by Franca Storm
She smiles and wraps her arms ‘round my neck, pulling me down to her. “So, teach me.”
Well, that were way easier than I figured it’d be. “Yeah?”
“Yep,” she says, grinning excitedly now. “Teach me, badass biker.”
I grab her hips and hoist her up in front of me. “Badass biker, huh?”
She giggles. “You heard me.”
I turn and press her against the wall. “You giving me shit, woman?”
She bites her lip. “Maybe.”
“Yeah?” I ask, adjusting her weight and freeing one hand. I trail it down to her pussy. “Gonna have to do something ‘bout that,” I growl at her as I slide a finger inside her.
She gasps and bucks against me. “Please do,” she challenges.
“Oh, I’m gonna.”
I pump in and out of her slowly and she throws her head back, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Mmm. Yes, Zeb.”
I lean into her and whisper in her ear. “That’s right, darlin’. Gonna give it to you nice and slow this time. Gonna take my time with you. You want that?”
She nods her head.
“Tell me how much,” I demand as I still my finger.
She whimpers. “Yes. Please, Zeb.”
“Mmm,” I breathe into her neck. “Good girl. Gonna give you everything, Sarah. Cuz you’re mine, darlin’. Gonna take good care of you. I love you.”
She nuzzles my neck. “I love you.”
Chapter 21
~Runner~
“No! Jase, don’t do this!” I find myself screaming rabidly.
I’ve lost my shit. The idea of him doing this to me after all these years and how hard I’ve worked…I can’t…I can’t stomach this. I can’t keep it together.
Jase ignores my freak out and steps closer. “How long’s it been exactly?”
“Too fucking long for you to do this to me now. You ain’t that sick, Jase. Don’t. Don’t fucking do this to me. I can’t—”
He grabs my chin, squeezing painfully. “You can’t what? Get clean again?” He smiles. “I don’t want you to. Wanna welcome you back into the life you ran from. The life you belong in. And this is the only way you’re gonna agree to it. You gotta need it. Gotta need the high. That’ll ensure your loyalty.”
I bolt up in bed. Fuck me.
I’m sweating buckets. I bring my hands to my head. They’re shaking uncontrollably. I clutch my head tightly, tryin’ to block it out.
But I can’t.
I keep seeing it.
I stop breathing for a few seconds as the horror of what’s happened hits me.
I look down to see the syringe buried in my arm. My eyes flick up to Jase and he’s smiling with victory and some demented pleasure at seeing the look on my face.
He pulls it out and tosses it on the ground.
“Gonna hit you any second now.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping like a dumbass that it’s gonna somehow make it stop. Like it’ll somehow cast all the memories out, drag ‘em outta the dark, messed up pit that’s my mind right now.
It ain’t just the memories. That ain’t what’s messing me up. Nah, it’s the feeling.
I remember exactly how it felt.
That goddamn high.
That’s what my body’s reacting to. The shaking. The sweating. The never-ending replay in my head of the moment Jase stuck me with that needle.
I can’t stand thinking ‘bout it. But the bitch of it is, it won’t let me forget. It’s clawing at me, tryin’ to drive its way into my brain. Willing me to remember.
And worst of all?
It’s willing me to want it.
And it’s winning.
I do want it.
“Fuck this,” I mutter under my breath.
I ease myself outta bed and start pacing up and down erratically, tryin’ to get a handle on my shit.
I eye Sarah. She’s naked in my bed, sleeping on her front. She looks so peaceful. Part of me wants to wake her and try and talk to her ‘bout this. Being with her is the only thing that’s been able to get my mind off it. But…no…I can’t wake her over this. It’s too dark and dirty. It ain’t for her.
I gotta get a handle on it on my own.
I blow out a breath and start scrambling ‘round on the bedroom floor looking for my clothes. I know what I gotta do.
I gotta dull it.
***
I bring the half-empty bottle of scotch to my lips.
“Argh!” I growl, getting frustrated with my hands shaking. It’s a bitch tryin’ to bring the bottle to my mouth every time I wanna take a swig. It’s even worse with the smoke in my other hand, too.
It’s pitch black where I’m sitting on the steps of the clubhouse, looking out into our courtyard full of bikes. A nasty ice-cold wind’s whipping through the area, giving me a chill cuz I’m just out in my jeans and black beater. But at the same time, sweat’s dripping down my face. Seriously?
Too frustrated, even though I ain’t nearly numb enough, I put the bottle down beside me and then stub out my smoke.
I rest my face in my hands.
I can’t do this.
I know what this is.
It’s the drugs taking hold.
After all this time, it’s taking me over again. I can’t stop it. It just keeps burrowing into me, forcing me to stand up and take notice. To look it in the eyes.
My every waking moment it’s getting worse.
All I can think ‘bout is that high.
Wanting that high. Needing to taste it again.
“Fuck!” I roar, grabbing the bottle and smashing it on the concrete. The neck snaps. Glass and booze sprays over the side of the steps.
“Hey, brother.”
Shit. I didn’t even hear nobody come outta the clubhouse. I turn to see one of our prospects, Ben, standing in the doorway.
Kid’s barely twenty. Always dresses like a rocker. He has long, black hair down his back and he’s always got some kinda bandana tied ‘round it. He don’t wear leathers. Always ripped jeans. He’s standing there folding his arms across some way-too-tight tank top that’s got a ton of gold chains hanging from it. Kid’s arms are all tatted up, too. Guy’s been a prospect for the last nine months and from his first day he’s been an arrogant little shit. He pissed Ax off. But Mullet pushed for him. He knows his old man, or something. I don’t really got a problem with him. That’s probably cuz he’s a wild partier. Him and me got along real well with all that, acting as each other’s wingmen. My two best guys weren’t available. Ax is married and Smiter’s hung up on Halle. But I’m done with all that now.
“Ain’t in the mood for no talkin’,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I get that. Just heard the noise. Knew you were out here. Just came to make sure you’re all right.”
I blow out a breath and struggle to my feet. That’s when I feel the full effects of the scotch I downed. I grab the wall for support. “I’m fine,” I grunt at him. “Go back to doing whatever.”
“Weren’t doing much. No bitches ‘round, cuz of the lockdown. Only one here is your girl and I’m guessing you ain’t up for sharing.”
My eyes narrow. “Watch it, kid.”
“Just saying, Runner. You’ve shared in the past. Help a brother out?”
Is this kid fucking serious? I take a step closer to him and growl, “You got a death wish?”
He steps back real quick and holds up his hands. Yeah, he knows my rep. Anybody I go up against, I take down hard.
“Sorry, I just thought—”
“Don’t care what you thought. Sarah’s mine. My Old Lady. That clear enough for you? Nobody touches her, but me. Hell, nobody looks her way, but me. You hear me?”
He nods.
“Say it!”
“Yeah. Yeah, man. I’m sorry.”
“Just get outta here. Go crash, jerk it, or whatever the hell.”
As I turn away, he calls out, “Wait. Didn’t just come out here to check on you. Came out here to help you.”
“What?” I snap, turning back ‘round. I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him. “Ain’t nobody got the power to do that.”
He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and steps forward. He holds out his hand, palm up. There’s a key on it.
A special kinda key. The kind that belongs to a lock that only Ax—former professional thief—has got the skill to pick.
The key to the medical room. It’s where all the drugs are at. Not illegal shit. Painkillers.
Even though we’re legit now and we don’t got to deal with a hell of a lot of illegal injuries no more—gunshot wounds, stab wounds—a bunch of the boys do got criminal records, so they can’t be going to the hospital for medical stuff. So, we take care of it here. We got a doc we bring in and pay off when we got serious situations. We don’t take none of the boys into a hospital unless it’s beyond the doc’s abilities. Last time were when Ax and Rox had that real bad car accident a couple of years back.
Anyhow, that means we got a lot of supplies here. Ax keeps it locked up tight, cuz a lot of ‘em meds are expensive and he don’t want none of the boys wasting ‘em. We all gotta ask if we need something. The key floats between all the boys. Everyone takes turns monitoring it.
Except me.
I ain’t never allowed that key.
Cuz of the drugs in there. Even though it’s been two decades, Ax don’t want me near none of it. And I get that. He’s just keeping it outta my way as a precaution, to help me more than anything else.
But now…now this kid’s offering it all up to me on a silver platter.
And I’m so messed up right now that I ain’t saying “no” right off the bat. I’m hesitating.
“I know what happened to you. Figured something in there could help take the edge off.”
“Why?”
“You’re my brother. You been good to me. We had some good times and good pussy. You done me favors. This is me doing you one.”
I’m talking to him, but my eyes are on the key. Right there for the taking. All I gotta do is reach out and grab it.
Talk ‘bout temptation staring me right in the face.
Thoughts of Sarah come to me outta the blue, as I stare at the thing.
That promise I made her upstairs plays in my head.
“Gonna give you everything, Sarah. Cuz you’re mine, darlin’. Gonna take good care of you. I love you.”
“I love you.”
And those three words from her that keep shaking me to my core every time they come outta her mouth.
Nah. I can’t do this.
It’s gonna screw up things with Sarah if I take the leap here. It ain’t just taking a key, it’s setting off down a bad road. I can’t.
I take a step back and shake my head at Ben. “Nah. Keep it.”
He steps closer and presses, “You sure?”
What the hell? Why’s he pushing it?
Before I get the chance to ask, Ax comes barrelling outside.
Ben closes his hand quickly and I see him stuff the key back inside his jeans.
Ax looks like he’s on some kinda mission, but he stops short in surprise when he notices the two of us standing ‘bout.
“Everything all right?” I ask him.
“Will be if I get my ass home in the next twenty minutes.”
“When were Rox expecting you back?”
He grimaces. “‘Bout two hours ago.”
“Shit,” Ben says, choking out a laugh.
Ax glares at him.
“My bad,” the kid says, holding up his hands.
Dumbass. Can’t talk to Prez that way when he’s only a prospect.
Ax looks back at me. “You doing okay?”
“Fine. Yeah.”
His eyes dart behind me at the step where there’s glass and scotch all over the place. I see the concern in his eyes and I hate it. I gotta stop it before he launches into one of his speeches ‘bout me going to therapy and addiction meets.
“Need you to lift my lockdown, Ax.”
His eyes narrow. “No.”
“I just need to ride. Being stuck here ain’t helping me. I gotta clear my head and there ain’t no better way to do that than riding. You know that. Can’t tell me it ain’t true, Ax.”
He shifts his weight and scrubs his hand over his face. “Runner, I—”
“One day. Or a few hours. Just something.”
“Fine. A few hours, but you don’t ride alone.”
“What? Don’t need a goddamn babysitter.”
“Yeah, you fucking do.”
“I’ll do it,” Ben offers, real quick. What the hell? Does this kid have some sorta hard-on for me, or something? I don’t want no protégé. I’ll save that kinda shit for when I have a son. What? A son? Why am I thinking ‘bout my own kids now? What the hell is happening?
“Runner!” Ax yells at me.
Shit. I must’ve tuned out for a bit. I shake my head and eye him. “Yeah, sorry. What?”
“Ben’s gonna go with you. You check in every hour. I’m gonna give you a curfew, too. You follow all that and you’re good to go. You feel me?”
Jesus Christ. “Yeah. I feel you. Agreed.” What other choice is there?
“Good,” he says, nodding. “Now, I gotta get home to my wife and kid.”
“Give ‘em my love, yeah?”
He smiles. “Always, brother. Later.”
“Later and thanks, Ax.”
“Yeah,” he says, before turning and heading across the courtyard to his bike.
“So, where you wanna head out to when we ride?” Ben asks me.
“Dunno.” Truth is, I don’t care. Just wanna ride. Don’t matter where to.
Chapter 22
~Sarah~
I thrust my fist into the punching bag. Argh! Just like the last four times, it has absolutely no impact. No dent. Nothing. Well, at least it’s helping me to get my frustrations out through being physical. Physically violent. Who knew I had that in me? Usually I’m a very calm person.
But with everything that’s happened lately, I guess it has changed something in me.
I’d thought that the awful helpless and powerless feeling I’d experienced during my time with my asshole ex, Eddie, had been firmly entrenched in the past. I’d been living my own way and on my own terms for years and I hadn’t felt that way in all that time.
Until that night he’d walked back into my life, into my diner.
The moment that’d happened, it’d seemed as if those feelings had never really left me. I’d felt helpless again and powerless against him. Weak and submissive.
Him coming into my home and attacking me had been such a huge violation. It’d really shaken me up. But I had managed to rally some power. I’d stabbed him. I’d stopped him. In that moment, something had shifted in me.
It was Zeb. His influence over me. I don’t know how, but he just somehow brings out this fire in me. He sparks a no-nonsense attitude within me. For goodness sake, in my attempt to protect him at the safe house, I had a gun in my hand! Me. I fired a gun and then pistol-whipped my ex with it. The past version of me—the girl from a few years ago—would never have even considered doing something like that. It’s become clear to me that the scared little girl from before is now a stranger to this new me.
But now I need to learn how to use this new fiery conviction.
Now I have the strength to stand up and refuse to be bullied. To refuse to take that abuse. Now I have that, I just need the know-how. That was made clear to me that night at the safe house when I didn’t have the means to protect Zeb, to fight with him.
Maybe if I had…no…I can’t go there.
Oh God. He’s in so much pain.
He let me in during our garage confrontation and the extremely intense sex that’d followed.
But since then he’s just shut down again. He’s had a smile on his face, but I know it hasn’t been real. He’s been faking that he’s okay.
I think I know why.
He
thinks I’m too much of a good girl to be able to deal with the dark aspects of his world. He’s clearly failed to recall what I’d told him about what I’ve been through with my ex. The things he put me through were as dark as could be. Sure, Zeb’s issues with narcotics are a different type of darkness, but it’s still a similar sort of thing. I know how it is to feel trapped in the dark with no hope. Just pain and more pain. I can help him.
I’d planned to talk to him today, but I’d woken up to find him gone and a note on my pillow. It’d read: Gone riding. Be back later. Love you. Zeb.
He hadn’t even bothered to wake me up to say goodbye.
Argh!
I thrust my fist into the punching bag again.
“Gotta put your weight into it.”
I gasp in surprise and my gaze snaps to the door.
Ax is standing there, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded across his chest in that intimidating, no-nonsense pose of his that always makes me nervous.
“I…what?”
He steps into the room and approaches me. “Back up,” he says.
I step back as he asks, because no one argues with the President of Black Thorns. Ax is a scary man.
He takes my place in front of the bag. I watch him shift his weight so that he’s forming what looks like some sort of boxing fighting stance.
And then he takes a shot at the bag.
Holy hell!
His fist almost plunges right through it.
“You see that?” he asks, turning to me. “See how I turned into it? A woman like you who don’t got the weight and muscle on her like I got, needs that a lot more than I do. You feel me?”
Yeah, I see what he’s saying. “Yep,” I manage to eke out with a nod. God, I hate how nervous he makes me.
He chuckles. “You don’t gotta be scared of me, Sarah.”
“I…I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault, cuz I ain’t exactly been that welcoming to you. I’m sorry. Weren’t ‘bout you. Been ‘bout the trouble that’s come to Thorns, cuz of Torvin and Jase. The club was finally at peace and then all of that came right to our doorstep. Same time you did. Guess I couldn’t separate it.” He smiles and adds, “Can now, though. All right?”