Finding Cyn: Devil's Knights Series

by Winter Travers

  I didn’t want to scare Cyn so I let it drop between Gambler and me.

  “Come grab the rest of the shit with me.” King motioned to me.

  I followed King into the house and grabbed the buns and shit and headed back out the door.

  Cyn was setting the overflowing platter full of brats on the table. She grabbed the three packs of buns I had dangling from my fingers and started opening them.

  I heard the roar of motorcycles pull up the drive, knowing the rest of the guys had arrived.

  Cyn’s eyes darted to the front of the house, watchful of who was about to walk in.

  “You ok, beautiful?” I asked, grabbing the spoons King had brought out and sticking them into the bowls of potato salad and cole slaw.

  “Um, yeah. Still kind of tired but I’m good. How many people are coming?” She asked, watching the side of the house.

  “There is eighteen of us total, but I doubt all the brothers are going to show. Probably only six or so more.” I glanced to the side of the house and saw Crowbar, Demon, Slider, Python, and Roam walk in.

  “Where’s that gorgeous ol’ lady of yours King?” Slider asked, grabbing two beers, opening both.

  “Remember the last time you brought up Meg, douche bag?” King growled as he dropped the rest of the food on the picnic table.

  “What’d I say? I asked a legitimate question. I’ve been in town for almost three weeks now and I’ve only seen you a handful of times. All those times, by the way, Meg was with you.” Slider gruffed, sitting on the other side of the picnic table.

  “You jealous of Meg, Slider?” Gravel taunted.

  “Fuck off, old man. Where’s all the pussy?” Slider asked, looking around.

  “Got to be fucking kidding me,” Gravel mumbled under his breath.

  Cyn’s eyes bugged out of her head at Slider’s words. Fuck me. Cyn was never going to be with me with these fucking idiots around. King was the first one of us to get an ol’ lady and there was obviously some adjustment going on.

  “You want pussy, brother, you need to haul your ass back to the clubhouse. None of that shit is going on at Cyn’s house,” King growled.

  “You Cyn?” Slider asked, his eyes traveling over Cyn. His eyes assessed her, taking in the fading bruises, cuts, and broken arm.

  “Yup,” Cyn whispered.

  “Sorry, babe,” Slider said, losing the attitude he had seconds ago.

  Cyn gave Slider a small smile. “You done being an ass?” I asked, pissed that Slider can never think before he fucking speaks.

  “For the next couple of hours,” Slider shot back.

  “You guys are like little boys,” Cyn said, opening the last pack of buns. Her broken arm slowing her down.

  “They’re worse,” King chimed in.

  “I am far from a little boy, babe.” Slider said, winking at Cyn.

  Fucker was God damn shameless. “Eat, assholes,” I snapped, seeing all the food was ready.

  Cyn walked over to the chair she was sitting in before and sat down, grabbing her drink. I walked over, standing over her, looking down. “You need to eat.”

  “I will when everyone else eats,” she said.

  “There might not be anything left with the way these fuckers eat. You’d swear it was their last meal half the time,” I said, looking back at the picnic table seeing Crowbar shove half a brat in his face and Speed walking past with three brats and two hot dogs on one plate and another plate piled high with salads and chips.

  “You might be right,” Cyn said, looking amazed at the guys filling their plates.

  “Come on, beautiful.” I reached my hand out grabbing Cyn’s, hoisting her out of the chair.

  “I just need a brat,” she mumbled as I dragged her over to the table.

  “You need to eat more than that,” I ordered, handing her a plate.

  I grabbed two brats, sticking them in buns and put them on her plate. “Rigid, stop. I can’t eat all this.” I mounded two big piles of potato salad and cole slaw on her plate and threw some chips on top.

  “Eat.”

  “Do we need to have another discussion about doughnut houses?” Cyn bitched, cocking her hip out, resting her hand on it.

  “What the fuck is a doughnut house?” King asked as he filled his own plate.

  “Long and stupid story, brother. Partly due to your ol’ lady,” I said, physically turning Cyn towards her chair, my hand on her lower back, guiding her back to her chair.

  “You’re just pissed that you can’t come. Hell, none of you can come. Meg and I are the only ones who can go. You’re all too hard and muscley,” Cyn pouted, plopping down in her chair, munching on a chip.

  “What the fuck does Meg have to do with it?” King wanted to know. He sat down next to Cyn leaving the chair on the other side of her open for me.

  “Meg and I are going to live in a doughnut house so we can eat doughnuts anytime we want and not have to worry about anyone judging us. You guys are too hot to live in a doughnut house.” Cyn replied. Acting like what she was saying made sense when it fucking didn’t.

  “Won’t the doughnuts be stale before you got around to eating them?” Roam asked, as if this made sense.

  “Not if we shellac them with icing,’ Cyn said, taking a bit of brat and swallowing. ‘Who are you? Rigid introduced me to some of you, but some of you are new.”

  “That dip shit is Roam. He isn’t around very much,” I explained.

  “Places to be, darlin’,” Roam explained, winking at Cyn.

  “Those two fuckers over by the table,’ I said, pointing by the picnic table, ‘are Demon and Crowbar. Demon is Crowbar’s sponsor. Demon is the VP.”

  Cyn nodded at both of them, not speaking.

  “Sitting at the picnic table are Python and Slider. Slider is a member of the Collinsworth chapter. He decided to come and bug the shit out of us up here.”

  “Fuck you. I actually came to scope shit out, see how things were going up here. Collinsworth is getting boring. Maybe I’ll transfer up here,” Slider said. I looked to King to see if he knew about that. He looked as surprised as the other brothers.

  “We’ll discuss that shit later,” King said.

  “Do you all have fake names?” Cyn asked.

  “Not fake, darling. They’re road names. We all earned them,” Gravel explained.

  “So who isn’t here? I want to hear all these names,” she said, finishing her first brat.

  “Edge and Whiskey are scoping out venues for our new business venture. Swinger, Blade, Cowboy, Mickey, and Wheeler are at the garage. We had a couple last minute clients come in and they had to stay late to finish them up,” King said.

  “How do you get a road name?” Cyn asked Gravel.

  “They just kind of happen, darlin’. I got mine because I spent more time picking gravel out of my teeth than riding my motorcycle,” Gravel chuckled.

  “From the stories I heard, it took Gravel a good year before he stopped laying his bike down all the time,” I laughed.

  Cyn laughed, finally relaxing. “Ok. So how did you get your name Crowbar?”

  All the brothers busted out laughing. “Well, you see,’ Demon said after the laughing died down, ‘Ol’ Crowbar here was having a hell of a time on a run a few weeks after he became a prospect. One thing after another kept breaking on his bike. Well, he finally had enough of it when he ran over a crow bar someone had left in the road and it popped his tire.”

  “So his name is Crowbar because he ran one over?” Cyn asked.

  “No, darling. His name is Crowbar, because after he ran over the crowbar, he got off his bike, walked across two lanes of traffic, picked up the crowbar and beat the living shit out of his bike.” We all roared with laughter remembering that day.

  Cyn smiled, looking at Crowbar who was blushing under her inspection. “So if you beat the shit out of your bike, how did you get back to the clubhouse?”

  “Dumbass had to ride bitch with Demon. Funniest ninety miles of my fucking life
.” Speed snickered.

  Cyn busted out laughing, throwing her head back. I watched her, loving that she was loosening up. “I can definitely see how that nickname came about,” she joked.

  “Cyn your real name, babe?” Slider asked.

  “Cynthia. I hate it. I feel like a ninety year old when anyone calls me that. My parents have been calling me Cyn for forever,’ she said, handing me her plate. ‘I can’t eat any more, Augie,” Cyn smirked.

  “What the fuck did she call you?” Hammer asked around a mouthful of food.

  “None of your fucking business,” I bit out. Fucking Augie. Where the hell was she coming up with these names?

  Cyn burst out laughing, thinking she was a regular fucking comedian. “Real funny, Cynthia.” I mumbled under my breath.

  She shot me an eat shit look, knowing we were even on the name front for now.

  “If you would just tell me your name I wouldn’t have to guess such ridiculous names.” She shot back at me.

  “You got to earn it, beautiful. No one has ever taken the time to earn it.” I leaned into her, my face inches away from hers.

  She grabbed a chip off the plate she handed me, shoving it in her mouth, crunching loudly. “I don’t like playing games, Rigid. Someone always gets hurt.”

  “No games, beautiful. Just stick around and you’ll find out. No running.”

  She looked me in the eye, studying me. “Maybe you’re the one who’s going to run, not me.” Cyn whispered. I could tell she believed those words.

  “I haven’t run yet, babe.” I leaned in closer till we were just a whisper apart.

  She didn’t back down, stood her ground, staring me down. “Yet,” she whispered. She leaned the last half an inch and pressed her soft lips against mine. She parted her lips, waiting for me to react. I waited half a second till my tongue swiped her lip, giving me a taste of what I had been craving.

  Her hand grasped my arm and a whimper escaped. She wrapped her other arm around my neck, pulling herself even closer to me.

  My tongue delved into her mouth, a groan I couldn’t hold back rumbled out, and my need for Cyn took over. I dropped my plate, not giving a fuck about it. I framed her face with my hands and took what I needed.

  I was seconds away from pulling her into my lap, desperate for her to straddle me, when I heard someone clear their throat, slamming me back in reality. I pulled away and looked into Cyn’s eyes. They were clouded with desire and want, begging for more, her breath shallow.

  Holy shit.

  <<<<<<<

  Cyn

  I was panting. Fucking panting. If Rigid wouldn’t have pulled away, I’m pretty sure I would have been in his lap, begging for him to take me.

  I had heard someone clearing their throat but it hadn’t registered. I was completely zoned out, only caring about what Rigid was doing to me.

  “Beautiful,” Rigid whispered, brushing his lips against mine, making me follow his retreating lips, wishing for more.

  He sat back in his chair, staring at me.

  “What the fuck is this?” Someone boomed, walking out of the house.

  I tore my gaze away from Rigid, afraid if I stared any longer I would drag him back to my bed and beg for him to take me.

  My gaze landed on Crowbar who was carrying the two pans of bars Meg and I had made. “Banana Cream bars and Snicker bars,” I mumbled, still out of it from Rigid’s kiss.

  “Fuck yeah. Meg cooks like Betty fucking Crocker,” Gravel said, grabbing a pan from Crowbar and setting it on the table. He grabbed the knife out of Crowbar’s hand and cut a chunk off. He grabbed it out of the pan, shoving half of it in his mouth.

  “You going to cut some for the rest of us, fucker, or you just going to feed your own face?” King asked, shaking his head at him.

  “The only person who can even compete with Meg’s cooking is your mom. So, fuck yeah, I’m going to feed myself before you fuckers get your god damn hands on it,” Gravel said.

  “I can cut them,” I said, getting up and walking over to the table. Now that Rigid’s lips weren’t on mine, I was thinking clearly. I still wanted Rigid, I wasn’t going to deny that, I just knew I shouldn’t try to jump him with all his friends around.

  The second I made the last cut, the pans were grabbed away from me and being passed around.

  I glanced back at Rigid, his eyes staring me down and I felt my cheeks heat. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

  “You got testical toss, babe?” Slider asked, breaking me from my stare down with Rigid. I glanced at Slider, seeing him licking his fingers clean.

  “Uh, you mean ladder golf?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that too. You got it?”

  “Garage,” I replied. Slider wiped his hands on his jeans and headed in the direction of the garage with Turtle right behind him.

  I grabbed my drink off the table and headed back to my chair. I grabbed the arm and scooted it away from Rigid. I heard him chuckle but didn’t look at him. I knew I was being ridiculous moving my chair three inches away from him, but damn it, he was driving me crazy.

  My bruises were fading quickly and the pain was tolerable now but I knew I was still burying my head in the sand when it came to losing my baby and what Asshat had done to me.

  “No running, Cyn,” Rigid said, pulling the chair back to where it was.

  “I’m not running. I just don’t need to be sitting in your lap,” I sniped, plopping down in the chair.

  “Trust me, if I wanted you in my lap you’d be there,” Rigid said, taking a drink from his beer and dropping it in the cup holder.

  “Caveman Rigid is here, I see,” I said.

  “You’ve no idea, beautiful,” Rigid said, winking at me.

  “Alright fuckers, she’s got testical toss and corn hole.” Slider said, walking back from the garage carrying the two ladders for testical toss (since that was what Slider had renamed ladder golf) and the balls hanging on his neck with Turtle following behind carrying the two boards for corn hole (also known as bean bag toss.).

  “Fuck yeah. I’m in,” Crowbar said throwing his empty plate in the garbage and helped Slider and Turtle set up.

  “You want to be my partner, beautiful?” Rigid asked.

  “Oh, so I actually get a choice? What if I wanted Slider to be my partner?”

  “I’d say we need to get your head checked out again. You might still have a concussion if you’d rather be with Slider than me,” Rigid said pointing to where Slider was gesturing for Turtle to suck his dick.

  “I think I might be better on my own,” I laughed, watching Turtle tackle Slider to the ground.

  “Stick with me, beautiful. I’m the king at testical ball,” Rigid said, getting up from his chair. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him.

  “I guess if I have to be partners with you,” I said, smirking at Rigid. I tucked my broken arm around his back, wrapping my good arm around his waist.

  “Alright fuckers, divide up.” King called.

  “Come on, beautiful,” Rigid said, guiding me over to one side of the Testical Ball Toss.

  Demon and Python teamed up, Slider and Turtle were still slugging it out on the ground so I assumed they were partnered together. Gravel was talking to Gambler about strategy (was there really any strategy to testical toss and corn hole?) and Roam and Hammer were quickly chugging their beers, not making eye contact with King. King was the only one standing without a partner.

  “King sucks at sports,’ Rigid said, chuckling under his breath. ‘No one ever wants to team up with him.”

  “You’re all a bunch of fuckers,” King grumped, walking over to the case of beer and pulling one out.

  “He can’t be that bad,” I said, feeling sorry for King.

  “Babe, every time we play testical toss he somehow ends up losing at least two up in a tree or telephone wire.” Rigid handed me the red set of balls and walked over to the other set of ladders.

  I looked up at the telephone wires that ran
across the back of my yard, wondering how the hell King could get them up that high.

  “He tell you about the telephone wires?” Gambler asked, taking the blue set of balls off the ladder.

  “Uh, yeah. I don’t see how he can get them up that high. The ladders are only four feet high.” I pondered, looking from the ladder to the sky.

  “Neither do I, babe. But I’ve seen it happen.” Gambler smirked.

  I looked at King who had moved his chair closer to the game, but I could still tell that he was pouting. “That man,’ I pointed to King, ‘can’t get this,’ I held up the two balls connected by a rope, ‘on that?” I asked Gambler, nodding at the ladder in front of us, amazed.

  “You don’t want to know, darlin’.” Gambler laughed.

  “I’m assuming copious amounts of alcohol had to do with the telephone wire incident,” I said, watching King chug his beer, pouting.

  Gambler winked at me. “Don’t all the good stories involve copious amounts of alcohol?”

  “You’re probably right,” I muttered under my breath.

  Gambler took the first turn and I looked around my yard. Rigid and Gravel were on the other side from Gambler and myself, while Demon and Python were playing corn hole against Roam and Hammer.

  Slider and Turtle were off the ground and were pulling up chairs next to King to wait for their turn.

  “You’re turn, darlin’,” Gambler mumbled to me.

  I tore my gaze from the oddness that had taken over my yard and focused on the game.

  Maybe this was going to be my new normal. Hanging out with a motorcycle club.

  Oy.

  <<<<<<<<

  Chapter 18

  Rigid

  “Knock it off or I’m going to knock you out with my cast.” Cyn yelled across the yard.

  “Bring it on, darlin’,” Gambler goaded her as he threw the balls again, wrapping it around the wrung of the ladder.

  “This is rigged. You rigged this!” Cyn bellowed.

  Cyn and I were playing our third game against Gravel and Gambler. They had kicked our asses the last two times and Cyn was determined to at least beat them once.