“Fuck, yeah,” Smiter grunts, his fingers digging into my hips, as he holds me firmly to the base of his cock, while I come apart around him with violent spasm after spasm.
“Oh, shit,” I gasp.
“We ain’t done yet, Hal.”
It’s always shocking to me just how much self-control he possesses. I’ve never been with any man who can hold off his own pleasure as long as Smiter can. He’s like a machine. Sex is a marathon to him, not a quick sprint towards the finish line.
He adjusts his grip on my hips.
And then he begins jackhammering into me.
I tug at my hair and scream like a wild animal as another orgasm tears through me. There’s nothing better than when Smiter deals out a hard fucking. Holy hell!
His pace slows and my eyes snap open just as he leans forward and bites my nipple. “Ah! Yes!” I shriek, hitting another level of ecstasy, my climax going on and on, climbing, instead of ebbing.
“That’s my girl,” he says.
I feel one of his hands leave my hips. The next thing I know, his finger is sliding into my ass. “One more, sweetheart,” he tells me. His thick digit stabs rapid and deep, his cock taking on the same rhythm, driving me out of my mind.
“My dirty girl loves having her ass filled. Ain’t that right?”
I can’t speak, I’m basically delirious with pleasure. But he sees the confirmation in my eyes and grins.
“Flood my cock, sweetheart. Gonna mark you with my cum.”
“Yes!”
He smirks and twists his finger deep in my ass.
It’s the last straw and I shatter completely.
“Fuck!” I hear Smiter roar, finally joining me, jerking beneath me as he comes violently.
I collapse on top of him, making him grunt at the jarring impact. I can’t help it. I’m beyond spent.
“Intense,” I gasp out against his chest.
His arms come around me and he squeezes me tightly to him. “Hell, yeah,” he chuckles. “The way we’re always gonna roll, Hal.”
Chapter 25
~Smiter~
I watch Halle slowly open her deep-blue eyes.
Damn, she’s a knockout. I ain’t never gonna get used to it.
“Hey,” she says, beaming at me, her voice all hoarse with sleep. Could also be the screaming she did earlier. “How long have I been asleep?” she asks, looking ˈround at the dark room.
“Couple hours,” I tell her, reaching out and stroking her silky hair. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”
She takes in the sight of me sitting up rigid against the headboard.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” Her eyes go wide, and I hate the fear I see in ˈem. She bolts upright. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? Oh my God. What is it? Is everyone okay?”
“Just relax. Nothing’s gone down.” I kiss the top of her head. “Just can’t sleep. Got stuff on my mind.”
She shifts in my arms to get a look at me. “This is about more than the club taking a hit, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“It’s who hit it.”
“Hal—”
“There’s no one else who could affect you like this. It was him, wasn’t it? Frank Newman.”
What she’s asking is club business. Things non-members ain’t meant to know. Even if I’d already made an official claim on her as my Old Lady, I wouldn’t be telling her ˈbout club business. Ax keeps Rox in the know, but she’s always been the exception, cuz of her background and who she was when he met her. I ain’t gonna be doing that. I don’t wanna put that on no woman of mine.
This situation, what’s gone down here ain’t normal, though. Hal was right in the thick of it. She’s at our safehouse, for fuck’s sakes. I damn well owe her some sorta explanation.
“Yeah. It was him,” I confirm.
“He’s a true monster,” she says.
“You ain’t gotta worry ˈbout him. He ain’t gonna be doing no more damage.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, pulling away and tugging the sheet up to cover her naked body.
“It’s gonna get sorted.”
She frowns. “You mean, you’re going to kill him?”
“He’s gonna be dealt with,” I admit. “But the way Ax is talking, it ain’t gonna be by my hand.”
She shifts in the bed, her eyes wide. “Ax is going to kill him then?”
Hearing the words out loud is like a kick in the junk. I scrub my hand over my face. “Fuck,” I mutter. I can’t believe this is happening. We’re meant to be at peace. If it ain’t enough that we just took a major hit, now Prez is gunnin’ for the motherfucker responsible. It’s gonna pull us back into the brutal, old days of Thorns. And, this time, I can’t see how we’re gonna claw our way back outta it.
Hal lays her hand on my shoulder. “He won’t do it. It’ll be okay, Smiter. He’s just angry. He’ll calm down. Besides, Rox won’t let him do something like that. They have a toddler now. He knows he can’t be doing something that irresponsibly dangerous and illegal.”
Hell, maybe she’s right. “Gotta hope that’s the case.”
She grasps my hands, drawing my gaze to hers. “Are you worried about what it’ll do to Ax and the club if he is the one who ends up killing Frankie? Or, are you worried about what it’ll do to you, if you’re not the one to do it?”
Damn. Her question’s one I been avoiding asking myself. Ax’s words to me earlier, before all this went down, are still haunting me, too.
Chasing peace the way you are ain’t gonna bring you it, brother.
I thought I was finally moving past it all. Mia. Frankie. But, what more is it gonna take to put it to bed, once and for all?
“I dunno, sweetheart.”
She squeezes my hands. “I know you’re trying to move forward. You told me about the cemetery, and I’ve seen the change in you for myself. We made promises to each other last night. We’re going to build a future together. Frankie is the last weight holding you down. So, if you really think taking him out is what you need to do to finally be free of the past, do it. Find a way to make it happen.”
“What?” I choke out. Did she really say that? Endorse me murdering somebody? I ain’t good with that. Don’t want her getting pulled into that kinda dark, cuz of my issues.
“I love you,” she says. “I want you to be at peace, so if that’s the only way to achieve it, so be it.”
“Hal, I—”
A loud thumping on the door has me swallowing my words. “What?” I call out.
It bursts open. Runner, Grit and Dealer barge on in. For real?
I react quick, moving in front of Hal to hide her from their eyes. Yeah, she’s got a sheet held to her, but I don’t want nobody seeing my woman in all her recently-fucked glory. That’s just for me.
“You hear me give the word to come bursting in here?” I snap at ˈem.
“We gotta talk,” Grit says, the look in his eyes real unsettling.
“Halle,” Runner says, eyeing her behind me.
She shifts forward, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Boys,” she responds, with a curious smile.
“Sweetheart,” I chide her. I’m tryinˈ to keep her hidden and, here she is, engaging with ˈem?
She giggles and whispers, “Chivalrous caveman.” She licks my earlobe, catching me off guard. Probably tryinˈ to help me keep my cool, cuz she knows I get worked up when it comes to her. And, damn, it works. Too well. My cock reacts.
“Come on,” Dealer gripes, looking away. “Way too early to be seeing that. Put some fucking clothes on, will you?”
Grit rolls his eyes.
Runner frowns. “Too early? Lost your stamina, old man? That it?”
Dealer glares at him. “Was that you asking for a beatdown, smartass?”
“All right,” Grit says, holding up a hand. “Take it down.”
They’re all worked up. I don’t waste no more time. I give Hal a quick kiss, then push off the bed, heading for my chest of drawers. “What’s
so urgent?” We already agreed to take a night with our loved ones, then go to work the next morning on sorting things. So, what’s up with this?
As I pull on a fresh pair of boxers and jeans, I look over my shoulder at Grit. “Well?”
“Ax,” he answers. “We gotta talk ˈbout Ax.”
I pull on a t-shirt. “You asking me to stop him? To put him down?”
I ain’t even sure I could do it. Ax is a big guy, like me. But when he’s in a temper, he’s like an unstoppable machine.
Runner chokes out a laugh. “No disrespect, brother, but I don’t see that ever going down.”
Dealer’s eyes flick to Halle and he takes a beat, tryinˈ to figure out how to say shit with her in the room, somebody who ain’t cleared to hear club business. He nods to himself, then looks to me. “Doing what he threatened is gonna have him losing everything. He don’t do that for a reason. Don’t… agree with him. You guys can’t lose your Prez. And, I don’t want my daughter losing her husband to that kinda mind-fuck neither.” He shifts his weight. “So, we gotta talk ˈbout you and Frankie.”
They want me to put him to ground?
I ain’t sure how it sits with me. I’m still knocked for six at Halle endorsing it.
“Smiter! Let’s go, yeah?” Dealer urges.
I swallow down all the shit running through my head and nod. “Be back soon. Get some rest, sweetheart,” I tell Halle, over my shoulder, as I head out with the boys.
***
~Halle~
I grimace as the door shuts behind Smiter and the guys.
This really doesn’t bode well.
Not for him. Not for us.
Their coded talk didn’t fool me. It’s obvious they want Smiter to take down Frankie.
And I get it. Smiter isn’t high-profile like Ax is being club president. He flies beneath the radar. But he’s not actually a ghost, like Rox’s father, Dealer, who I’ve heard is still believed to be dead. Also, he was caught on the news not long ago, attacking the very person they now want him to take out. How do they expect it not to come back on him?
The only way would be—no! No, they wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.
They want to make him a ghost?
Would he really agree to that? To disappear forever? Go off the grid? Leave his club behind? Us? After everything we said to one another last night, all the promises we made, would he actually do that?
And what about the mental ramifications of killing that son of a bitch? Ax clearly has issues with taking a life these days. But, what about Smiter? I can’t imagine it not taking a major toll on him.
He has so much to lose by doing this.
I told him to do what he thought he needed to, in order to finally find peace. I assumed he would realize he could only achieve that from within. Not by killing Frankie. I figured hearing it spoken aloud, by me, would be the kick in the ass he needed to finally understand that finding the peace he’s been craving is all down to him, not any external crap, not by fulfilling some long-standing vengeance crusade. I’m really worried that he didn’t get that.
Fucking hell. Will he actually go ahead with this?
No. I won’t let him. I won’t let this happen.
I’m not going to let the man I love lose everything he’s worked so hard to build.
I have to do something.
I have to stop this.
Chapter 26
~Smiter~
“Never thought we’d be back here,” Ax grunts.
“I know, brother.”
“Desperate times,” he murmurs.
The both of us take in the fallen compound just beyond the chain-link fence. The place is condemned, completely unsalvageable.
What had once been a tough, concrete monster is now a mess of ruins.
The former home of the Devil’s Mavericks MC.
Couldn’t believe it when Ax chose this place for the meet. Being back here’s gotta be cutting into him. Load of painful memories. His psycho old man ran the club. Got crazier as the years went on. It had the feud between him and his son worsening too. The fucker ended up taking so much from Ax. Almost fucking broke him. But we stopped ˈem in the end. Took ˈem down.
I figure the only positive thing ˈbout being back here is the reminder that we got it in us to take down our enemies, that we won’t be beat, no matter how bad things look when we’re in the thick of it.
Thorns will stand strong.
The ground starts rumbling and I hear the roar of motorcycles getting close, making their way into the deep country, the middle of nowhere.
“They’re here,” I tell Ax.
He pushes off the chain-link fence, drawing his gaze from the ruins.
We watch the bikes arrive. Only two. Has me relaxing a bit. We coulda been in for an army.
Ax is on the same page, cuz he says, “I was half expecting a fucking convoy.”
“Gotta be Marco Russo vouching for us.”
“Yeah. You said you guys were tight now.”
“Might be pushing it. We’re good. That’s it.”
Ax nods distractedly, focusing on the two riders dismounting. His hand brushes the butt of his gun. I’m doing the same damn thing. They might’ve agreed to a peaceful meet, but we gotta be careful in our world. Especially with a club that ain’t been an ally to us in the past.
The two of ˈem make their way over.
Good. Marco Russo’s one of ˈem. Gonna make this easier with him wanting the same thing we do.
I take in the second guy. The President of the Savage Slayers. Tommy Wells.
He’s got years on our Prez. Gotta be nearing thirty years on Ax. His rough beard matches his wiry, gray hair hanging down past his shoulders. He’s sporting all rough denim, aside from his leather cut. Marco’s dressed the same as the last time I saw him. Tactical pants and a tee, his cut over the top. One thing’s different, though. A patch on there. He’s marked as Sergeant-at-Arms now. I guess with all that’s going down, and his knowledge of the threat, his Prez figured he’d be best to handle it. Interesting time for a shakeup in club politics. Then again, when Ax took on the presidency, he had a bunch of us shift roles. Guess it might as well go down when things are already in chaos.
They reach us and Ax seems satisfied they ain’t threats, cuz he drops his hand from his piece and steps forward.
“Barron,” Wells greets him, holding out his hand.
Good. It’s all real peaceable.
Ax takes it and they shake hard. “Wells. Appreciate you agreeing to this meet.”
Wells looks at the fucked-up compound. “Yeah. Wouldn’t exactly call this neutral ground.”
Ax gestures to the devastation. “Wanted to highlight the stakes for all of us.”
Wells narrows his eyes. “That a threat?”
Ax folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah. But it ain’t coming from me, or my club. It’s all Frank Newman.”
“How’d he get past your defenses to carry out that attack right on your home territory? Thought you guys had roadblocks up, security all ˈround Reirdon Falls?”
“He had his tech guys hack our system. They put our cameras on a loop. Looked like all was well, but the feed was from hours before.”
Yeah. Me, Runner and Grit managed to figure that out when we ran with the tasks Ax gave us at the meet after the attack.
“Jesus Christ,” Russo breathes.
Wells tells us, “That son of a bitch has been on our radar for years.” He looks at Russo. “Even before he killed family of one of our members here.” Shifting his gaze back to Ax, he tells him, “He’s always been a thorn in our side.” He holds up his hands. “No pun intended.”
I roll my eyes. Can’t count the number of times we’ve heard that over the years.
Russo gives me a respectful chin lift.
“Russo,” I say, returning it. “Props on the promotion.”
“Thanks.”
Wells eyes him. “Been a long time coming, ain’t it, brother?”
He smiles.
“Yeah, Prez.”
Ax puts an end to the small talk then, getting down to business. “Thorns is meant to be at peace. We don’t want no part of all that down ‘n’ dirty bullshit no more. Still, people keep coming at us, cuz of the club’s fucked-up legacy. Right now, it’s this motherfucker. We got no choice. He’s a major threat. The son of a bitch came at us hard. He ain’t gonna stop ˈtil we’re dead and buried. So, we gotta bury him. Problem is, the club’s too high-profile, for all its good work the last couple years. Boosting the local economy, protecting people, charity work. Plus, Frankie setting up Smiter and putting the club all over the damned news. So, taking him out is gonna lead right back to us. You don’t got that problem. Your club’s well off the radar. Real down low. Nobody’s untouchable, but you and your boys are close to it.”
Ax shifts his weight, then goes on, “Frankie’s got a load of muscle at his back. My club can’t take ˈem all. Want us to partner up on it. We cut through his thugs, then I kill him. Your club gets credit for the kill. It’s gonna help your rep, big time. People thinking you took down a major player like Frankie? Nobody’s gonna touch your club ever again. Plus, with him gone, you ain’t gotta worry ˈbout being his next target, cuz I’m sure you’re on his list with the connection to Mia.”
Wells strokes his beard, thinking on it.
Marco bursts forward, yelling at Ax, “You wanna take the kill shot? I don’t fucking think so!”
“He came at my club, my family! My baby girl!” Ax bites back at him. “You better believe I’m putting him to ground!”
“He murdered my sister, Barron! I been wanting this payback for goddamn years!”
Wells steps forward and squeezes Russo’s shoulder. It has him moving back with a grunt.
“Your terms work for Savage Slayers,” Wells announces.
“Prez!” Russo yells.
Wells holds up his hand and Russo falls back.
“How do you know where he’s at? We been searching for the fucker for ages and turned up nothing.”
“Tracer,” Ax tells him. “I tagged one of his guys.”
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