Claiming His Forever (Battle Born MC Book 8)

by Scarlett Black

  I begin parting and pinning her hair into sections while I tell her the story. “You remember when I went to Reno a few days back, to give Blade a tattoo for his and Vegas’s wedding? Well, I kinda met someone. We had a great night. But the man is a real cold dickhead. Even though it seemed he treated me like just another club girl, it was different. The balance felt off. It was more and I just can’t get him out of my mind. I run it over and over, trying to piece together why I feel that way, and I can’t pinpoint what it was. It just was intense and satisfying. His every touch was calculated and controlling. Spider made me believe in desire .” I give her all the details of the events that night after I finished Blade’s tattoo. Never did I imagine falling into his desires so willingly, but I could not stop myself from what was happening. Captured and entranced is what I was.

  But then… “After he finished, he told me to leave. One moment, it's this crazy spark of lust and need. Then, he shuts down. I could see it in his face, it was over, our time was chilled. I got dressed as fast as I could and got out of there. It was late, so I couldn’t drive all the way home. Vegas left for her honeymoon. The girls there had all kinds of things going on, so I couldn’t crash at their places. I stayed in a cheap motel for a few hours, and once the sun hit the horizon, I booked it back to California.”

  Angie grins. “So, inquiring minds need to know two things. Is that where your hickey came from? Also, what does this sex god look like?” She hands me a foil and I place it, trying to avoid her gaze and apply dye to her hair. I folded the foil in half before tucking the sides in.

  “Yes. That would be from Spider. My makeup doesn't cover it well enough.” Separating her hair, I lay another piece on the foil and begin to brush more blonde on the ends. “Angie, girl. Talking about it is like torture, but he has these dark brown eyes. So deep and captivating they are black. The best part was his trim body. He has those defined muscles, just enough.” A shiver rolls through my body. As if my body could forget that night.

  “I can spot a cover-up a mile away. Shit, I may change my mind and go for a biker. He sounds hot as hell. What about Kilo? I know you guys are open, but you haven’t been with other men, especially someone in the MC. Are you going for Spider?” Angie has every right to be concerned. It could all go up in flames if I mess this up.

  Sighing, I think of the best way to answer her question. “I haven't slept with Kilo in two to three months. I’ve been hoping he moved on. I think this was me telling myself it’s really over.” Kilo and our so-called relationship has been a complicated mess for a long time. Years ago, I caught him sleeping with a club bitch and I ended the relationship. Almost a year after that, after a drunken night at a club party, we slept together. I thought we could keep it casual. In the end, I let him be someone to scratch an itch when I needed it. I figured it couldn’t hurt since I knew what I was walking into and I didn’t want another relationship with him. By that time, I gave in to the fact that love doesn’t exist.

  “The other night was different, Ange. The connection was electric with Spider, a totally different flavor and level. You think you’ve tried them all before and then, bam, dark chocolate comes along and surprises the hell out of you, shakes you up and your mind awakens after a deep sleep. I’m not saying Spider is my end game, but maybe he and I could explore greater possibilities than just our bodies.”

  “Honey…” she starts and stops for a brief moment. “Does Kilo know any of this?” Angie has hated him for the longest time. She cheered when we split and hummed when she saw us together again.

  “Um, no. Why would I tell him? We aren’t exclusive to each other.”

  “Okay, sure. You don’t date. Because let's face it, you don’t want a relationship. He gets to have you when he wants you. He sees you as his main woman among all the side flavors.” Her hands swing wide through the air. “As you so nicely described it. I don’t see him just being a big boy and walking away. Even when you were split for a while, he constantly had eyes on you.”

  For a few minutes, I think over her words. Was I so complacent with life and him that I didn’t notice those things? “Maybe it’s time to let it go. This really was what I needed to see that there are other guys and possibilities out there. I’m not wanting a steady relationship. I could do with some more hot sex though. Because, girl, I still have him on my mind.”

  Angie chuckles, “I hope I get to meet this grumpy sex master one day.” We spend the rest of the night catching up on her life before she leaves. Even though I work really hard to remove Spider from my mind, I can’t. Pieces of me are caught in a web he spun around me. Deep down, I realize that going near him would be dabbling in the dark. I’ve been down that road with Kilo, gave him everything, only to be burnt in the end. I don’t believe in love, just great friendships. At least for me, it feels safer than trusting a man again.

  Exhausted from working the morning shift at the salon, then a late afternoon at the tattoo shop, I’m ready to fall on my face. Both jobs have their advantages and keep me busy. One day, my dream is to have my own tattoo shop. I have a chair in both establishments and work both part-time because it keeps my appointments full with a steady income. Either one could slow down at any time.

  Slamming the door of my black Corvette, I turn and walk face first into a chest of muscle. I know this body like the back of my hand. “Jesus, Kilo, why do you have to sneak up on me like this?”

  “Where have you been?” His voice is low and irritated.

  My mind races and Angie’s words about my hickey echoes loudly as a warning to hide it. I pull out my hair tie from the messy bun I had it in and massage my scalp. The dim streets working in my favor, I pull my hair around to one side. Sliding past him, I walk toward the steps leading to my apartment. “Working. When did we start keeping track of each other?” I throw over my shoulder. Placing the key in the entryway door, his hand grips mine with a tight squeeze, stopping me from turning it.

  “Since when do you not answer me to meet up?” The heat from him standing so close behind me radiates into my back. And the second time in my life, my body tells me he’s not the one.

  “Can we not do this in the street, where my neighbors can hear you?” I hiss at him. His latest woman must have split and he’s looking for a hard fuck. God knows, these guys like it rough, and most women can’t handle their intensity or lifestyle.

  His hand releases mine and he follows me up to my apartment. Inside, I toss my bag and keys onto the kitchen table and open the refrigerator door. Strong, muscular, tattooed arms wrap around my middle. “I’m sorry, Jazz. I was worried about you. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you.”

  He’s curious to find out if I have been with someone. It’s not like me to not respond at all and now he’s knocking on my door for answers. As long as we hook up at his will, he doesn’t pay attention to me. Never have I been with anyone else, and the mark on my neck... I’d gone radio silent and couldn’t text him back. I’ve changed, and I needed time to figure out where my head and heart are at.

  Kilo is bald and covered head-to-toe with tattoos, a biker girl’s thirst trap. The history between us has kept us connected. He was one of the first who let me put needle to skin. I’ve done all of his tattoos. Even though we have fought, and even through the bad times, Kilo has always been my friend. If I needed something, anything, he would give it to me. Other than devoting himself completely. Life and love is so complicated. Over the years, the familiarity grew into a comfortable routine. The men in this life are dangerous, possessive, and passionate by nature. They fight and love hard. It’s hard to see the cycle when you're caught up in it. Picking one is picking your poison. “Thank you for caring. I’m tired and had a long day. If you pick a fight with me, we’re going to have a blowout. I’d rather not.”

  He chuckles and his chest bounces. Tapping his arm, I signal for him to let me go. He plants a quick kiss to the side of my head. “Alright, bella, beautiful girl.”

  Pulling out two beers, I hand him one and
the doorbell rings. My eyebrows hit my hairline. “You expecting company?”

  “Takeout.” He grins like he does when he knows he got away with something, which is often with this man. Kilo gets the food and meets me on the couch, passing me my favorite Chinese dish. We eat together in silence until I’m stuffed and sleepy. Kilo sets his food down and begins to crawl over me. I get that we have a “no attachments” and a sex-on-demand relationship, but this is not working for me anymore.

  His face hovers above mine and I see hunger in his brown eyes. Kilo doesn’t see the same in mine. My hand is pressed to his chest and stops him from coming closer. “I think we need to end this. Whatever it was is over.”

  His jaw muscles clench and his head snaps back like I slapped him. Gone is the easygoing lover from minutes ago. The dangerous killer looms over me now. “If I walk out that door, I won’t come back to your puta ass.” He pulls my hair back painfully, the sting a stark reminder of the other man in this room. No one, not a man or woman, tells Kilo no. “You think that because you work, you’re too good for me now? Who’s been there to help you, pinche cabrona?” Kilo’s face is centimeters from mine. Did he just call me a pinche cabrona, a stupid bitch? I want to go to war and tell this asshole off, but his temperament has felt different since he arrived here. I tamp down my reaction. An awareness of fear demands I tread carefully.

  Carefully, I rub his shoulder to settle the beast. “I know you have, Kilo. I need things that you can’t give me. I can’t ask you to change. That wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m tired. Can we talk about this later?” I hold back every tremor that shoots through my spine. Never had I been afraid of him—until today. Because I had been brushing him off, this was coming. I knew he had this side to him, I just didn’t know how ugly he could be toward me. The years have changed the young man I knew into this one. He’s cold and calculating… evil.

  Kilo’s fingers dig into my jaw as he holds me in place. “Figure your shit out, because the next time I come back, you owe me.” His meaning is very clear—I owe him my body, to dedicate my life to being his puta, or whore. Unless I can figure out a way to get him to think it was his idea, he will never let me go. The whole year we were apart, he let me have it because Kilo plays the long game, and I should have seen it. He pushes himself up from the couch, storming out, and slamming the door shut behind him. The walls rattle from the force.

  Since my last trip to Reno, it has become very apparent my life needs a drastic change. Spider awoken my mind and challenged me to see and feel things differently. I slept with him because my body was starving. My soul was yearning for a deep connection and he effortlessly tapped into it. How long have I been ignoring the basic instincts of my needs and who I really am?

  Does Kilo know about Spider? More likely, my brush-off of him and his texts was a red flag. He’s losing control of me. Kilo has used and abused my affection for a long time. I’ll admit my part and say he was an easy choice. Kilo was comfortable and I could push him away when I needed to. Fuck, all of this and men say women are complicated. This is a huge red flag, if I ever witnessed one. It’s time to move on. Picking up my cell phone, I call the only person who can help me. “Snake, I need your help.”

  Chapter 3

  Spider

  Rolling out of bed, I answer the ringing phone. “Yeah?” My voice cracks and I clear my throat.

  “It’s Blade. I need you to run over to help Fuego solve some issues he’s got.” I run one hand over my face to wake up. The club has me running around in circles, putting out fires left and right.

  “When?”

  “You’re up now.” Blade hangs up the phone, like the ass he is.

  “Fuck,” I cuss out loud to no one but myself. Tossing my phone to the bed, I get up. Dreading the long day ahead of me, I take my time getting ready.

  Within a few hours, I am on my bike and headed west over the mountains to Sacramento, California. The drive is what bikers salivate for. Not me, and not fucking today. I resent the sun and the fucking minivans full of kids on the freeway. Mom’s doing a double take that just irritates me further. One little bastard flips me off from his seat as I pass. It crosses my mind to pull my gun on the little shit just to make him piss his pants. Instead, I accelerate and race against time.

  Pulling into the Sacramento Chapter of the Battle Born MC, I pop the kickstand and rest my bike on its side. I stand and my muscles stretch. Before going in, I light a smoke and take in the surroundings of the club. There is a young prospect in the garage, and I do a double take. Shit, my heart pounds with disbelief. He resembles my younger brother and I have to shake my head. I can’t go there, so I turn away, reminding myself it's not him. It would be impossible.

  Taking a long, hard drag, I try to focus on anything else to get back on track with where I am. Looking over the parking lot, there are some members I know and some I don’t, not that I care to make small talk with these assholes anyway. Tossing my smoke down, I step on it and walk inside to find the Prez, Fuego. I remember well enough where his office is. Raising my fist, I exhale and pound on the door halfheartedly.

  A muffled reply alerts me to open the door. Walking in, I find Snake speaking with his father. Taking a seat next to him, I look at them both. “What’s going on?”

  Fuego spends the next hour giving me the details of the problems they are having. We discuss what I can do to help. Relief floods me that it isn’t a huge problem. Sooner rather than later, I can get the work done and I can get home. Snake gets up and excuses himself. “I need to go meet with Jazzy. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  That name. I know he’s her cousin, but still, her name takes me back to the night I had her naked and vulnerable. Mine. Curious as to why he’s meeting with her, I invite myself along. “I’ll ride with you. Don’t have much to do until tonight.” I could start now, but he doesn’t need to know shit.

  Snake gives me a puzzled look but keeps his smart-ass comments to himself. Not too far from the clubhouse, we roll up to a salon. I’m about to ask Snake what the hell we are doing when she walks out.

  Jazzy changed her hair color from the last time I saw her. It’s still dark black but has a deep red color on the ends. She doesn’t flinch when she recognizes me. She takes a helmet from Snake’s saddle bag and swings a leg over the back of his bike. He backs out of the parking spot. With her. On his bike. Possessive rage infuriates me that she’s on his bike. Yeah, Snake is her family, but you don’t ride with just anyone. It grates on my nerves, but I can’t do shit about it. Unless I lay a claim to her. I can say I never pictured a woman on the back of my bike and I never had one ride with me, so this new desire to take her and make it clear she belongs to me has me reeling and I push the crazy feelings away. I’ve shared women in the club. Is it that she didn’t jump on my bike first? These are questions I don’t want to explore, because the truth is, she may not want the same. To prevent myself from spiraling down this dark road, I look at what's in front of me… literally.

  Following behind, I have a perfect view of her body, every curve of her legs and ass on display. The picture is burned into my head—her and me on my bike. Each mile adds to my bad mood, locking me in tighter and tighter. I can’t remember the last time I actually had the time to think about her or the strange desire to take her for myself. Shaking off the thoughts, I focus on the road. We park in front of a worn brick building.

  Jazzy stands with her arms wide. “My tattoo shop, or someday,” she announces proudly. Her focus stays on Snake. I’m the unwelcome guest who came along. Pulling back, I observe Jazz in her element. To her credit, she watches me out of the corner of her eye periodically. “I bought the store. I’m still earning enough to one day open the shop. Piece by piece, it’s coming together.”

  “Jazz,” Snake interrupts her, “why am I here?”

  I agree, why is he here? She clears her throat and takes a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t ask for help. But this time, I need it. I can’t do the construction work myself. Con
tractors cost way too much money.”

  “You know I’ll help. Kilo can help too. I’ll ask him.”

  Her hands dart up and panic causes her to momentarily forget I am there. “No,” she rapidly spits out, “you and me only.”

  Snake holds his thoughts and nods at her, a conversation they will have later. Who the fuck is Kilo, and what does he have to do with her? There is only one way to get the truth and that is to find it myself.

  Jazzy looks over her shoulder at me for a split second before turning back to her cousin. She can’t say why he’s really here. Across the street is a deli, so I announce, “I’m going across the street to get a sandwich. Let me know when you’re ready, Snake.” I could get them a sandwich, but fuck her and this asshole, Kilo. Did she fuck me when she had man at home? Why the hell doesn’t she go to him for help? More questions start to pile up and I realize my time here may take a little longer than planned.

  Neither one pays any attention to my outburst, and I find a seat at the window after I order a sandwich and a Coke. My mind spins with scenarios of what the story could be. There’s truth to be revealed, but once I uncover it, do I want to open that door? Some things are best left alone, and even though my gut says to keep digging, my brain says to run. Bitches are all the same anyway—screw a man behind his back whenever they have a chance. What did I expect?

  Jazzy and Snake take their time inside the building. I decide I have better shit to do with my time and get back on my bike and leave for the clubhouse.

  Jazzy

  Shit. I cannot believe that Snake brought Spider with him. My cousin, for as smart as he is, can be dumb ass. When I saw Spider, I couldn’t believe he was standing before me. Lust struck me like a tornado. Him on his bike, with his shades on, was picture perfect. I imagined what it would be like to wrap myself around him. Somehow, I managed to get on with Snake, but that doesn’t mean the thoughts went away.