“That’s it, go on, you know you want to,” Riggs encourages as he steps behind me and the trucker peels away from us, without twelve new motorcycles. I tighten my grip around the silver kitchen utensil and bring the head down to the table top and bring my first meeting as acting president to order.
Riggs clasps his hands over the back of my shoulders.
“Let’s tag some toes, motherfuckers,” he cheers.
I’m about to order them to drag the table into the garage when I hear the distinct sound of engines blaring. Without hesitation I reach behind me and draw my gun out of the waistband of my jeans and aim it at the gates. Riggs, mimics my stance and together we start for the gates. Stryker, Deuce and Cobra are right behind us, the adrenaline vibrates through the air as the bikes draw closer.
My finger steady on the trigger I watch the first bike turn into the lot.
“What the fuck?” Riggs says next to me, keeping his gun just as cocked and ready as Pipe leads a pack of at least ten bikes. I narrow my eyes as Pipe breaks in front of me and throws down his kickstand.
Lifting his helmet from his head, he turns to face me, bloodshot eyes peer back at me. There is nothing left of the man, his eyes are as dead as his soul and his body is just a shell, just a place to house the vengeance pulsing through his veins.
I avert my eyes to the men pulling up behind him and zero in on the Satan’s Knight’s patch sewn into their leathers.
“Brooklyn meet Bergen County,” Pipe introduces, tipping his chin to the gun in my hand. “You going to shoot the men here to help us or are you going to invite them to your table?”
Lowering my gun with one hand, I size up the president of the Bergen County charter, a man who goes by the name of Smoke.
“Word on the street is there is no Brooklyn charter,” Smoke says, dismounting from his bike.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to believe everything you hear?” I retort, tucking my gun into the front of my jeans.
He shrugs his shoulders.
“Better off letting them believe you’re dead that way they don’t expect to see your ghost,” he counters, holding out his hand. “Time for you to put those rumors to rest and show everyone what you’re made of, Blackie.”
I’ve been Jack’s right hand for years, been the talk of many, on the outside I’m nothing but a recovering junkie, a hothead who lost his way when he lost his wife. No one speaks of my loyalty to the reaper on my back, or the men I stand with. They don’t know what I’m capable of, what happens when I’ve been pushed too far. They don’t know the reason my road name is Blackie, they don’t know it’s because I’ve faded more lives to black than most—without consequence, without regard.
They tried fading us to black and now it’s their turn to fade. There won’t be any mishaps. There won’t be anyone left standing, not a fucking fly on the wall of their clubhouse will survive what we’re going to do. It’s not a test of physics, there won’t be some little prick in a basement making a bomb to strap to an unsuspecting asshole. No, revenge will be at the hands of the men surrounding me and it will be executed the old fashioned way, where we take life with our bare hands.
I lead my men and the men of the Bergen County charter into the garage and brief them on what I plan to do. An operation that seemed hopeless a few days ago springs to life and retribution is so close I can taste it. With the help of the other charter, the new bikes and enough ammo to take out a village we have a strong chance of wiping them out, especially if they don’t see us coming.
Surprise them.
Introduce them to the ghost of the Satan’s Knights.
Make them fade to Black.
My body is here lying on the couch next to Reina’s but my mind isn’t, my mind is out there, with my brothers fighting to take back what is ours. Even before I was the president, as long as I’ve held my patch I’ve been on the front lines. I don’t know what it’s like to be left behind while my boys are off riding and avenging.
I glance down as Reina reaches for my hands and rests them on top of her belly. I bury my face in the crook of her neck as the baby kicks against my hand. It’s my kid who reminds me that sometimes we all need to take a step back and appreciate the little treasures in life. The blessings.
She lifts her head from my chest and I stare at her lips as she says another name.
“Chloe,” she suggests.
I recite the name in my head and shrug my shoulders, not sold on the name. We’ve already decided on the name if the baby is a boy but this girl thing is rough. I don’t remember doing this with Connie when she was pregnant. I’m not sure if it’s because I didn’t have an interest back then or if it was because I was out on the road for most of her pregnancies. Probably a bit of both.
“What about Dana?” I say.
“I think we should just keep praying for a boy,” she replies and I actually hear every other word clearly. I’m noticing that I favor my left ear more so than my right.
The bell rings and Reina crawls off me and tries to lift herself off the couch but it’s a losing battle. I feel the smile tug at the corners of my mouth and lean forward to kiss her. Pregnancy suits Reina, makes me wish I was a little younger—we wouldn’t stop at one.
“I’ll get it,” I tell her, patting her knee for her to stay where she is on the couch. I grab my shirt off the back of the couch and pull it over my head as I walk to the front door, never expecting Grace Pastore to be on my door step.
“Hi, Jack,” she says, forcing a smile on her worn face. Vic’s wife is a looker but these days she looks so damn tired, so damn heartbroken.
“Come in,” I say, moving aside for her to enter before kicking the door closed and ushering her into the living room where Reina can help me communicate with our guest.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she starts as Reina holds out her hands to me and I help her onto her feet so she can greet Grace.
“Of course not,” Reina says. “Can we get you something? Coffee maybe?”
She shakes her head and turns to me.
“I came to congratulate you on the wedding,” she pauses, cocking her head to the side. “But now that I’ve said it, it sounds ridiculous. I’m so sorry about everything that transpired on what should’ve been such a beautiful day.”
I didn’t even notice the present in her hand until she handed it to Reina.
“Thank you, Grace,” Reina says, taking the present from her.
“Have you heard anything from Vic?” I ask and I immediately regret the question when her smile falters and she shakes her head.
“I don’t expect to either,” she answers, instantly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “No news means he’s still alive, so I hang on to that and hope he’s not suffering,” she says, turning to Reina who is staring down at a silver serving platter that has our names engraved on it. “Vic’s mother gave me one of those when we first got married and when the girls were born we added their names to it. We thought it was silly at first but after we had the girls we used that platter every night we ate dinner together as a family.”
“It’s beautiful,” Reina says, laying it on the coffee table. “And if we ever decide on a name, we’ll be sure to add it to the platter.”
“Grace,” I say, reaching out for her hand. Her tearful eyes lift to mine and I squeeze her hand. “Vic’s a lucky guy.”
“We were both lucky. It wasn’t just one sided,” she argues and then smiles sadly. “Love is precious, its frail, and it’s gone before some even have time to appreciate it.”
Her eyes drift between me and Reina before she continues.
“Enjoy these times, they may be bumpy, they may be hard but they’ll be a memory quicker than you realize.” She sighs wistfully, pulling me into her arms to embrace me. “If I know my husband as well as I think I do, I know he’d want me to come here today and wish you and your wife the best of luck and to tell you that.”
I wrap my arms around her and look at my wife, her face says
it all, she doesn’t want to ever be in Grace’s shoes. I’m an outlaw, albeit an out of commission one, but none the less a man who lives to tempt fate. If I had any sense whatsoever I’d take this injury and run. I’d give her and that kid everything they need, I’d give them me. But I’ve already been dealt these cards, and this patch isn’t just sewn to my cut but it’s branded to my soul.
“I should go,” Grace says, breaking our embrace and moving to kiss Reina goodbye.
“Thank you for the gift and for stopping by,” Reina replies. “Our door is always open.”
The smile on Grace’s face is genuine as she nods and I walk her to the door.
“Anything you need—” I say but she interrupts me.
“I know,” she whispers, cocking her head to the side as her warm eyes pierce mine. “Be safe, Jack Parrish, be smart and be attentive. That woman inside accepts you as you are, loves you as you are but her heart will only take so much. It takes a special kind of woman to live the life you and my husband chose. Respect her for trying.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek before turning on her heel. Her words ring in my ears as she walks to her car, reminding me I am a husband and a father first. Quickly her voice fades and is replaced with another familiar voice.
Ride or die.
You are Satan’s Knight.
You are the devil’s disciple.
And there she is, that bitch of a maker.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Frustrated, I drop the pen onto the open textbook sitting on the coffee table and reach for the banana clip next to it. I twist my hair into a bun and clip it in place as the front door opens. I’m used to hearing Blackie’s bike pull onto the street minutes before he walks through the door but with him driving his truck I never know when he’s coming home. Not that I mind, I’m just happy he actually comes home.
Since the hospital discharged us he’s been out a lot, bouncing between the Dog Pound, my father’s house and wherever the rest of the brothers are temporarily staying. It’s only been a couple of days but my heart doesn’t know that and neither does my mind. I’m lonely, missing him and worried sick. It’s different being the girlfriend versus being the daughter. I love both men but it's different with Blackie, my love has no bounds; it completely consumes every fiber of my being. Without Leather there is no leather and lace.
He throws his leather jacket on a chair and steps into the living room. Silently he walks over and drops down onto the couch behind me, leaning forward to unclip my hair he watches it cascade down my back.
“Come here,” he says huskily as I turn to face him. Unfolding my legs from under me I crawl on my knees and move between his legs. He pushes his fingers through my hair as I angle my head and look up at him.
“Miss you, girl,” he murmurs as he continues to stare at me thoughtfully before his gaze wanders to the books behind me on the coffee table. “Do you have a test?”
“Finals are next week,” I say with a nod. “Since you haven’t been around much, I figured I’d get a jumpstart on studying.”
“You feel like taking a break?” he questions, turning his attention back to my face. He cocks his head to the side, the tip of his index finger travels down my neck to the buttons on the front of my shirt.
“Does that mean you’re taking a break?” I reply, watching as his fingers play with the first button of my shirt.
“Yeah,” he nods, dropping his fingers from my shirt and meeting my gaze again. His tongue slips out and wets his lower lip before both lift into a smirk. “Need a fix of my girl.”
The way he looks at me has the butterflies that have been dormant over the last few days taking flight, their wings flutter around inside me causing me to hang on his every word.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I need time away from this shit sitting on my shoulders,” he explains pulling me off the floor as he leans back against the couch and drags me onto his lap. Cradling my face with his hands, he runs the tip of his nose down the bridge of mine and stares into my eyes. “I need to be with you, had nothing specific in mind, whatever you want to do, we’ll do. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go, girl.”
“Anything?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I know that look, girl,” he sighs, pulling back, leaning his head against the pillows as I straddle his lap. “So damn pretty,” he hisses, shaking his head. “Yeah, anything you want,” he agrees finally.
I push the hair from his face and dip my head to press my lips against his. The groan that instantly escapes his mouth excites me and has me grinding my hips against him as his hands slide into the back pockets of my jeans and he arches off the couch and I feel his thick erection beneath me.
“Later,” I promise, taking his lower lip between my teeth. “All night,” I state, releasing his lip and untangling his hands from around me. I climb off his lap and give him one last glance, watching as he palms the bulge in his jeans and hangs his head miserably. He’s so fucking hot when he’s horny.
“Hurry up,” he grunts as I head for the stairs.
Ten minutes later I’m dressed in a pair of Victoria’s Secrets Pink yoga pants and a hoodie with a zipper up the front. I come bounding down the steps and Blackie is sitting on the couch where I left him, flipping through my textbook.
He lifts his head and narrows his eyes as he takes in my casual appearance.
“Keys,” I say, holding out my hand as I smile at him. He pushes off the couch and walks toward me, digging into his pocket and producing his key ring. I go to snatch them from his hand but he pulls back, wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against him. His breath is hot on my ear, his scent intoxicating making me question why we’re even leaving the house.
“What you up to girl?”
“You’ll see,” I murmur, rising on my tip toes to grab the keys. He swats my ass playfully and follows me out the door. Once we’re in the car, he reclines the passenger seat back and keeps his eyes on me. I don’t need to turn around to know he’s smiling, I feel it down in my bones, deep inside my soul. It’s the smile that makes everything right, the smile that erases the doom that’s headed straight for us. It’s the smile I want to hang on tight to and never let go.
Enjoy it while it lasts.
I want to believe they are the words of my maker but they are our truth. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring for us, I don’t know what Blackie has been spending day and night planning. I probably won’t know until it’s over but whatever it is, it’s dark and ugly, cold and uninviting.
“Stop that,” he says softly, reaching over the console and cupping my knee. I tear my eyes away from the road and look at him from the corner of my eye.
“What?” I ask innocently, my voice cracking slightly.
“You got that look on your pretty face you get when your mind is working you over,” he says, with a shake of his head. “It’s just you and me tonight, girl. The rest of the world doesn’t exist. Tonight, we’re just Lacey and Dominic,” he says with a wink and an affectionate squeeze of my knee.
I love that so hard. There aren’t many times I get the man and not the knight but when I do, well, those moments are everything. They’re the moments we’re two ordinary people in love. There is no club, no illness or addictions, just a girl and a man who love one another despite everything weighing them down.
With no more thought to the storm heading our way I pull up to our destination and kill the engine on the truck. Blackie’s eyes lazily glance out the window at the tattoo parlor and I reach for my phone, snapping a photo to capture the smirk on his face with every intention to stare at the photo when I’m lonely and he’s off riding.
“You finally going to tattoo my name to that ass of yours?” he asks slyly as I turn the camera around and lean in close to him and snap a selfie.
“You’d love that wouldn’t you,” I reply, snapping another photo, this time my tongue sneaks out the corner of my mouth and touches his cheek.
The next selfie
is snapped as he pushes my hair away from my face and presses his lips to my cheek. Next, he grabs my face and the phone slips from my hand as his mouth crashes against mine and his tongue works its way into my mouth and over mine. I could easily get lost in the kiss just as easy as I can get lost in his scent or the way his body feels next to mine. The moan escapes my lips and melts against his as he slowly breaks the kiss and swipes his thumb over my lower lip.
“Girl,” he whispers.
“Don’t even try to talk me out of it,” I warn.
“Fuck that, never,” he laughs, dropping his finger from my mouth. “Nothing sexier than having my name on you,” he says, reaching for the door handle.
“I never said I was getting your name,” I laugh as I get out of the car and meet him around the front of the truck. He takes my hand and laces our fingers together, leading me toward the tattoo parlor.
“You didn’t have to.” He grins at me.
Three hours later I had a beautiful rose wrapped in rosary beads inked to my right shoulder blade. Blackie stopped me from adding his name to the tattoo, insisting he wants me to take his name in marriage not in ink.
“After you marry me, you can ink my name to every inch of your body but the first time you take my name will be when you’re my wife,” he said, whipping out his phone and snapping a picture of my face after he said the words.
There are some moments too good not to capture. Moments that are too good not to treasure.
I don’t tell her I’ll be on the road for the next three days, instead I pretend like everything is fine and I’m not about to declare war on the Corrupt Bastards. Ignorance is bliss and for tonight all I want to be is blissfully buried inside Lacey, drowning in the sweetness she possesses.
Holding her hand as the needle pricked her skin and marked her flesh provided the perfect distraction for a while but now we’re home and the only thing I want distracting me is her body. I watch her unzip the hoodie she’s wearing, glancing over her shoulder as she lowers it down and checks to see if the gauze is still taped to her back, covering her new tattoo.
The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition Page 192