by Cheri, Ann
Take it.
The little voice inside me was driven. Warmth was coming back to my body little by little as I pulled the weapon free of Jude’s dead grasp. I looked up at the maze I’d run through, standing again. With the gun held in both hands the pants fell, my long and blood soaked shirt acting as a makeshift dress. In another place I might have been modest. Looking down at my bleeding knees, I could only imagine the horror I had become.
Run.
There was nothing else to do. It was time to end this. I grabbed the gun and ran toward the Black without any regard to my own safety. No dark night could terrify me more than the one I’d survived. My finger itched on the trigger as I rounded the crates with Black, moving toward the whittling gunfire. An unholy scream erupted from my lungs as I broke free of the space and charged the King’s little hiding space from behind. My voice was drowned out by the rattle of the gun in my hands, fighting to hold the recoil down as I sprayed left across the small handful of men still crouched behind a retaining wall. Black was right alongside me, firing into the chaos. An explosion flashed out unexpectedly before me, light and color filling my eyes.
Tiny elephants trotted through my stomach, a crushing blow dropping me even as the stream of bullets ceased their flow from my barrel. I fell, head smacking the pavement as my hands pressed against the leaking hole. My vision drew into a tunnel, pain pouring out from every inch of my body. I scraped my cheek on the ground, spinning my head upward to see the man moving toward me falling to his side, a mist of blood still hanging in the air. Behind him, a grizzled old man with his arm in a sling came round the wall, boots crashing toward me in slow motion, handgun held high.
“Ash…” I whispered. “Help me.”
The world went dark.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
“I thought I’d lost you sweetheart.”
The voice was soft, and it drifted effortlessly though my sleepy head. I felt good. Not the natural kind of good you feel, but a totally unnatural kind of good where nothing in the whole world would make me feel bad. My eyes fluttered, trying to catch the light and focus. What a nice dream… What a nice bed…
Where the hell am I.
I squirmed in place, looking about. A coat stand made for a makeshift IV rack, and a bag hung from it, the thin tube coiling down into my arm. Half the room looked totally clinical, but the other half was a mess…
“Mina?”
I turned, the young wannabe doctor smiling from a couch. “You need your rest Kattlyn. Don’t try to move,” she said, her tone almost motherly.
“What am I, chop liver?” Black said, standing over the bed.
My words were caught in my throat. What do you say to the man who holds your heart? How can you apologize for your mistakes and promise everything will be different.
“You scared the shit out of me on those docks. Remind me never to piss you off…”
I laughed, a dull ache making stabbing pains in my side.
“Careful Kattlyn, careful. The morphine is wearing off and you’ve got a nasty cut.”
Cut? I was shot! My memories flashed as my hands reached down instinctively to my stomach.
“Relax sweetheart, relax, one of those assholes dropped a pipe bomb when you went crazy. I had to pull out some shrapnel.”
“Shrapnel?” I said, trying not to get too loud. The pain was worse when I shouted. Mina stood up, stepping toward the bed and pulling a needle from the shelf, injecting something into the IV line.
I felt better… Much better…
“Whatever that is, I’m gonna need some more,” I groaned, the words coming out sleepily.
“Black… The Kings…”
“Dead, down to the last. We lost some good boys. DJ, a few prospects, some of the men from up in the LA chapter.”
“DJ…”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember his face. It seemed like I could almost see him, almost… He’d be just another carving in the table, a piece of shattered wood. Broken…
“It’s over,” I whispered.
“Almost,” Black replied.
My eyes opened again, turning to the man who had stolen my heart. He looked up at the bed from one knee, a small ring held out in his extended hand.
“Be my old lady Kattlyn. I need you by my side because there’s nothing we can’t do together.”
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
The wedding sure as hell wasn’t what I was expecting. For starters, I wouldn’t have guessed everyone would be in a suit and tie. I’d been hidden away for hours getting primped up by Mina and Penny. Thigh high lacy heel boots hidden under a long slender white gown, a corset back and a delicate trail of satin, and a little surprise for Black, the brightest lacy sexy red panties known to mankind. When the music played, I about ruined my makeup with tears.
The clubhouse floor was covered in flowers, and the men lined either side of the aisle, flanking the petal strewn lane to Black. Each member stood at attention, a suit covering their tattoos and scars. Even Ash had shaved for the occasion. The only obvious link to the Rampant was their jackets. Worn over the suit, they almost looked comical, but I understood.
Once Rampant, always Rampant… It’s a point of honor I’d seen demonstrated.
Things had changed. The club was running fights through the boathouse and drugs had become a thing of the past… Jude said the cartel found someone a little more willing to move product through El Paso, and that we were safe.
I wasn’t sure what I believed, but I wanted this to be real.
I put my head down, the little pointed heels of my boots clicking on the concrete floor as I moved ever so slowly. Ash stepped out of line, taking my arm and moving me closer. My father refused to come, not that I ever expected him to. Ash would give me away.
The words flowed easily from the priest, an elderly man with strangely battered and tattooed hands. When it came time to profess my love, I couldn’t get the words out fast enough.
“I do…”
Black stared back, his own two words ready to be spoken.
“I do…”
To have and to hold, in sickness, in health, till death…
“Well what are you waiting for?” The priest asked, grinning at me. “Kiss the bastard.”
The men cheered riotously as we came together, our mouths delicately exploring. My lips captured one of his, tongue probing softly and fencing as time slipped away.
“Now somebody tell me where you’re keeping all the freshest pussy!” The priest shouted, making me laugh and shattering the kiss. The girls didn’t keep him waiting. Dozens of dancers and club girls streamed out as music kicked in and the beer started flowing. Black had managed to get one of the strip clubs up and operating during my recovery, and he was making use of the staff.
“Go get em boys!” I shouted, laughing as Acre got pulled away by Penny toward a more private corner. I knew full well what they’d be spending the night doing, and more to the point, I knew how I wanted to spend mine. I leapt up into Black’s arms, wrapping my boots round his waist, the long dress bunching at my waist. Leaning into his ear, I whispered softly. “Now that everybody’s distracted, you think you might be able to sneak me away and fuck me senseless?”
Black stared in my eyes, a grin waving across his face.
“I thought you’d never ask sweetheart. I thought you’d never ask…”
The smile on his face didn’t fade and it didn’t dim. He carried me off through the sea of club members toward the back. “I’m going to fuck you so God damned hard…”
“Take me…” I whispered, biting his ear as he carried me through the boardroom toward our bed.
“You’re already mine,” Black replied… “You’ll always be mine.”
As my world fell into pleasure, I realized that I hadn’t drawn another line across my skin since I’d woken up in that makeshift hospital room. I didn’t need to. I’d drawn enough pain into my skin… It was time to heal. Time to love. Time to live.
Black
accepted me for what I was. I loved him for it, and I always would…
Forever…
Ann Cheri is a mother, a wife, a reader, and a writer who finds solace and joy in a well-told story. Her books explore the dark and taboo worlds where love and pleasure intermingle with fear and pain. In other words, she writes about relationships, love, and sex. ;)
Ann is a dreamer who loves her coffee almost as much as her wine, but never at the same time. She was born naked and helpless, but has since overcame these weaknesses and rarely talks about herself in the third person.
Settle in, this might actually be a little long! As an independent author I live and die by the help of my friends and fellow authors, and I must thank them all for their help and assistance!
First, to my wonderful husband, thank you for giving me the chance to follow my dreams and write.
To all my beta readers who helped me get through all the rough patches, you made this possible.
To all my fellow authors who helped me with everything from cover design to the launch of this novel itself, you can never know how much your friendship has helped drive and inspire me.
To the bloggers and vloggers and viners and twitterers and facebookers who have helped me build the buzz for my first novel, you have my absolute gratitude. Your efforts have went beyond my wildest expectations.
And lastly, dear reader, thank you. You're the real reason I bleed over a keyboard five days a week. You've made my year just by reading this book, and your kind words, reviews, and e-mails all work to make me happier than I have ever been in this crazy world.
-Ann Cheri