he saw it was Scarlett. For the first time in his life, he turned his cell phone off and ignored the call. Right now, he had to deal with a traitor in his midst.

  For an hour he sat there, waiting, preparing. One by one his men started to arrive, and he watched them. Each of them looked so fucking weary as they stared at him, but he didn’t give a fuck.

  As Prez of the Satan’s Demons MC, it was his right to call this meeting, to bring shit to the table, to get them all to vote, but it was his vote that would decide.

  One by one they entered, Kent coming in last, looking so fucking smug. Gunner watched him as he looked at a couple of the men. Two of them were old-timers who wanted to be part of the cartel. Another was brand new, not long earned his patch, but that was enough. All of them were going to go to ground.

  “What the fuck is all this about?” Kent asked, taking a seat.

  “We have a traitor in our midst.” He didn’t take his eyes off his VP. “Someone who thinks they can steal club money and get away with it. Someone who wants to run with the cartels and get away with it. Someone who wants to take my place as Prez.” Again, he didn’t look away, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a couple of people twitch. Some people didn’t want him to leave. He knew what he was doing. All of his life he’d been a protector, and he would do whatever it took to protect this club. He’d take his own life to serve it.

  He’d given his all.

  The moment he killed the son of a bitch who had this club and was working it into the ground, Gunner had stepped in. He’d taken the patch and been sure to make sure the boys prospered from their decision. They all got an equal share. Their families were always taken care of, and life was fucking easy for them.

  Every few weeks, he demanded a few club runs for business and to also keep them in the know of what was going on.

  Moving his gaze away from Kent, he looked at each of his men.

  “What makes you think someone is stealing from the club?” Kent asked.

  “I noticed the money not matching up. I saw the doctored sheets, and I had John looking into it.”

&n
bsp; “Please, John Williams is a pussy. He’s so wrapped around that wife of his he can’t even see straight,” Kent said.

  “He’s the best damn accountant in the country. He wasn’t the only one that was looking into it. I was. I noticed it first, and I brought it to his attention.” He glared at Kent. “This is my club, and I have no intention of taking it lightly. The cartels are not the right way to go. You want that shit riding in your town, you’re giving yourselves a death sentence.” He stood up, grabbed the box, and tossed out the contents in front of Kent.

  Kent immediately got to his feet, gun raised. “You think this proves anything?”

  “Guns are not supposed to be in the club.”

  His VP burst out laughing. “You’re fucking delusional, Gunner. This club is mine and will always be mine. The cartels are inevitable. You’re just too fucking blind to see it.”

  Gunner saw his men holding down Kent’s men.

  He couldn’t find a way to take on Kent.

  “They want me as Prez,” Kent said, moving back. “I will have it. This club will be fucking mine.”

  Kent opened the door, firing his gun, making them all take cover. During the struggle, two of the men got away, and Gunner rushed out after them. They were already gone, and he slammed his hand against the door.

  They were fucking cowards.

  Making his way back toward the main meeting room, he grabbed the remaining men and began shoving them out back of the clubhouse. He took them to the place where he’d taken the life of the previous Prez, and also anyone who thought to wrong the club.

  His men, the ones that were loyal to him, had his back, and were by his side, waiting.

  Grabbing a gun from Ford, he pointed it at the first man. “Tell me what I want to know,” Gunner said.

  “Why the fuck should we?” Grayson said, spitting on the dirty by his feet.

  Gunner fired his gun at the man’s leg, making sure not to hit anywhere that would make him bleed out fast.

  “Because if you don’t, I’m going to make this as long and as painful as possible. Believe me, I can do this shit for days to get what I want. At night, I’ll be here, watching, keeping you men in this exact position. Then of course, the animals will come, maybe rats, or wolves, or I’ll starve some dogs. Get them really nice and hungry before I set them on your fucking ass. You decided to stick with a traitor. Kent will get what is coming to him. This is my club, and instead of taking me on, he was a coward. Turning you all away from the club like this is a fucking playground. This is the real world, gentlemen. I don’t play by the playground rules, and no teacher is going to be coming to your rescue anytime soon.” One by one, he fired the gun so that all the men had matching wounds. “Tick tock, gentlemen. I don’t have all fucking day.”

 

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