Halligan To My Axe (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 2)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  The low throb that had been pulsing softly before now started to burn with need. Warm slickness started seeping out of my channel, lubricating my entrance for him.

  I hit with a soft bounce and watched as he shucked his underwear, moved in between my legs, pushed my panties aside, and thrust his hard cock deep inside of me. Bottoming out before withdrawing and slamming home once more.

  The hard thrusts were not nice. They were jagged. Unbreakable. Desperate thrusts that showed just a hint of what Kettle was feeling right then.

  His breath sawed in and out of him in ragged gasps.

  The panties that were bunched at the base of his cock rubbed against my clit coarsely but, strangely, it worked for me.

  The rough lace felt so foreign, so utterly wrong, that it was surprising that it would also make my pleasure all the more intriguing.

  “God, yes,” I panted as one particular thrust had my head smacking into the headboard.

  Normally, Kettle would’ve backed off, moved me to the end of the bed so I would be in no way uncomfortable, but Kettle was gone. In his place was a ravaged man who needed me to take him away from the horrid things that happened that night.

  Which was why I was letting him use my body as an outlet. He was fueling our coupling with the rage and hurt he was feeling. Punishing both of our bodies.

  “Hold on,” he said coarsely, before abruptly pulling out of me and roughly flipping me over until I was on my belly. “Get your knees up under you. Keep your shoulders and face on the bed.”

  I did as I was told, following his directions implicitly.

  Once in the desired position, he got a hold on my hair again, pulled it back roughly, and slammed his length back inside of me.

  “Fuck,” we both hissed.

  He was fucking me so hard now that I practically felt it in my throat.

  His huge length was tunneling inside of me so hard that our flesh was making a loud smack each time our hips met.

  Then the hand that was not busy pulling back on my hair went to the cheek of my ass and squeezed. Hard.

  He took his thumb and ran it along the seam of my sex. Gathering my wetness on his finger, and then he thrummed the very tip of my clit, making my orgasm crash through me.

  It wasn’t until his thumb, coated in my juices, found the hole of my ass and pushed inside that I realized what his goal was.

  The feeling, so very, very foreign, made that orgasm that had previously been a ten on the Richter scale, smash through the fuckin’ charts, blowing every other orgasm I’d had before to smithereens. My eyes squeezed tightly shut, so hard my head hurt. My mouth turned and closed on the fleshy part of Kettle’s wrist, biting down roughly to withhold the scream that threatened the very structure of the room we were in.

  My head moved forward until the sting in my scalp went to a burn, and my heat clamped down hard on the raging cock that was pummeling it, squeezing it like a fist.

  He groaned low in his throat, and with three more sharp thrusts, he came. Pushing into me so hard that my knees went out from under me and I collapsed onto the bed.

  Our hearts were pounding, and the rise and fall of our chests were rapidly diminishing the amount of oxygen in the room.

  However, neither one of us spoke.

  Kettle just disengaged from my body and pulled me into his side.

  I could tell he was still upset. He was still in his head. But he was holding me.

  I had him, and that was all that mattered right then.

  Chapter 15

  Life’s a bitch and then you die.

  -Silas to Kettle

  Kettle

  Two days later

  2:49 P.M.

  “You good?” Sebastian asked me as we got off our bikes in front of the old warehouse the club owned.

  I shrugged. No, I wasn’t good, but I’d deal. It was harder than hell to leave Adeline earlier, and knowing I’d go home to her with blood staining my hands, made my chest tight.

  I’d do it anyway, though. That sadistic bastard had killed my baby sister. The one who I’d promised to look after forever and always. The one who would never see motherhood. Never walk down the aisle. Never bear a child. Never again give me a call in the middle of the night telling me she needed a ride home from another douchebag’s place.

  Gustavo Amadeus had some explaining and atoning to do, and I was just the make to make sure he received it.

  We were meeting at the warehouse that Sebastian, Loki, and I all had offices at. Where we also held parties at that were too big for our clubhouse to handle.

  Today, we were meeting all the members of the Dixie Wardens at the warehouse before going in for a little discussion. My hope was that we were going to raid Gustavo’s front business, take every single one of his crew, and hopefully, lure Gustavo out in the process. Then, I could show him the business end of my fist. Repeatedly.

  However, Trance and Loki showed us the error of our ways, giving us a better option that would take out every single member of Gustavo’s crew without making The Dixie Wardens have to kill over one hundred people in the process.

  I must’ve taken too long to answer because suddenly Sebastian was in my face, grabbing each side with his mitts and glaring at me. “Are. You. Good?”

  I glared right back at him, but nodded. I was as good as I was going to get.

  “Alright, let’s get this meeting taken care of. I want to eat some leftovers.” Sebastian said dismissively.

  The tone of Sebastian’s voice might have come out sounding blasé, but I knew the man was a live wire, just like me. Sebastian may not have liked Shannon very much, but she was family, and the Dixie Wardens protected their own. God help anybody who fucks with something of ours.

  We might be 99% law abiding, but we didn’t condone disrespect. And we sure as fuck didn’t tolerate a murder of another brother’s blood sister. Not without one hell of a retaliation.

  “Let’s do it.” I agreed.

  ***

  3:15 P.M.

  Adeline

  “Hello?” I answered my phone.

  “Ummm, hi. This is Ray Platt from The Bayou Funeral Home. I’m the one in charge of getting a Ms. Shannon Spada’s funeral planned. I was given this number by your husband, Mr. Tiago Spada? Is that correct?”

  My heart leapt at the mention of being Kettle’s wife, but fell just as quickly when I realized just why he was calling.

  “Yes, that’s me. How can I help you, Mr. Platt?” I asked softly, looking at my toes that were in serious need of a coat of polish.

  “This is quite unusual, but I contacted Mr. Spada since he’s the primary contact. However, we have the deceased’s parents here trying to plan the funeral, and since Mr. Spada advised us to speak with you on the matter, since he was otherwise occupied, I’m calling to see just what you would like us to do. He said, and I quote, ‘Tell her she’s got full sway. Make it pretty, baby.’ Now, what would you like us to do?” Mr. Platt asked.

  I wiggled my toes in the 70’s carpet in the clubhouse’s bedroom that Kettle and I’d stayed the night in, and came to a decision.

  “I’ll be there in less than thirty minutes. Can you stall them?” I asked him.

  “Certainly, Mrs. Spada, I’ll see you momentarily.” He said primly before hanging up.

  I growled in frustration. What kind of parents would disown their own daughter, and then show up to plan her funeral? What sick bastards they must be.

  Then I was shoving my feet into socks, followed by my boots. I made sure to tuck in the pleats of my pants so the boots looked smooth where they met my jeans, and stood. I pulled another piece of borrowed clothing on, this one donated by Trance, much to Kettle’s vexation, and then shrugged my beautiful vest that declared me ‘Kettle’s Property’ over that.

  By the time I exited the bedroom where I was reading my book after a large leftover-filled lunch, I was feeling mean.

  I wanted to kick Kettle’s parents�
� asses. Although it was more like I’d probably just yell at them.

  I was sadly deflated when I made it into the clubhouse’s main room only to find Tunnel, the prospect who was such a sweet man that I still couldn’t see how he fit into this group of bad asses.

  That’s not to say that he probably couldn’t be badass, he just didn’t act like one each and every time I’d been in his company. I was also sure that Kettle’s parents wouldn’t be too intimidated by the man. He was like a sweet, baby cop who’d hesitate on doing anything that might harm someone. However, I had a feeling I could probably convince him to go with me...or at least let me out.

  “Tunnel?” I asked sweetly, stopping just short of batting my eyelashes at him just in case he noticed my ruse.

  He turned around quickly from where he was shoving a fat piece of ham into his mouth the size of a small horse and cocked his head slightly. “Yes?”

  “Uhh,” I hesitated. “I’m in need of a favor.”

  Life has a way of being…tragic.

  A mistake, by definition, is something you do that is misguided or wrong.

  Going to that funeral home was a mistake.

  I should’ve known better. Should have listened to that inner voice begging me to listen to what Kettle had commanded that morning before leaving.

  Don’t go anywhere. No matter what. It’s not safe.

  Why didn’t I listen?

  ***

  3:55 P.M.

  Kettle

  “Why, out of all the places in the world he could use as a front business, did he choose a funeral parlor?” Dixie asked as he shook his head.

  “You got me.” I murmured.

  “Nobody’s going to check out a hearse and coffin for drugs. Hell, most people down here pull the fuck over for a hearse. Some even have police escorts. What better way than that? The man’s a relative genius. I can’t believe I’ve never even thought about that before.” Trance said shaking his head.

  “We doing this in plain sight, or are we going in through the back as not to draw so much attention?”

  I snorted and got off my bike. The bike’s engine ticked as it cooled down from our hard ride over from the warehouse district, making me take a second glance at it and then at the area surrounding us.

  “Fifteen bikers just pulled up in downtown Benton in the middle of the afternoon. It’s safe to say we were noticed.” Silas drawled dryly. “Which was the point, wasn’t it?”

  I ignored them and started to head into the funeral home. Then came to an abrupt halt when a familiar license plate that read 0SPADA0 in a handicapped parking spot near the front of the door caught my eye.

  Mother. Fucker.

  “That’s my folks’ car.” I told Sebastian who was directly behind me.

  Oaths and curses sounded at my admission, and I ran my fingers through the short spiky strip of hair that lined the top of my head.

  “It was a good plan, having The Bayou Funeral Home take care of the funeral arrangements. Never expected your parents to show at the parlor though.” Sebastian observed.

  “Yeah, well they’ve fucked absolutely everything up. Why stop now?” I said as I yanked the front door open.

  Loki’s plan was to call in to the funeral home and ask for them to start the never-ending process of burying my sister as an excuse to be there. Once inside, they’d take over the front, then move to the back where there was an extra 10,000 square feet of space that the fire station didn’t account for.

  Each fire station had blue prints of the local businesses on file in case of a fire so that the on duty captain could plan accordingly. The Bayou Funeral Home’s plan didn’t match up, making it obvious to me and the rest of my club that they had a little extra room unaccounted for, and reason to hide it.

  As a firefighter, that ticked me off. The firefighters that went into burning buildings had a right to know what they were getting themselves into; Gustavo Amadeus was a selfish prick who deserved what was about to come at him.

  Just one more nail in Gustavo’s coffin.

  “This doesn’t change the plan. Does it?” Silas asked as he walked around me and opened the door to the building.

  Sebastian gave me a hard pound on the back as he passed, making my feet come unstuck, allowing me to follow them inside.

  Trance was to come in later with Radar, who would alert Trance to the drugs, effectively signing the warrant that allowed him to search any facility, and take each and every one of Gustavo’s employees into custody. Followed shortly by searching his properties and other businesses for more evidence.

  We just had to get back far enough to provide Radar the opportunity to alert, first.

  Of course, nothing ever works as it should. The best-laid plans always backfire when your father’s the ultimate douche on the planet.

  The first thing I observed was the sickly sweet stench of flowers as we walked into the front room.

  It was elegant with deep maroon and hunter green coloring. There were sedate paintings of forests and bayous, as well as some wildlife moderately interspersed throughout. The carpet was plush and hunter green, allowing my shoes to sink into it as soon as my feet entered the room.

  The desk in the front of the room was covered in fliers of the upcoming viewings happening in the next four hours, as well as a guest list. A woman, all of twenty-five at most, was dressed in a prim black pantsuit with her brown hair styled into a partial up-do that kept the fly-aways out of her face.

  I knew immediately that she hadn’t worked there long. She was too sweet. Her eyes showed every single emotion she was feeling, and right at that moment, it was remorse.

  She didn’t seem to care that fifteen men had entered the room wearing their Dixie Wardens cuts, or that most of them had tattoos that were very colorful. Color and language wise.

  No, her eyes were trained on my father who was in the corner of the god-forsaken room crying about his ‘precious girl’ being gone.

  Of course, it could’ve been genuine. However, he didn’t have the right to that anymore. Not after everything he’d done.

  My mother was sitting down next to my father. Her hands were clutched tightly to her chest, and she’d clocked me as soon as I’d walked in, causing her eyes to widen. Mother’s intuition or some shit.

  She wasn’t crying now, but I could tell by the deep bags underneath her eyes and the paleness to her skin that she had been.

  “Ma’am?” My disgusted voice brought the woman’s attention from my parents to me, and she smiled warmly at me.

  “Can I help you?” She asked me.

  “Name’s Tiago Spada, I’m here to checkout some of the rooms, get some things ironed out before the viewing of my sister in a couple of days.” I told the woman.

  Her eyes widened. “Of course, I’ll be glad to show you the way.” She said as she hustled in the direction of the back room.

  Ignoring the call of my father, I followed, knowing for a fact that my brothers would keep them from following me.

  I didn’t know how I did it so calmly, but I walked behind the pretty woman at a sedate pace as she led us into a back room.

  ***

  Adeline

  “What do you think?” I asked Tunnel, as Mr. Platt walked into a back room to take a phone call.

  Mr. Platt looked so familiar. Like I’d seen him before from somewhere.

  Tunnel’s eyes, which had been on the retreating man’s back, turned to me. “Something isn’t right. Kettle’s parents, although they were upset, didn’t look like they were trying to take over any funeral plans. I tried calling Kettle on the way here, and he didn’t answer, which means that his phone was turned off. They’d told me the phones were going off as they left the parking lot this morning. How was Kettle supposed to relay a message to you if he couldn’t have answered in the first...”

  I was too absorbed in watching the side room where Mr. Platt had disappeared. If I hadn’t been, I might have been able to
tell Tunnel that he had a lead pipe headed towards his head.

  One that was in the hands of my own frickin’ brother.

  “Tunnel!” I exclaimed as he went down like a sack of wheat. “Jefferson! What the fuck, what are you doing?”

  “Quiet,” my brother hissed. “You’re in so much fucking danger that it’s not even funny. I’ve done everything in my power to keep you out of this shit, but you keep shoving your head back in there. Jesus Christ. I don’t even know what the fuck to do anymore.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t understand!” I said as I dropped down to my knees to check Tunnel’s pulse.

  It was strong and steady, allowing me to take a deep breath for the first time since I’d seen him drop.

  “The guy you were talking to is a very dangerous man. Do you know who that was?” He asked as he glanced nervously at the door Mr. Platt had disappeared through.

  Jefferson looked different. Almost...normal for him. What he used to look like before dad died. Although I could still tell he was a little underweight, he wasn’t so sickly looking that I could see his cheekbones. Was he getting clean?

  “Jefferson, what are you doing here? What’s...”

  “Jefferson. Get her in the locker. With any hope they won’t find her and she’ll be dead before anyone’s the wiser. We’ve got company in the parking lot.” Mr. Platt said as he came out of the room he’d disappeared through earlier.

  The haughty, pompous attitude made me realize where I knew him from. He was the man who’d ‘accidentally’ entered my lab the day I’d stayed late catching up on my work.

  It had been such a fleeting moment. He was there one second, and backing out of the door the next, apologizing for interrupting.

  However, now that I thought about it, I’d also seen him at the grocery store a few weeks ago when Kettle had gone down the ice cream aisle. Then again at the phone store when I was paying Viddy’s phone bill.

  I didn’t let on that I realized who he was though, I just stared at him blankly, not even realizing my own brother was about to hit me over the head with a goddamn steel pole until I saw his arm lift in my peripheral vision.