by Cat Mason
“Do they make ‘em in severed finger size?” I chuckle, causing the serious look on Stone’s face to crack into a smile as he settles back in his chair.
“Laugh it up, assholes,” Jinks mutters. “I swear to fuck no one takes shit seriously around here.”
“Calm down, Jinksy.” Downing the last of my beer, I toss the bottle into the trash and give his bald ass head a rub. “No need to start pullin’ your hair out.”
“No shit,” Colt adds. “You want a finger? We’ll bring you a finger. Hell, I’ll bring ya the whole damn hand.”
“I’ve got a finger for ya,” Jinks deadpans, flipping us off.
“If we’re done here,” I say, already heading for the door. “I’m gonna let Shy know what’s up.”
“Yeah,” Stone nods. “Don’t forget about Jace. I need him taken care of ASAP.”
“My fuckin’ pleasure.” Stopping in the doorway, a smile spreads across my face. “Whatcha got in mind? Something traditional? Or can I shake things up for my own amusement?” I ask, turning to face him.
“I’ll leave that up to you,” he says with a shrug. “As long as you get the point across.”
“You two assholes want in on this?” I ask, my eyes shifting between Jinks and Colt.
“Fuck yes,” Colt chuckles.
“Like you gotta ask,” Jinks replies, shaking his head.
“Be ready, bright and early, boys.” Flashing Stone a smile, I rub my hands together. “Tomorrow’s Christmas mornin’ and Schrader Claus is ready to lace up his shit kickers.”
Stopping by my room, I throw what I’ll need for Jace into a bag and toss it on the bed. Closing the door behind me, I nearly run into Colt’s big ass in the hall. “Christ, man. There should be a bell around your neck or somethin’.”
“That would affect my stealth skills,” he fires back, tugging on his beard as he studies me. “You headed to talk to Shy?”
“Yep.” Moving around him, I head for her door. “Then I’m in bed for the night.”
“Might wanna keep it down this time, Brother.” With my hand on the doorknob, my eyes shoot to his. Colt smirks. “Jinks hears you fuckin’ his sister, he’s gonna be bustin’ in there to chop off more than your finger.”
I swallow hard at the idea of Jinks coming at me with a meat cleaver and a plastic container. “Yeah.” Shaking my head, I force the image from my mind. “Guess it’s a good thing it’s not like that.”
“You don’t have to convince me of shit, man.” Shrugging his broad shoulders, he scratches his head. “I’m the last person who needs to be offerin’ advice on women.”
“Then don’t,” I bite out, keeping my voice low. “It’s not like you see me askin’ if you’ve seen your favorite nurse lately.”
“Fair enough, asshole,” he replies, heading up the hall toward the main room. “Just tryin’ to keep the bloodshed on the other side of the gates.”
Chapter Eleven
Shy
When the doorknob twists, I bolt upright in bed, jerking the blanket over my body. Schrader steps into the room and closes the door behind him, flipping the lock. He is still shirtless, his jeans hanging low on his hips. Damn. Why does he have to look so good? His eyes find mine and my stomach drops.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, my anticipation immediately turning to worry.
Yanking a hand through his hair, he swallows hard. “We need to talk.”
“Un-fucking-believable!”
“Huh?” he asks, sounding confused.
Shoving off the blanket, I climb from the bed. Quickly grabbing my shirt from the floor, I tug it over my head to cover my naked body. “Boy, did I see this comin’,” I seethe, staring him down. “Hell, I even warned you; but you were dead set on gettin’ into my pants, asshole. I’m about to make this real easy.”
“Hang on a minute.” Schrader stands to his feet, his arms reaching out for me.
Swatting him away, I shake my head. I am too fucking mad right now to let him touch me. “Don’t do me any favors with your ‘we made a mistake’ bullshit? Honestly, Schrader, I’m insulted you thought you could come back in here and attempt to feed me some half-assed excuse to help ease your regret. Thanks for scratchin’ my itch, stud muffin. Now, if you don’t mind, I suddenly feel dirty. I’m goin’ to shower again.” Turning my back on him, I storm toward the bathroom. “Go ahead and let yourself out.”
Grabbing my arm, Schrader spins me around, slamming my back to the wall so fast that all the air whooshes from my lungs. “You and I both know that what happened before was a lot more than scratchin’ an itch,” he growls, his mouth dangerously close to mine. “And I sure as fuck guarantee you’re feelin’ that ache burn between those sweet thighs.”
“And what if I don’t?” My words come out rushed and breathless, giving me away.
His tongue darts out, skimming along my bottom lip. “Your lies taste sweet, Shy. But nothin’ like it’ll taste when I make you scream the truth.”
“You’re such a cocky asshole.”
“It’s not cockiness, babe.” Grinding himself into me, he makes sure I feel every inch of his erection pressing into me. “It’s confidence.”
I press my thighs together, desperately trying to ease the ache that only seems to build the more he touches me. His fingers tug at the hem of my shirt, raising it higher, the roughness of his fingertips causes goosebumps to break out over my skin. “What did we need to talk about?” I ask while his lips trail along my jaw.
“The club needs a favor, Cheyenne.”
“What kind of favor?”
“One that doesn’t involve me fuckin’ you.” Ripping the shirt over my head, he drops to his knees. Looking up at me through his lashes, he flashes me a smile that would instantly disintegrate my panties, if I were wearing any. Licking his lips slowly, he hooks my leg over his shoulder, and presses a kiss right above my clit. “Which means it can wait.”
My head falls back to the wall, eyes drifting closed on a long sigh. Threading my fingers through his sandy blonde hair, I give myself over to the need already building inside me, and am helplessly lost to Schrader’s wicked mouth. He brings me to the edge, over and over again, playing my body like he has expert knowledge on where to touch, tease, and taste in order to make me crazy. Throwing me to the bed, he continues to take his time to indulge in every inch of me, but I am anxious to do the same.
My hands and mouth explore every inch of his body, taking the time to trace every inch of the tattoos on his skin with my fingers and mouth. His muscles twitch beneath my fingertips, his heart thumping wildly. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, Shy,” he grunts, his hands fisting in my hair as I kiss my way down his chest.
“Good.” Looking up at him through my lashes, I wrap my fingers around his cock. “I’m just getting started.”
Chapter Twelve
Schrader
Pulling the blanket up over Cheyenne’s body, I slip out of the bed, get dressed and slip from the room to grab my gear. After fucking her within an inch of her life, we collapsed onto the bed and began the discussion I had originally planned to have about Hilster before she ripped my head off. As much as I want to wake her up and tear into her again, I have some pressing club business that needs to be handled before breakfast.
Jace.
Jinks and Colt are waiting for me when I step outside, neither of them looking like they have slept. “Ah!” I shout, inhaling the air. “It’s a beautiful morning to commit a felony.”
“Who the hell gets up this early?” Jinks asks, pulling the bill of his hat down to block the rising sun from shining in his eyes.
“Early bird gets the worm,” I inform him.
He shakes his head. “Keep your damn worm. You let me know when there’s a set of tits on the table at six a.m., then I’m up and at it with a smile on my face.”
Tossing him the bag I packed last night, I hold up the keys to the van and waggle my brows. “Quit bitchin’ and let’s head out.”
Climbing into th
e van, we don’t waste any time pulling out of the lot and head up the road to the house Jace lives with his parents while I give them the lowdown on my plan. Driving through the yard, I pull around his piece of shit truck, parking on the side of the house. “Ski masks are in the bag,” I inform them, yanking mine from my pocket and tugging it over my face. “Leave your cuts here.”
“And you think he won’t recognize our voices?” Jinks asks skeptically.
“He might … eventually,” I shrug, not giving one shit if Jace catches on or not. I plan to enjoy the hell out of this. “Adrenaline and fear are gonna hit him first. Probably gonna piss his pants. Not that it matters to me if he does.”
“Which room’s his?” Colt asks, casing the place.
“That one,” Jinks points to a large, partially opened window.
“Parents?” Colt tugs on his mask.
“Not an issue,” I blurt confidently. “Guarantee his old man’s passed out in the living room recliner. Drunk shithead won’t hear a thing. Mommy dearest works the nightshift at the nursing home. Means we’ve got a good forty-five minutes before she pulls up.”
“Nice.” Trading his ball cap for a mask, Jinks climbs out of the back of the van with the bag. “Let’s get this done.”
Leaving the engine running, I jump out with Colt and follow Jinks. Pushing the window up further, I peek inside, spotting Jace asleep in bed. Shooting a look to Jinks and Colt, I climb through the window before taking the bag from Jinks.
“I know you’re not thinkin’ I’m fittin’ through that narrow ass window,” Colt says, shaking his head.
“Want us to wait while you ring the doorbell?” I deadpan, making Jinks laugh.
“I’ll go,” Jinks offers, hoisting himself inside. “Just be ready to help yank him out.”
Grabbing the gun from my waistband, I head for the bed. Wearing a pair of blue boxers and one sock, Jace is sprawled across the bed on his stomach, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Pressing down between his shoulders with one hand, I push the barrel of my gun to the back of his head. “Rise and shine, asshole.”
“Umph,” Jace grunts, his body going completely rigid.
Pinning Jace’s ass to the mattress with his knee, Jinks takes the rope I had in the bag and ties Jace’s wrists together before going to work on his ankles. “Waste of time tyin’ him up,” I growl, grabbing a fist full of his hair, yanking until he yelps. “Kid looks like a little bitch. We’re better off tuckin’ him in and puttin’ him out of his misery right here.”
“Motherfuckers!” Jace shouts, yanking against the rope. “The fuck are you doing in my house?”
Ignoring him, I yank a black hood over his head, not wanting him to recognize the van or where we are going. “Or I could slice you open and leave you in the driveway for Mommy to find when she comes home.” My threat stops Jace’s rambling immediately.
“Negativo, Señor,” Jinks says in the worst attempt at a Mexican accent I have ever heard. “The boss man says bring him in alive.”
“Well, Javier,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes. “What the boss man wants, the boss man gets.”
Getting him to his feet, Jinks and I drag Jace to the window, shoving him out head first. Colt turns and looks at us just in time to see Jace hit the ground hard. Groaning in pain, Jace shifts onto his side. Shaking my head, I look to Colt. “I thought you were gonna help yank him out?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
Colt’s eyes widen. “You were serious about that?”
Hopping out the window, I help Colt get Jace off the ground and around to the back of the van, while Jinks moves ahead of us to get the rear doors open. Being the shit that he is, the kid tries to fight against us and his bindings, but it does no good. Jinks can tie a legendary knot. Closing the backdoors, Jinks crosses his arms over his chest. “How’d it go with my sister, last night?”
“Huh?” Colt and I ask in unison.
“You talked to her about everything, right?” Jinks’s brows knit together, his eyes shifting between the two of us. “Got her on board to meet with the Fed?”
“Yeah,” I blurt, clearing my throat. “She’s ready.”
“Good,” He nods, seeming satisfied. “Let’s get back before everyone wakes up.”
Back at the compound, Jinks and I unload Jace while Colt heads in to get the rest of the guys together. Dragging him inside the clubhouse, we drop him down into a chair in the middle of the room just as the door to the kitchen swings open and Shy steps out, holding a coffee cup. Stopping mid-step, she blinks several times as she stares at us. “Hey,” I nod, then yank off my mask and toss it to a nearby table. Jinks quickly does the same. “Say hello to Jace.” Her eyes widen, moving from me to Jinks before stopping on Jace.
“Really?” she mouths, jerking her chin in his direction. When I nod, she shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips. Walking over to a table in the corner, she sits and makes herself comfortable before bringing the mug to her lips.
Turning my attention back to the task at hand, I grab Jace by the throat. “We know all about you,” I growl into his ear, flexing my fingers tighter. “Hate to break it to you, fucker. That patch won’t protect you.”
“I don’t expect it to,” he gasps from beneath the hood. I drop my hand, letting him speak. “No brother hides behind their patch.”
“You’re not Mayhem,” I bite out, probably sounding angrier than I should. Doesn’t matter. I’m playing the part and right now I want to hear what this cocky prick has to say.
“I will be,” he grounds out, matter of fact.
“Is that so?” Jinks asks, horrible fucking Mexican accent and all. Yanking the hood off Jace’s face, he stares down at him with cold, calculating eyes, studying him intently. “And why the fuck do you want it so bad, bitch?”
Jace blinks several times as he adjusts to the light of the room, his eyes moving between Jinks and me. “What the hell?” he bites out in disbelief.
“We’re waiting for an answer,” I bark, kicking his chair.
He swallows hard. “The club doesn’t protect you, you protect it,” he replies, straightening. “That’s what I want to be a part of. A family stronger than blood. Brotherhood.”
“Untie him,” Stone says, stepping into the room.
Jace scans the room of people watching us, then his eyes drop to his body while Jinks works at the knots on his ankles and wrists. Once he is free, he jumps to his feet like a loaded spring. “You put a goddamn gun to my head!” he roars, shoving me.
My eyes widen. “Aww, honey, was it your first time?” I ask sarcastically, tapping him on the nose with my finger. “For what it’s worth, I tried to make it special.”
“Gentle even,” Colt blurts, inhaling a donut as he heads our way.
“You threw me out a window,” he deadpans, flipping Colt off with one hand, his other is tightly fisted at his side.
“Dropped,” I correct him. “We dropped you out a window.”
“Yeah,” Jinks agrees. “Colt really fucked that up.”
“And I’m naked.”
Shy makes a snort giggling sound. “I’m sorry.” Burying her face in her hands, she erupts into a fit of giggles.
“The fuck is so funny, smartass?” Jace barks, glaring at her.
“Be respectful, motherfucker,” I growl under my breath, ready to bash his teeth down his throat.
“Just remembering the day Vic, Huck and Pop did this same thing to Schrader and Jinks,” she shrugs, pushing to her feet. Glancing at me, she quirks up her brow suggestively. “Schrader was naked.”
“Hey!” Doc laughs. “I’m pretty sure he was wearin’ socks.”
“Fuck you,” I bite out playfully, crossing my arms over my chest. “I had pants on, too. They were just around my ankles.”
“Along with your Scooby Doo boxers,” Shy adds, her cheeks flushing. My eyes snap to her and she immediately shifts uncomfortably under my gaze.
Her comment shocks me. The day Jinks and I got our cuts, I had just turned eightee
n, which would have made Cheyenne thirteen. Maybe fourteen. Barely. Her having been there watching doesn’t make sense to me. Before D.A. stepped in to claim Shy as his, Doc kept her on a tight leash and did everything he could to keep his little girl away from all the craziness of the club activities he felt were too much for her. My memory of that day may be hazy from the party the night before, but I would remember if Shy, or any woman, had been in the room.
Wouldn’t I?
“Damn kid,” Huck laughs, tipping a jar of ‘shine in my direction. “Never could hold his whiskey.”
“Not my fault,” I blurt, defensively. “I eventually got my shit together.”
“That you did,” Huck nods in agreement.
Grabbing her mug, Shy says something about checking on more coffee and disappears through the door that leads to the kitchen. The guys are all laughing and joking, mostly at my expense now; even Jace cracks a smile now that he realizes I am not about to blow out the back of his skull with my Glock. Taking the cut from under Huck’s arm, Stone heads our way. “All jokes aside,” he begins, his face completely serious. “Your decision to join this club isn’t something any of us take lightly. Though the leather isn’t heavy, never forget the weight it carries. Or the responsibility we have to the family that comes along with it.”
Taking the leather from Stone’s outstretched hand, Jace nods solemnly. “I won’t forget it, Prez.”
“Good,” Stone replies. “Don’t get comfortable. We put your status on the table again after, at least, one year. Vote has to be unanimous before you get your top rocker.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now put on the goddamn leather and let’s have a beer!” Huck booms, slamming his hand down on the bar.
“It’s seven o’clock in the morning.” Stepping out from the kitchen, Shy walks around the bar and slides boxes of donuts onto the bar beside him.
“Where the hell did you get those?” I ask, knowing she better fucking not have left the lot.