Rescued MC (The Nighthawks MC Book 13)

by Bella Knight

  Two glassine baggies fell out. Thorn’s eyes glinted. “I knew it.” She scooped them up, and hissed “Faster!” to the girls, as the sound of Leticia hitting Bone echoed through the apartment.

  Rota pointed at another drawer. Queenie nodded, and Rota dumped the contents into the same bag. No packets fell out, but a crack pipe did. Rota handed the pipe to Thorn.

  Thorn went back in the room. “Dem girls too small be doin’ dis,” she said, handing the bags and crack pipe to Rona, who made it disappear.

  “Go,” said Leticia.

  “Yeah,” said Thorn. “Right now.” She ran back, and physically grabbed Queenie.

  Rota grabbed Vonda. “Close your eyes,” said Rota. The little girl in the grubby blue shirt did. They ran, out the door, down the stairs.

  Lily opened the doors, and they put the girls in. Thorn jumped in front and buckled up. Wraith slipped in with the bags, glad she’d doubled up with Rota. Rota and Lily ran for their bikes, and followed as Gregory pulled out. He’d thoughtfully provided a car seat for Vonda, and Wraith got her strapped in, then Queenie, then she strapped herself in.

  “Where we goin’?” asked Queenie, over her sister’s sobs.

  “To your sister,” said Wraith. “These girls are skinny as rails,” Wraith said to Gregory. “We need to stop off at Sonic.”

  “Popeye’s,” said Queenie. “Vonda likes Popeye’s.”

  “They have drive-through?” asked Gregory.

  “Walk-in,” said Thorn. “I’ll get what they like.” Gregory took out his wallet, and handed over three tens. “Get enough for tomorrow, too. Tameka won’t want to cook tomorrow.”

  The girls stared at the money. “These be rich people?” asked Queenie. “Why you helpin’ us?” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “Ghost and Killa are my friends,” said Gregory. “Work with them when I teach classes across the road from their shop. Ghost and Killa wanted to help girls like they were, like you, get them into better apartments, jobs.”

  “Dey da bomb,” said Thorn. “We gotta good ‘partment for you. Ya sleep in pods, wif ya own light an’ ya own shelf an’ ya own computer. My brudda, he be Vonda’s age. Rudy.”

  Wraith smiled. “He’s a good kid. Feisty.” She tried to rub Vonda’s back, but Vonda was having none of it. She clung to her sister’s hand.

  “I get ya da works,” said Thorn. “Be back in a few.”

  “No!” screamed Queenie.

  “Look at me through da window,” said Thorn. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. I ya auntie now.”

  She ran in, and the girls watched her order, and then come out with a bag of chicken and a tray of drinks. She slid in the front seat.

  “Ya want ya change back?” she asked Gregory, as he pulled back on the road. Lily took the lead and Rota followed the SUV.

  “Of course not,” said Gregory, offended. “Aunties need money to keep up with little bits.”

  “I ain’t little,” said Queenie. “I be strong.”

  “You go, girl,” said Wraith. “You had to be, to survive that life.”

  The girls went insane when they saw Tameka pacing just outside the apartment. Wraith had trouble getting a squealing, squirming Vonda out. She got the girl on the ground, and Queenie and Vonda ran to their sister and hit her like a freight train. Wraith helped get the loaded-down Thorn out of the front seat, and then she went to pick up the single bag with two girls’ worth of stuff in it.

  “I see another Wal-Mart trip coming on,” said Wraith.

  “Hand the bag over, and we’ll go together,” said Gregory. “Take an article of clothing out for each girl, get the sizes first.”

  “Good thinking,” said Wraith. “They’re way too small for their age.” She checked it out and rattled them off, then brought the bag over to Rota. She kissed Rota’s cheek, and said, “Wal-Mart run with Gregory.”

  “I’m going home,” said Lily. “I’ve got my own to deal with.” They hugged her, and she went back to her bike.

  Rota said, “I’m coming with.”

  They went to the Wal-Mart, and came back with leggings, jeans, shorts, tops, underwear, socks, sandals, and tennis shoes. They also got three more tablets, a burner phone, two booster seats, books, tiny plastic dolls with tiny plastic pets, and a dollhouse loaded with furniture, and more food.

  They filled up the SUV, and drove back to the apartment. Gregory kissed them on the cheek, and drove off to his own full household.

  Callie had already left, leaving behind a purple and a pink sleeping pod. They were stacked, bunk-bed style, with drawers beneath. Wraith and Rota helped Thorn unpack the girls’ new things, as the girls were still eating chicken and regaling their sister with the story of their escape. Tameka got them washed up, and they were stunned to see the pods, toys, books, new clothes, and sleeping pods. Vonda was able to work through not getting purple on the bottom, and they immediately ripped open cardboard and plastic to get to their new dollhouse, furniture, and toys.

  Tameka sat there, tears running down her face. “I can’t thank ya’ll enough,” she said.

  “No one deserves the life you three led before,” said Wraith.

  “Stick to your new life, and you’ll be fine,” said Rota.

  “I will,” said Tameka. They both hugged her, and walked out of the room.

  Thorn stood in the doorway. “Bone won’t make no trouble,” she said.

  “If he’s still alive,” whispered Little Bit. “He done stole from the wrong person.”

  “You two watch over these kids,” said Wraith, handing over the burner phone. “Put our numbers in it for Tameka. You need anything, you call.”

  “And feed them,” said Rota. “They’re too damn skinny.”

  “Will do,” said Thorn. “You did us a solid tonight. We be rememberin’ it.”

  “You get your shit together,” said Wraith, “Just like you are. Then you will be in a position to do this again, and again, and again. You go back out there, and you can’t do what we do.”

  Little Bit and Thorn nodded. “We be doin’ it,” said Little Bit. They all fist-bumped, and Rota and Wraith left.

  Rota and Wraith clasped hands behind each other’s necks in the parking lot, and touched foreheads. “I need a shower,” said Rota. “Nobody should have to live in filth like that.”

  “We survived,” said Wraith. “So we can do this again.”

  Rota shuddered. “We need to earn more money, get these girls all the apartments they need.”

  Wraith grinned. “I do. Don’t you and Skuld kill yourselves doing more stuff. Spend time together.”

  “With your shield,” said Rota.

  “Or on it,” said Wraith.

  “Get your hands off my woman,” said Skuld. Rota stepped to her, and they touched foreheads. “Sorry, got into a huge hoo-ha with some FBI asshole. Woulda helped, but Gregory said you were solid.”

  “Did you just call an FBI agent a hoo-ha?” asked Wraith. All three women doubled over, laughing.

  “Most of them couldn’t find one with both hands,” said Skuld. They all doubled over laughing again. “Seriously, he thought I was trying to kill his people, and wouldn’t approve extra classes. I told him I would give him an immediate private class to prove my worth. He tried to wipe the floor with me, had more mass, a whole head taller, lifted at the gym. Thought it would matter. I kicked his tightwad ass. He approved whatever the hell I wanted,” said Skuld. “Including Gregory’s training.”

  “Cha-ching,” said Wraith. “Okay, I’ve got my own kids to throw around. You two go find your hoo-has or something.” They all doubled over laughing again, and were still laughing as they sped out into the night.

  When they got home, Rota and Skuld took a shower together, slid their hands over one another, slick with soap. Skuld nibbled on Rota’s ear. Rota grabbed the back of her neck, and kissed her wife fiercely. Skuld pushed Rota against the wall, kissed her so hard the metal beads in her braids chimed, and slid her fingers in.

  Rota
began to move, back and forth, and she kissed Skuld back until she lost her breath. She came in great gasps, and moaned. Skuld slipped her fingers out, and then washed her wife again, her fingers sliding over Rota’s ass. Rota washed Skuld’s front, then sucked each breast, making Skuld come. She used her fingers to make Skuld scream into Rota’s mouth with pleasure.

  They finished the shower, and Skuld stepped out first, and handed Rota a towel. They dried each other off. They slipped between the sheets, and held each other in the dark.

  “Go to sleep, love,” said Skuld. “I have to throw more FBI people into padded walls, and you have to take six climbers up a sheer rock face tomorrow morning.”

  “You are so mean to me,” said Rota. “And to tightwad FBI guys.”

  “I’m an evil bitch,” agreed Skuld. They shared one last scorching kiss, and then they slid into sleep.

  “Teaching is the method to help everyone succeed.”

  3

  Gateway

  “Sometimes, just pack up your stuff and go. Clear you mind, open your heart.”

  Bao rose early. Her wise daughter Hu had packed for her, and she smiled at the care Hu had taken. She checked her husband’s bag, and found the same exquisite care. She sighed. She didn’t want to leave her beautiful children, but Italy called to her. This would be her last airline trip while pregnant. The girls were going away on a special camping trip with the horses. Jie and Hu had no interest in romantic Italy, and Grace looked forward to the camping trip as a way to get closer to her sisters. Damia was coming along on the camping trip to take care of the horses.

  Bao took both suitcases down the stairs, one at a time. She slid them up to the door. Gregory had gone in to work at four in the morning to pick up and sign a client that arrived at three-thirty in the morning, a rap star flying in from Tokyo from a recording gig, ready to sign one of Gregory’s record-label girls. Yana was eleven, and was smart, tough, and could rap and sing with the best of them. Yana put on a song and dance at five, and Gregory was on his way back, with a signed contract and his mother Stella.

  Bao knew they would have food in the first-class lounge, far better than whatever she could make. Also, they had eaten through anything perishable already. She put on her sunglasses, opened the door, rolled each bag out, and then shut the door. She was dressed in a comfortable outfit of black pants and loose gold tunic, both treated with anti-stain chemicals. She wore no jewelry, only the barest hint of makeup and some lip gloss. She wore her hair pinned in loose waves. She had only her cell phone in her pocket, and her passport, Italian lire, American dollars, and credit cards around her neck.

  Gregory drove up, parked the SUV, and then brought out the same sort of clamshell rolling luggage with Stella, Nico’s mother. He closed the back, rolled the luggage up, and then got back in the SUV. He drove off, happy to help.

  Stella hugged Bao. “I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.” She put her hand over her mouth, and several tears leaked out.

  “There’s no crying on vacation!” shouted Nico, wandering out, still half asleep, in his best Tom Hanks voice. The women laughed, and Bao and Stella hugged. Nico came up, and made his mother the middle of a hug sandwich.

  The company driver drove up; Tori was driving. “Hey, cut the love,” she said. “I’ve got a VIP to pick up, not like you slouches.”

  Nico laughed, and put his mother in the front seat, then helped his wife put all three cases into the trunk. His wife went in one side, and he on the other one. Tori was off the second their seatbelts were plugged in.

  They made good time to the airport. Stella read from the brochure about the sculpting tour. “We’ve got Michaelangelo, Donatello, Da Vinci, the big three,” she said. “Then there are dozens more, from Nicola Pisano to Benadetto da Maiano. We’re going to take it in groups, see the flowering of the era. We’re staying in villas all over Italy, and sculpting ourselves, in stone!” She actually giggled.

  “Do as you like, Mama,” said Nico. “Just be back in Tuscany at the right time.”

  “I’ll drink vino and eat amazing food, and we actually get to touch some of the statues! With gloves, of course,” said Stella. She bounced in her seat.

  “Woman’s happy,” said Tori. Tori grinned. “We’ve got this Pack running like clockwork,” she said. “Got two bikes out in one week. Killa and Ghost keep stealing our females, too. Some of them are gonna jump ship and go over and work with them, doing a second shift. Killa and Ghost are all for it; they’ve got lots of orders. Trikes are good for those that don’t want to lean on curves, and for those with dogs.”

  “Awesome,” said Nico.

  They slid into the spot, and he was out in a moment to open the door for his mother, while his wife circled to the back to take out the cases. She got two out before he could get there. He grabbed the last case out, shut the trunk, and dragged two of the cases up to the curb. Bao followed with her own case. Tori drove off to Arrivals to pick up another client, a Youtube celebrity who had threats on his life.

  Nico checked them into first class outside in the broiling heat, and the airline labeled their bags and took them and put them on a conveyor belt. Bao led them inside to the security line, while Nico passed out their boarding passes. They took out their passports. They went in, stood in line, and then took off their shoes and neck pouches. They walked through, and they got their things. They went up to the first class lounge, and ate a delicious breakfast of eggs Benedict, orange juice, and pastries. Stella ran down a list of sculptors and where their surviving works were located, trying to determine which of the tour company’s offerings would yield the most marbled fruit.

  They boarded the plane, and went to their pods. Stella and Nico started with espresso, Bao a lovely sparkling apple juice, then, after the plane took off, each watched their screens. Stella watched sculpting videos on YouTube on her computer. Bao watched her favorite television programs, and Nico sent all the digital copies of the new contract in to the various people, a last thing he needed to do. They had polenta with mushrooms and tomatoes, gorgonzola pasta, salad, and wine, a lovely white, with a sparkling San Pelegrino water for Bao.

  They all relaxed with movies —Stella’s a documentary about Italian art, Bao a friendship movie, and Nico’s an action flick. Then they had an Italian cheese board. Then, they went for the sea bass with rosemary potatoes, and more white wine.

  Bao took a nap while Nico and Stella were wide awake, Stella completely unable to sleep due to excitement and being treated like royalty for the first time in her life, and Nico because he was used to working long hours at work, and intended to answer just one more email as his wife slept, keeping him free from being disorganized. He finally put down his phone, and slept.

  They awoke, and had potato and spinach cake with bacon and tomatoes, which was accompanied with orange juice. Stella still hadn’t been able to sleep. She had researched sculptors, watched movies, and played video games while they’d slept.

  The plane landed, and they went through Immigration. Two drivers met them, one for Stella to bring her to the hotel where the trip began in only an hour that morning, and the other to the lovely Florence hotel, the San Gallo Palace Hotel, where Bao had booked a suite with its own terrace.

  They checked in, received their sparkling wine, sparkling grape juice for Bao, then walked the Piazza de Lorenzo, to the San Lorenzo, home of the sculptures of Lorenzo and Giuliano Medici. They saw a tour group, and Bao spotted Nico’s mother. Laughing, they slipped out before they were seen, and made their way down to the San Lorenzo Market. Nico bought his wife gold bangles and a stunning necklace, and then they ate cheese and Nico drank wine, Bao apple juice, at an outdoor restaurant.

  Nico walked Bao back, and had the hotel store the necklace in the hotel safe. “Much safer, signore,” agreed the hotel attendant, a beautiful woman with hair so brown it looked black, with deep brown eyes, and a wide smile with perfect white teeth.

  “There are pickpockets.” Nico and Bao showed their neck pouch
es, and he nodded. “Much safer. Can the concierge get you anything, perhaps tickets to an opera?”

  “A walking tour,” said Bao. “A food tour, in English.”

  The concierge came over, a young man with whiskey-colored hair and eyes, and an insouciant attitude. “I have two available. Would you like to do the evening tour tonight?”

  Bao grinned. “I would love that.”

  “Do not eat again,” said the hotel desk woman. “Go upstairs, nap, have an… interlude. Then, back down, four o’clock.”

  Nico grinned. “Would you like an… interlude?” he asked his wife, looking deeply into her soft brown eyes. He kissed her cheek.

  “Perhaps,” said Bao, looking up into his eyes, then she snuffed out a laugh. They completed the order, entered the elevator, laughing like children.

  Nico led her to the room, got the door open with the key card, pushed her in, shut the door behind them, locked it, and said, “Shall we test the bed or the couch first?” They looked at the beautiful bed. “Bed,” he said, and she nodded.

  Bao took off her “traveling clothes” and said, “Wonderful.” She looked into the bathroom, at the tub. “Clean sex first?”

  “Later,” said Nico. “I feel dirty, and I’d like to get hot and sweaty.” He took off his slacks, hung them up, and then his shirt. Bao ripped down his boxer shorts.

  “Too slow!” she said. He had his undershirt and socks off in a moment. He dragged her onto the bed, and kissed her face, down her neck, to her breasts.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “Mmm,” she said. “Lower.” She shoved his hands down to her breasts.

  “Your wish is my command,” he said.

  He kissed his way back up, and then went down her neck again. He kissed and sucked each breast, making her cry out. He went lower and lower, making her wriggle. He kissed his way to her thighs, and she moaned, parted for him. He used his fingers and his tongue to make her buck and squeal. Finally, she lay there, spent, as he went back to his suitcase for the box of condoms.