by Carol Lynne
“No,” Stake refused. “We had a deal. I’ll ride out the two weeks I have left and keep Santana at the house, but I’m not staying.”
Cecil narrowed his eyes. “Are you challenging me?”
Stake knew he needed to tread lightly, but he wouldn’t back down. “I’ll find someone the whores will be happy with, but as soon as that’s done, I need your word that you’ll let me go, and you’ll put a call into Digger on my behalf.”
Cecil scowled, but before he could say anything, Stake continued. “Smash saved your life and it cost him his own. Getting Santana the hell away from Broken Ridge would clear that debt.”
Stake could tell by Cecil’s expression that he didn’t like being reminded of the debt he owed Smash for killing the cop, but a debt was a debt.
“The girls have to be satisfied,” Cecil finally replied.
“They will be,” Stake promised. Tiny was the first person who came to mind, but he wouldn’t give Cecil a name until he discussed it with his friend. He left the clubhouse and found Tiny and Santana laughing their asses off. He stopped and drank in the sound of Santana’s happiness. After everything she’d been through, he hated to pull her away from Tiny. As he crossed the distance between them, a plan began to form.
Chapter Nine
By the time Stake carried Santana to the pickup, she knew she was shit-faced. “I shouldn’t have drunk that whisky.”
Stake smiled over at her as he climbed in the truck. “You’re not planning to pass out on me, are you?”
“Nope.” She giggled. “Although,” she began as she hiked up her short dress, “you could keep me awake while we drive home.”
With a deep groan, he unzipped his jeans. “Come closer, babe.”
She licked her lips as she slid across the seat. “I love your cock,” she slurred as she reached for him.
When she leaned down to plant her face in his lap, he grabbed her hair. “Touch me with those gorgeous fuckin’ lips, and I’ll explode.”
She looked up at him. “I thought that’s what you wanted?”
He shook his head. “My dick wants to be buried inside your pussy.”
Score. She knelt on the seat and pushed her dress higher before moving to straddle his lap. The steering wheel bumped against her spine, but it wasn’t enough to deter her from riding her man. “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” she confessed, lowering herself onto his cock. She moaned as the bulbous head stretched her inner walls, sending sparks of pleasure through her body.
“Fuck, babe,” Stake groaned. He squeezed her bare ass and lifted her up before letting her sink back down.
Each time he repeated the action, his fingers moved closer to her asshole. She’d become accustomed to his anal play while they fucked, but he’d never taken it beyond a finger or two. On more than one occasion, she’d almost asked him to take her there, but she’d always been too embarrassed to admit she wanted it. With the booze coursing through her blood, however, her inhibitions fell away.
“When are you going to fuck me there?” she asked when his finger penetrated her.
“Soon,” he growled, pumping his finger in and out of her ass as he continued to fuck her pussy. “It’ll take patience. I’ll have to go slow with you, and I can’t because every time you’re naked in my arms, all I can think about is fucking your cunt.”
She braced her hands on his shoulders and took over, riding his cock as fast as the tight confines of the pickup allowed. She wanted all of him. Every drop of seed, every look, touch and ounce of love he could spare for her.
Panting, she threw her head back. “I’m close.”
Stake’s entire body went rigid and she thought he’d come, but when she looked at him, his focus was on the road off to the left.
“Stop,” he told her, lifting her off his cock.
When he set her on the seat, she groaned in frustration. “What the hell?” God, she’d been too close to be denied. She reached for her pussy to finish herself off when Stake stilled her hand.
“Cops,” he warned as he stuffed his cock back into his jeans.
Her attention snapped to the line of police vehicles speeding towards the parking lot with lights flashing. Oddly enough, their sirens weren’t blaring. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” He reached over and helped her pull her dress down. “Whatever it is, it’s not good.” He eyed the hidden compartment where he kept his gun.
“No,” she warned.
Stake met Santana’s gaze. “I love you,” he whispered as the police surrounded the pickup.
“What have you done?” she asked. Dammit, she’d wanted to kill Gordon before Stake had a chance to get to him.
* * * *
“Get your hands up in the air where we can see them!” a deep voice shouted.
Still staring at Santana, Stake tried to figure out what the hell was going on. It wasn’t the first time the local cops had tried to make a bust at one of the club gatherings, but they didn’t appear to be after anyone but him. “Say nothing, but do what they ask,” he ordered as he raised his hands into the air.
Santana nodded and lifted her arms. “I love you,” she said as their doors were thrown open.
Stake was jerked from the truck and pushed to the ground. The gravel bit into his body when three of the cops fell on top of him. What the fuck? He wasn’t even resisting. “What’s this about?” he demanded to know.
One of the cops wrenched Stake’s arms behind his back. “Motherfucker!” Stake yelled when the cop pinched the skin of his wrist with the cuffs. “What the hell is going on?” He tried to turn his head to find Santana, but a knee against the side of his face kept him in place.
Cuffs in place, two cops jerked Stake up by his arms. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Peter Gordon,” one of the local cops hissed in Stake’s ear.
The blood drained from his face as the charge sank in. He hadn’t killed Gordon. Fuck. He frantically searched the growing crowd for Santana. When he spotted her, bile rose in his throat. Robby had her pressed against his patrol car, running his hands slowly up her bare thighs. “Langers!” he screamed as he fought against the cops holding him.
Robby turned his head and grinned at Stake as his hands disappeared under the short hem of Santana’s dress. “Just frisking her,” Robby yelled back. “Doing my job.”
With her forehead rested on the hood of the car and her arms handcuffed behind her, Santana’s entire body shook with wracking sobs. Oh. God. He fought again, knowing Robby’s treatment would send her back to the night of her attack. “No!” he screamed as he kicked out against the men wrestling him to the ground.
“Help her!” he shouted to the crowd of brothers witnessing the event.
A kick to his ribs knocked the breath out of him as a punch landed against the side of his face. Never had he felt so goddamned helpless. Tears filled his eyes as he continued to stare at the love of his life.
A SUV pulled up, siren blaring. It cut off with a chirp as Jack Boone climbed out of his vehicle. Stake prayed the Texas Ranger would help Santana. When Jack made his way toward Stake, Stake shook his head. “Santana!”
Jack stopped and glanced around, his gaze finally landing on Santana. “What the fuck!” he yelled, marching over to Langers. He pushed Robby away from Santana and immediately pulled out a set of keys to release her from her cuffs. With a nod to Stake, Jack turned Santana around and pulled her against him. He spoke to her, but they were too far away for Stake to hear what was being said. It didn’t matter to him. All that he cared about was keeping Langers away from her. He stopped fighting the cops and laid in the gravel, his entire body on fire from the blows and scrapes it had suffered while trying to get to Santana.
Jack wasn’t perfect, but he was the best cop Stake had ever come across. He hoped he’d use his power to make sure Santana was treated fairly. As he continued to watch Jack soothe Santana, he couldn’t help but worry that she had something to do with Gordon’s death, but how was that possi
ble? Since picking her up at the store the previous day, Santana hadn’t been out of his sight except for the few minutes he’d been in a meeting with Cecil.
Jack walked Santana to his SUV and opened the door for her. He spoke to her again as he gently helped her into the backseat. After shutting her inside, he walked toward Stake. “Who’s in charge?” he asked.
“I am,” Buz Reynolds, the Broken Ridge Chief-of–Police, said as he stepped forward.
Jack put his hands on his hips. “I’d suggest you control your men before this crowd steps in to do it for you.”
Stake noticed Tiny standing a few feet from Jack’s SUV. With his hands fisted at his sides, Tiny stared at Santana through the darkened window. Tiny? He remembered Santana being unable to find Tiny earlier in the evening, and at that moment, Stake knew Tiny had killed Gordon. The timing had been absolutely perfect because Stake and Santana both had alibis. Oh, shit. He fucking owed Tiny his life for what he’d done.
* * * *
As he sped his way toward home, Stake continued to watch the rearview mirror for any sign he was being followed. The police had kept him and fourteen other brothers who’d tested positive for gunshot residue on their hands and clothing for over five hours while they’d questioned them over and over again. Each time Stake had made the same statement. He’d been at the party all evening and hadn’t left the premises. Fortunately, he had close to fifty people who could corroborate his story. The same could be said for the rest of the brothers who tested positive.
Of course Jack and the other Rangers who’d shown up knew one of them was lying, but they couldn’t pin the crime on any one of them. Stake was under no illusion that they would stop looking for answers and evidence of the shooting, but for now, they’d been forced to let them go with a warning not to leave town.
He pulled into his driveway and slammed on the brakes before jumping out of the truck. Hog’s wife, Birdie, had taken Santana home soon after Jack had determined Santana’s hands were clean.
As soon as he entered the house, Birdie jumped to her feet. “She’s in the bathroom. I can’t get her to talk to me.”
Stake nodded. “Thanks for staying with her. I’ll take it from here.” He entered the master bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, babe? Can I come in?”
Nothing. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her suffering alone for hours. He prayed she hadn’t done something stupid. He rushed to the kitchen and retrieved the ice pick from the drawer before running back to the bathroom. It took only a moment for him to pop the lock and open the door.
Santana sat in the tub with her bent legs pressed against her torso. Arms wrapped around her legs, she rocked back and forth, seemingly unaware of his presence.
Within minutes, he was out of his clothes and prepared to join her in the tub. When his foot hit the water, he jerked back. “It’s fucking freezing,” he admonished, flipping the lever that would drain the water.
He teetered between lifting her out of the tub and joining her. In the end, he decided there had to be a reason she had climbed into the water in the first place. He began to refill the tub with warm water as he moved to squeeze in behind her. She still hadn’t spoken, but she did turn to her side and rest her cheek against his chest. “Talk to me, lady bug.”
“Why?” she asked.
He tried to hold her shaking body as close as he could as he willed his body to warm her. “Why what?”
“I was supposed to kill him. Why’d you do it?”
Stake blew out a long breath. He hadn’t spoken of his suspicions to anyone, including Tiny. “I didn’t. I was with you, remember?”
She looked up at him for the first time since he’d entered the bathroom. “Then who?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I bet it was someone who couldn’t stand the thought of that man living another day to torment you.” Knowing how far Tiny would go for Santana had changed Stake’s mind about asking Tiny to take over with the whores. He still wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he needed to get Tiny transferred to Fayetteville, and that would be easier accomplished if Tiny never slipped into the role Stake was vacating. He found the wet washcloth on the side of the tub and began to wash the smeared mascara from her face. “Whoever it was, must loved you a lot.”
Her eyebrows drew together for a moment before shooting up to her hairline as the answer dawned on her. “Tiny?”
Shrugging, he grabbed the bar of soap and rubbed it against the washcloth. “Promise me that you’ll never ask him about it. Believing he did it and knowing the truth are two different things as far as the police are concerned.” He kissed the top of her head as he began to wash her chest. “Will you tell me why you were sitting in an ice cold bath?”
Tears filled Santana’s eyes. “He touched me. Inside of me,” she admitted as she turned her head away.
“Shhh. Don’t cry. God, please, don’t cry.” No matter what he’d done in his life, nothing cut him like the sight of her tears, but she’d always had that effect on him. Until he’d met the young girl with kaleidoscope eyes, he’d never known what unconditional love meant. He’d survived his own childhood with an occasional pat on the arm or thank you, but had never heard the words he hadn’t known he’d been missing until Santana had wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and told him she loved him when he’d brought her a Christmas present when she was barely five.
Those simple words had started to change the way he’d looked at himself in the mirror. His feelings of protectiveness had only grown once Smash had started the whippings. The first time he’d found her bruised and crying, he’d sworn to himself he’d make Smash pay for what he’d done. Unfortunately, Smash hadn’t seen it the same way. He’d informed Stake that Santana wasn’t his to worry about, and if Stake continued to try to insinuate himself into their family business, he’d make sure Stake never had contact with Santana again. Caught between wanting to help and the knowledge that he needed to be accessible to Santana in case the unthinkable occurred, he’d shut his mouth. And, with each beating, he’d lost a part of himself. By the time Smash went to prison and Ellie had made it impossible for Stake to look after Santana, the beautiful creature was no longer a child. He’d taken what was left of his self-worth and had sealed off his heart out of preservation.
“I feel dirty,” Santana whispered, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“No, babe, you’re not dirty, but let me wash Robby’s touch from you.” He soaped the washcloth again and tried to soothe the only person he’d ever loved. “Do you remember me taking you to the fair when you were little?”
She nodded.
“Those memories are some of the best for me. I loved hearing you laugh as you rode rides that you probably had no business being on. You were so fearless.” He rested his cheek against the top of her head before tipping her chin back to press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. “You still are. I admire the woman you’ve become even if it breaks my heart that you did it without my help.”
“You’re wrong.” She rested her hand on top of his and pushed the washcloth toward her pussy. “There’s nothing to admire about what I’ve become.”
Although he knew she needed his touch, he wanted to shake her at the statement. “How can you say that? Look at you. Despite everyone in your life trying to knock you down, you’re kind and loving, and so fucking perfect.”
He acquiesced and ran the washcloth over her pussy several times. “You give me a reason every day to think before I act. In those years after your dad’s death, I walked around without a soul. No job was too dangerous, because I didn’t care if I lived or died. To be completely honest, there were times when I thought dying would be the best thing that could happen.”
Santana pulled the washcloth out of his hand. “Let me feel you,” she sighed. “I need your touch to erase his.”
He realized words weren’t what she needed, and slipped his fingers between the lips of her pussy. She was slick and warm and he wished he could swallow he
r whole and protect her from the outside world. The house Gypsy had found for them was a step in the right direction, but he needed to make sure he only surrounded her with people who saw her as he did. That meant getting her the hell away from Broken Ridge. Unfortunately, until the investigation into Gordon’s death was closed, he wouldn’t be allowed to follow her.
“I need you to do me a huge favor,” he said, slipping two fingers inside her core.
“Anything,” she said, her breathing picking up.
“I can’t leave town until I’m cleared by the cops, but I need you to go to Fayetteville and set up a house for us. My friend, Gypsy, found something, and it would really help me out if you could look at it and do whatever needs doing while I’m stuck here.”
Before he had a chance to react, Santana pulled out of his grasp and stepped out of the tub. Fuck! “Babe, it’ll probably just be for a month or so.”
She spun around and glared at him. “I knew you’d leave me again. I thought I was prepared for it, but I didn’t count on you sending me away.”
“Goddammit!” Stake stood and climbed out of the bath. Without thought, he grabbed her upper arms and held her in place. “I fucked up when Smash died. I’m sorry that I abandoned you, but that’s never going to happen again.” He pulled her against his chest. “I’m nothing without you, and I mean that literally.”
Slowly, as their skin began to dry, Santana returned his embrace. “You’re my strength. I don’t know that I can go through this without you.”
Although he didn’t believe it for a second, his heart filled to bursting. “I know you can do this, babe. I have to send you away or risk killing every person who tries to make you feel less than you really are.”
She pulled away enough to stare up at him, but didn’t say anything.
“I hope Fayetteville will be a fresh start for both of us. I want you to find girlfriends to laugh and gossip with because your happiness means more to me than anything else. And, while you’re away, I trust Gypsy to make sure you have everything you need. He’s a damn good man.” He brushed his thumb down her cheek. “He even offered to take out Gordon for me, so I have no doubt you’ll be safe with him.”