My back and forth thoughts are interrupted by the opening of the bedroom door. “Sunshine?” Twist calls out, coming fully into the room and sitting on the side of the bed next to me.
He has his back to me with his elbows resting on his knees as he places his head in his hands, so he’s not looking at me. Something must be bothering him, but he doesn’t usually share it with me when I ask. I wish he would, maybe I could actually help somehow.
“Everything okay?” I ask, concerned.
He glances back at me briefly, his cheeks flushed warmly and his eyes sad. “I’m okay.” His fingers tap a silent beat. “How are you doin’, Sadie baby?”
My head tilts as I lightly place my hand on his shoulder. “Just waiting for you to talk to me like you mentioned earlier.”
“I’ve been goin’ at it with your brother.”
“I noticed it was a little tense with you both, but I thought that’s how it’s always been with you guys? Was it from you going to California?”
“Not this bad. Not really Cali, but he wants me to stay away from you.”
“Well I don’t want you too, Twist. You’ve been nothing but kind to me. You’ve basically taken care of me and supported me ever since I first got here. He doesn’t see that?”
“Naw, baby; I’ve done nothin’ but want you, sugar cakes. It’s wrong and even I know it. I’m too fucked up. I’ve had it out with my brothers, they know who I am damn it.” He shakes his head, frustrated. “Fuck...They know what I am. He’s right, they’re all right, I ain’t no good for you.”
My eyes fill; it’s amazing to hear him say he wants me, but it kills me that he believes he’s not good enough. “I never asked for good, Twist. I asked for you,” I utter out and the first tear falls. This beautifully broken man has no one to believe in him, but I do, and I will every day of my life if he needs me to.
“What would you do with someone like me? I drink too much, I’m not right in my head...There’s so much about me you don’t know.”
“So you can tell me then; we can learn about each other. You’re the only man who has ever gone out of his way for me besides my brother. With time, Silas has to notice that, and if not, then that’s his fault.”
“For fuck’s sake, sugar, he thinks I’m sleepin’ on the goddamn floor and shit in here. He don’t know we’ve been sharing a bed or about what happened before I went out of town.”
“By that, you mean with us kissing? And don’t forget the other time in the kitchen. It’s not like this is a onetime deal or anything. It keeps happening over and over. I don’t want to keep living here and not at least attempt to figure out what this pull is you have on me.”
“That’s gotta be just sex, baby—our bodies wanting each other’s. It hasn’t happened, so I bet it’s making the pull to give in even stronger.”
“No you don’t seem to get it. When you scream a night, I want to hold you. I want to tell you that whatever you’re going through inside will be okay. I want to wake up and kiss you every morning. That may sound premature, but after that kiss, I can’t help but want you. And that, Twist, is not just sex.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, bringing his sea green gaze to mine. “I’m unsteady, Sadie. You don’t know what all you’re getting into with me, and I’m terrified you’ll hate the kind of man I am, once you figure it out. But I’m tired of being alone, and for some odd reason you just feel like home to me. I look at you and I see light. I need some of that in my life to take away the darkness always pullin’ me under.”
“Home?” I choke, out and he nods.
More tears fall, and my heart becomes his a little bit more. “I can be your anchor.” The words sound cheesy when they leave my mouth, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead he leans in to thread his hands in my hair and rub his nose with mine like he does at night. It instantly calms me; he calms me. I hope I can do the same for him.
“You won’t want me,” he shakily mumbles, giving me a last minute cop-out and I graze my lips against his. He’s too late though.
“I already do and I won’t let go of you,” I say breathlessly, and he takes my mouth for a tender, slow kiss.
Our lips fuse together in passion. As his heavy body crawls over me, pushing me back into the pillows, he’s careful not to put pressure on my stomach as his hips line with mine, and an insatiable need for him to be inside me overwhelms every inch of me.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
I pull back to draw in a heavy breath and utter, “Please, I need you, I’m okay.” His mouth meets mine as his hand flutters over my body until he reaches my core. My hips thrust involuntarily, and his fingers quickly enter me, but it’s still not enough.
A gasp of pleasure leaves my mouth as I hold his scruffy cheeks in my hands. His mouth leaves mine as he runs his lips over my throat, whispering kisses over the sensitive flesh. His other hand cradles my face, his thumb sweetly rubbing over my cheek. This isn’t just sex; this is Twist cherishing me.
“More, Sunshine?” he mumbles quietly, his warm mouth near my ear. I nod my head, letting loose a nearly silent moan, begging for anything he’ll give me.
He pushes my shirt up over my breasts and I quickly lean up to help him get it off. Once free of the material, his lips graze over the sensitive skin on my chest, pausing to lick and suck over the mounds of my breasts. His other hand sweetly glides over my round stomach until he works my shorts off.
“Every inch of you is gorgeous, Sadie.” His bright green gaze full of hunger ignites a want so deep inside of me that I anxiously help him pull his shirt off, exposing a physique that makes my mouth water.
Twist’s body’s like reading a comic book with all of his classic, brightly-colored tattoos. It’s pure art and beauty. He’s not bulky by any means; frankly, I’d be surprised if he has an ounce of fat on him. He’s made up of corded muscles, his stomach nearly hair free except a slight happy trail leading to the prize.
His blond hair reaches his shoulders, though he usually has it pulled back into a man bun, making the entire package come together, branding him as a beautifully broken piece of sweet torture. You want to fight him but no matter how hard you try, you can’t help but crave the kind of torment he’s sure to inflict on your heart.
He shucks his clothes impatiently, ready just as much as I am and enters me on a deep thrust. It steals the breath straight from my lungs. I can’t even call out, just silently thank the world for this brief moment of blissful paradise. One side of me wants him to fuck me to high heaven while the other is lapping up the softer side of him. I get to see a piece of him that no one else does, and it’s mind-blowing.
My hands hold his cheeks as I stare into his eyes. With each movement he makes, I watch, wanting to remember every millisecond of this moment. I know my soul calls to his; the scary bit is, I swear his answers. Could he care as much as I do?
“Don’t make me be alone any longer,” he demands quietly, as he presses into me. It’s a quiet plea from a man who always appears to be strong, when in reality, he’s anything but, and it makes the impact that much more powerful. You wouldn’t hear him say those things in the bar around the other men, you’d see him being a jerk and acting like he’s on top of the entire world, not having a care in life about what others could possibly think of him.
“Ne-never.” I shake my head and he kisses me with his entire being, drowning me in feelings I wouldn’t ever imagine him being capable of sharing with anyone, let alone me.
He worships me, catching each moan I call out with his mouth, running his hands over my breasts, squeezing my thighs, and raking his fingers down my arms until I can no longer think. The brief seconds of little touches turn into moments of bliss, becoming long minutes of the sweetest torture I’ve ever experienced. If this is how it is with him every time, I won’t be able to live my life without him being a part of it. I had no idea what it meant to make love before this—the un-quenching ache that begs it to never end.
The passion that consumes your
heart—not just claiming you—but owning every last piece of you whether you want to relinquish control or not. It takes over, fight or not, and you love every single bit of it. At this rate, I’ll never be able to forget him.
Our time comes to an end, and he flashes the first smile I’ve ever seen on his face. More tears fall as I realize I’ve just willingly handed over a piece of my heart to him.
I didn’t think such a thing was conceivable, but it is.
Love is real. Soul mates do exist—because I’ve just found mine.
Twist
After being with Sadie, I just feel wrong. How could I do that to my brother’s sister? I was gentle with her, treating her like I felt she deserved, but afterwards I’m left torn. I shouldn’t have fuckin’ done it. I should have held off and let her alone. But I fucked up and slept with her. I thanked her like some fuckin’ jackass afterwards and popped smoke outta my room like my ass was on fire. I was done talkin’ at that point. I would’ve gone from digging myself into a hole, down to diggin’ a fucking ditch or some shit. 2 Piece and the other brothers would be skinning my ass like a damn rabbit.
Shaking my head in disgust with myself, I throw back the cheap shot of rum.
“Another?” Snake, the Prez’s kid mumbles, and I nod. He tops my shot glass off and I slam it back quickly.
“You on a mission, brother?” One of the prospects claps me on the back as he comes up next to me at the bar causing me to let out a growl.
“You wanna lose that fuckin’ hand? And I ain’t your brother, Prospect.” The little weasel winces at first until he notices a few of the other brothers turn, curious to watch. The older man Smiles snickers, noticing my body strung up tightly ready to flip my shit. I hate people touching me, especially when I’m not expecting it. I don’t know why I’m that way, I just am.
“Lose my hand? This isn’t the eighteenth century; I was only trying to make conversation. Chill.”
“Well don’t. You ain’t my fuckin’ buddy. And yes, lose your fuckin’ hand. If you’d like I can turn your shriveled little wanker into a cunt, then we can have you ‘round here with the other bitches.”
I hear a few more brothers let loose chuckles. Stupid fuckers; at least someone’s getting some entertainment out of it.
Daddy, that’s not nice!
Her voice chastises, and I instantly picture her wagging her finger at me.
“You gotta stop that, baby; not here,” I mutter, not realizing I said it out loud.
“All right I get it, but don’t call me baby, man. That’s fucked up,” the Prospect grumbles, irritated. I can’t help myself and I grab the back of his head and slam his face into the bar a few times. He stumbles to the side a little from the hard impact to his head. I jump off my bar stool.
I’ve been needing this—a way to help keep her voice quiet—and it seems blood was the only trick I had to remedy that. I can’t have her talking to me when I’m not alone.
My fingers tap at my side irritated, the same beat I always go back to.
“Aghhhh!” he screams with his hands over his face attempting to stop the blood from running out of his nose. The brothers just sit, watching and laughing, waiting for me to really beat the dude’s ass. Before I have time to get a kick in, Ares is storming between us, dragging the idiot to the bathroom.
“Welp, Twist, Daddy took your plaything away.” Spin laughs as he walks up beside me, resting his elbows on the bar away from the bloody mess I’d created.
“Shouldn’t you be at your shop drawing in your coloring books or some shit?”
He shakes his head at the same line I always give him shit with, as Snake sets a longneck in front of him. Spin’s our patched brother, the club’s treasurer, and he also owns a tattoo shop where he’s usually hiding out. Today his tall Mohawk’s a dark purple color, almost the same color as one of his eyes. The other’s like a pale gray color. His hair’s usually black, but occasionally he’ll pop in with some crazy color.
The first time I saw him match his hair to his eye, I thought the fucker was wearing a contact; turns out it’s real. I punched him to find out. I got my ass kicked pretty good; he’s a buff fucker. But it was worth it, and he doesn’t really annoy me like a lot of the others.
Spin’s one that actually knows how to keep his fuckin’ mouth closed. Most of these asses around here don’t know what quiet is or are scared of it or some shit anyhow. I can head to Spin’s shop, and he’ll tattoo me for hours in silence; it’s one of the few times my mind’s at peace.
“You gettin’ up there in age, man—always repeating yourself. Better think on something new.”
“That’s right; I am older, so respect your elders,” I grumble and stick a toothpick in my mouth. I could go for a line right about now.
“How old are you anyhow?”
“Why? You gonna bake me a cake and suck my dick if I tell you?”
“Fuck no! Just wondering if I needed to tat a milestone on you or something.”
I have nothing to respond to that one, so I just laugh and take a seat back on the bar stool. Slamming the next shot back, I damn near choke hearing Spin.
“I hear you were talking to 2 about Sadie.”
I take a moment to clear my throat at hearing her name come up out in the bar in front of the others. They’re not right beside me, but within listening distance with the music turned off.
“Fuckin’ gossipin’ bitches around here.” I swear to Christ, these guys like to talk about shit they know nothing about. It’s usually Smiles and the damn Prospects running their mouths.
“You shoulda’ waited until I was here.”
“Why? So you can lay into me, too, ‘bout wantin’ somethin’ I ain’t meant to have? No thanks.”
“Nah man, so that I could’ve told 2 Piece that Sadie would be lucky to have you at her six.” My eyes shoot over to his, to gage if he’s bullshitting me or being serious.
“You fuckin’ with me right now?”
“I wouldn’t fuck with you about this; I’ve seen you taking to her since she’s been around and all.”
I keep my mouth shut and nod, focusing back on my empty shot glass. I wasn’t thinking I’d have anyone’s support or if I even deserved it. They’ve all witnessed me do horrifying shit to some busted-ass punks before, and I can’t blame them for wanting what’s best for Sadie, because I do too. That’s what’s making me think so much. When the fuck did I start giving a shit about Sadie and my brothers’ opinions anyhow?
Chapter 5
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
-Oscar Wilde
I’m woken up to Cain beating on my door. It’s like nails on a chalkboard after I practically crawled into bed around four am, drunker than a skunk. I slide off the side of the bed, landing with a loud painful thump, just as I hear Sadie open the door and great him.
“Tell Twist he’s gotta come now; it’s club business.”
“Errrmmmm,” I groan in response.
“You need to get the fuck out here, brother!” he hollers, upset about some shit, and I cringe.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’,” I mumble, and Sadie shuts the door again.
There’s no way in hell I’m making it out there like this so I slide the nightstand drawer open, shuffling my hand around until I come back with my coke stash. I tuck the dish under my arm on the floor and rake together a decent sized bump, performing my usual morning routine. It’s gonna take a little more than usual today though.
I inhale deeply through my right nostril as I use my pointer finger to close the left side and the cool feeling hits me almost immediately as the coke shoots up my nose, the taste and sensation overcoming my other senses. Ahhh, if only I could lie here and just soak up this feeling for awhile, but unfortunately I can’t, obviously something is going on.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Her extra shrill voice causes my eyes to fly open, momentarily blinded by the light until my gaze hits hers... And boy does she look fuckin’ pisse
d about something.
“Waking up?” I ask.
She storms over angrily, kicking my cocaine dish under the bed, and I put my arms in front of my face in case her foot comes my direction next. I’m guessing I’m the one who pissed her off, maybe from getting trashed last night after we were together. Who knows?
“The fuck’s goin’ on?”
“You’re doing drugs! Right in front of me!” she shrieks.
“And? This is my room, and your brother knows I like a little pick-me-up. What’s your damn deal? You need to reel that shit in, right the fuck now, Sadie.”
“Get up! Go talk to your brothers, but this conversation isn’t over! You’re not doing that shit in here with me and my baby!” she nags and plops down on the bed, angrily glaring at me. I almost laugh when I see her fold her arms across her big belly. It wouldn’t be good if I let loose with a chuckle, so I hold it back for fear of further pissing her off.
Standing, I groggily pull on my clothes from the night before and gripe, “You ain’t my fuckin’ woman; so mind your business.”
Wrong move. She picks up whatever she can find on the nightstand and starts chunking it all at me, one by one. I’m too tired for this shit, so I hightail it out of my room; shit still hitting the door when I close it.
Crazy bitch.
“Twist, hurry the fuck up! Some fuckin’ clown on a bike just outside the gate. Pretty fuckin’ sure it’s the guy who was terrorizing London and Avery back at the grocery store,” Cain boasts.
“You sure ‘bout that shit?”
“Fuckin’ A brother.”
Wasting no time, I go flying out of the club, straight for my bike. I hear my brothers behind me. Ares and 2 Piece rev their bikes as well and I spin my back tire, waiting for the stupid prospect to get the gate open. Once there’s about a four-foot gap, I race through it, ready to catch the dumb motherfucker brave enough to threaten my club.
In no time at all, we catch up, only there’s not just one lone rider, but a group, and wouldn’t you know it’s the fucking Iron Fists—a few from the south Texas Chapter. Well, welcome to Central Texas motherfucker. Around here, we run this shit.
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