The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3)

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The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3) Page 25

by Bink Cummings


  Quietly, Gunz shrugs off his cut and tugs his black tee over his head, laying them nicely on the table before approaching Big’s naked body. His boots scuff the concrete floor with each heavy step. It sends a shiver of unease up my spine and goose flesh to sprout down my exposed arms and shorts covered legs. The hairs on the back of my neck stand attention, just as my hands instinctively seek to cradle my daughter, centering myself.

  Gunz makes two steady circles around Big and stops at his far side, leaving us a full view of his heavily tatted, muscled abs, pecs, and indented hips. My eyes drift over the both of them taking in the scene. Gunz’s jeans ride low, allowing the brim of his blue boxers to poke over the top. Unable to control myself, my eyes slide to Big and down to his heavy balls that hang under his long, fat, flaccid cock, as it dangles exposed between his slightly parted thighs.

  Big must see where my attention is aimed because his cock jerks, stiffening a fraction, and he clears his throat with a rough cough. I break my eyes from his masculine beauty to focus on Gunz. He’s flexing fists at his sides.

  “No face, no cock and balls, no kidneys,” Gunz rattles off.

  “Game on, brother,” Big replies with a gravelly growl.

  Loosening his shoulders by shaking them out, and cracking his neck from side to side, like a boxer, Gunz prepares himself. “I hit. You do what ya gotta do,” he states.

  Both of my brothers move closer to me, boxing me in. I’m not sure if it’s for support or to hold me back. Neither of them touch me. They give me room to breathe, and for that I’m grateful. I’m already tense enough without them making it ten times worse.

  Gunz stops moving, and somehow the air in the shed floods with my apprehension and Big’s raw need. I could almost cut it with a fork.

  Cradling my belly, teeth clenched, heart racing, arms trembling, I hold onto our daughter for dear life, watching in slow agonizing motion as Gunz raises his adorned fist and brings it down, plowing into Big’s left pec. The sickening sound and sight of fist meeting hard flesh tears at my insides.

  Big blows out a choked lungful of air as a small scream erupts in my mouth, and I wince, turning away, unable to watch the rest play out. This is too fucking much.

  “I’m….sorry,” he wheezes, stops, takes a deep breath, and coughs raggedly before trying again. “I’m sorry for sleepin’ around…..with….all those… women. When I shoulda…only… been… sleepin’ with… you,” he staggers, voice raw with emotion.

  “It’s over with,” I reassure him on a whisper, my eyes focused downward.

  We can’t have this go on all day. I don’t know how many of those hits his body can take or how many I can withstand hearing and seeing. I’ve got to come up with something. Fuck… did you see his skin ripple like jelly under impact? Just the memory of it makes me shudder.

  Moments pass, as I try to wrap my mind about what is actually happening. The room turns eerily quiet, giving me time. Or that’s what I think they’re doing. The only sound that reverberates between these walls is Big’s heavy breathing, mingled with the undertones of everyone else’s.

  There’s only one decision to be made to get through this without falling apart. For the sake of coming clean to truly lay everything on the table to start fresh to let him prove himself, I’ve got to try and be strong..

  I stand up straight and force myself to look at Big. Hesitantly, I take in his body from his sweat that’s made the edges of his loose hair cling to his forehead to the glassy look of his pained eyes. I look all the way down to…. I take a sharp breath… his chest. It’s bright red and swollen where Gunz punched him. You can see the indentations of where the knuckles met his thick flesh. The blood underneath the skin has bubbled to the surface, and it looks painful.

  Shaking my head, I break away from his chest and move my eyes to meet his. I try to smile, to reassure him that I’m here for the long haul, but I know it falls short. It’s impossible for me to smile at a time like this. I shouldn’t even have tried.

  “Big,” I call out to him. “I’m not angry that you slept with those other women.” He needs to know that. I’m not, not anymore. Not after today or even before this. That’s in the past. Why he still feels he needs to apologize for something like that is stupid.

  If this is what I’m gonna have to endure alongside him, I’m not sure I’m comfortable doing this in the presence of my brothers. No offense to them, but this is between a man and his woman. Or in this case between Big and me. Prying ears can catch the show outside or not at all, which would be my preference.

  It’s time for me to control this situation in the only way I can. I might not be able to talk Big or Gunz out of this. I can do what’s right, and that’s hearing Big out without my brothers.

  “Jizz, Brew,” I turn my head from side to side. “No offense, but I need ya to leave. Stay outside if you must, but this is personal shit between us. Shit that has nothing to do with you.” My voice sounds stronger than I anticipated, and my point is driven home when Big lowly growls his approval. My heart slams in my chest at his acknowledgement. He doesn’t have to say it. I can feel it. Big’s proud of me.

  Jizz puts his hand on my shoulder and I sideways glance at him, meeting his eye. “If ya need me, I’ll be outside. I’m proud of ya,” he presses a kiss to my temple before releasing me and heading to the door. “Good luck,” he calls over his shoulder on his way out and closes the squeaky door in his wake.

  I turn my attention to Brew, who’s frowning severely at me, brows furrowed, eyes intense. “I don’t think I should leave,” he blurts.

  That’s not what I expected him to say. “Why?” I regard him, watching his body language. He’s on edge and pissed. Knowing that his temper is the worst out of my siblings, this is not a good sign.

  “Brew. Leave,” Big commands.

  The air in the shed thickens tenfold.

  Dammit, Big.

  Sure, go right ahead and make shit worse. If only he could learn to keep a tight lid on his control issues, we’d all be better for it. He needs to trust me to handle this.

  Brew swings his eyes, and his fury at a restrained Big. “You expect me to be okay with any of this fuckin’ shit?!” he booms.

  Gunz steps forward, acting as a human barrier between my brother and Big. He focuses his attention on Brew, twirling a fresh sucker in his mouth. He pops it out and points it at Brew, “You’re outta line, brother. This has nothin’ to do with you.”

  “Sure it does,” Brew shoots back. “It has plenty.”

  “Don’t,” Big warns.

  “Don’t, what?” Brew tests, being a ridiculous asshole. “Tell my sister what my father fuckin’ told me and Jizz yesterday? Or what happened on our run? Or how about the blonde at the bar, Big? Don’t want me to tell her about that either?” Brew barks a harsh laugh, head tilted at the ceiling.

  “That’s rich,” he continues, returning to eye level. “Ya want me in here for support ‘cause we all know ya don’t want Deke in here with her. Do ya?”

  Gunz takes a threatening step towards Brew, as Big yanks on his chains. “Let me down, Gunz. I’m gonna kill him if he says another fuckin’ word!”

  I take a step to the side away from the men. My back brushes against some rakes and other yard tools.

  They’re big boys and can handle this on their own. I know that look in Gunz’s eye, and it’s not a good one. I love my brother; he’s a good man. I know he means well, and I’m very curious to know what in the fuck he’s hinting at. I can’t focus on that shit right now. That glistening of barely restrained fury in Gunz’s eyes is a very bad thing. Gunz is the most levelheaded man I’ve ever met, and I’ve only ever seen him get this way a handful of times in my entire life. If Brew doesn’t shut the hell up and leave, I know that Gunz will unleash on him. And it ain’t gonna be pretty.

  “Brew,” Gunz takes another step. “This ain’t none of your fuckin’ business. If Bink asked ya to leave, you leave.”

  Another step. “If you don’t get the
hell outta here in the next thirty seconds, you’re gonna be eatin’ through a straw and shittin’ in a bag for the rest of your life,” Gunz threatens, loosening up his shoulders again, getting prepared. Jaw clenched. Eyes wild.

  “Brew,” I interject lightly, and all eyes swing to me. Gunz stops moving. That’s a good sign. “I trust that Big is gonna tell me everything. If he doesn’t, you can fill me in. But ya gotta give the man a chance. Why else do you think he’s in here? If not to try and make some sorta amends,” I try to reason with him.

  “I get that, but I don’t see why it’s gotta be some dramatic show. Can’t he just tell ya?” he replies.

  I raise questioning brow, “Do you think I’d actually listen?”

  Brew seems to contemplate that for a beat before answering. “I don’t see why not,” he shrugs.

  Seems he doesn’t know me as much as he thinks he does.

  Big must be thinking the same thing as me when he snorts, amused. “You don’t think I’ve tried gettin’ through to her? Every time I think I’m makin’ progress, she locks up, and her bitch comes out. Would you wanna deal with her biker-bitch side when you’re balls deep in her pussy?”

  Brews face blushes crimson while contorting in disgust, “I wouldn’t wanna deal with any side of her if it involves my dick.”

  Oh my fuck! They walked themselves right into that one.

  Covering my mouth with my hand, I stifle a laugh. Gunz chuckles hardily. I catch Big rolling his eyes, exasperated, “Ya know what I meant.”

  Brew nods and coughs to restrict his own laughter. “Yeah, I get you.”

  Thanks to the unintended humor, the testosterone bomb has seemed to defuse itself. So I take this as my cue to walk over to Brew and give him a hug. “You’re a damn good big brother, but I’ve got this shit locked down. No worries. Gunz’s got me if I need anything,” I say to his firm chest, my nose brushing the cotton. He smells nice.

  Brew’s arms tighten around me and his lips find my hair, “I don’t want any more of this bullshit for you. You’ve had to deal with mom and now this. Enough is fuckin’ enough,” he says as kisses the top of my head.

  I kiss his chest before pulling away and holding him at arm’s length, my hands still touching his sides. My head tilts up to smile at him, “I’m gonna be okay, promise.” I grab hold of his cut and yank him into another hug. We embrace for moment before I release him and say a quick goodbye.

  Brew doesn’t address his Prez or VP when he passes them exiting the shed. The loud squeak of the door shutting signals we’re alone. Or as alone as we’re gonna be with a group of bikers outside the shed keeping watch.

  Gunz nabs a white bucket from under the table and dusts it off with his hands before he brings to it me. He sits it on the ground at my feet and taps the top. “Sit, let’s get this over with.”

  Can’t it already be done with? I feels like we’ve been at this for hours. I’m pretty sure I’ve aged five years in the past ten or fifteen minutes.

  “Thanks,” I mutter, accepting the proffered makeshift stool and taking a much needed load off. The ridges of the bottom dig into my ass cheeks. I shift, trying to get comfortable. Doesn’t work. It’s stand and exhaust myself or sit and have my ass hurt. Ass hurting it is.

  As Gunz readies himself once again at Big’s side, I decide I’ll start talking. It’s the only way to get what’s needed out in the open. Big says I won’t let him in. I get it. He’s right. I can’t tell you how many times he’s expressed his love and affection for me, only to have me deny the same in return. I get that it’s one sided. I hate to say it, but that’s a fact. So, as I see it, I’m at a crossroads here. Big’s hell-bent on proving himself this way, whether I’m here or not. This leaves me with only two choices— endure the pain of watching my old man get his ass handed to him, naked, arms stretched above his head like a damn criminal or I can actively participate, while he has his ass handed to him. I’ll just have to suck it up, listen, respond, and try like hell not to cry any more. God knows I’ve cried enough in the past year to last a lifetime. It’s time to put on a brave face, even if I’m falling apart inside. Wish me luck.

  “Just so you understand, I don’t hold any of your past fucks against you. And I don’t think you should feel guilty about them either,” I express to Big, who’s watching me on my makeshift stool, where my knees are bent and spread, to keep balanced. I’m slightly hunched over as my forearms rest on my thighs. This is too fucking uncomfortable. Screw it. I slide off the bucket to sit next to it on the dirt covered floor.

  Big grumbles his dislike, “Ya need a chair.”

  “A chair for a beating? Hmm,” I move to tap my finger on my chin and shake my head. “I think not.”

  “Gunz,” Big’s demanding tone says it all—Get my woman a chair.

  Legs crossed on the floor, I toss my arms over my chest. “Don’t, Gunz. Big doesn’t have this say. I do. And I choose to sit on the floor.” I squirm my short covered ass on the concrete to drive my point home.

  Gunz swaps looks between us, shakes his head, and flashes me a wink and tiny grin, “I swear you two are gonna be the death of each other. Do you ever agree on anything?” he teases.

  “Sometimes,” I blurt. “When he doesn’t wanna inflict damage to his perfect body. God knows he’s got enough scars already. Many I’ve tended to.”

  “You think I have a perfect body?” Big blurts. And if that’s not disbelief in his voice, I don’t know what is.

  Teasingly, I roll my eyes and flash him a look to convey how much I think he’s lost his damn mind. “Of course I do, you’re fucking hot.”

  Apparently, Big really likes my compliment and so does his cock when it twitches, as his mouth tips into a shy grin. His cheeks flush. Aww, he really can’t take compliments, can he? That’s damn adorable.

  “It’s true, honey, you’re sexy in all ways to me. Even tied up there,” I nod to the beam. “I may not like what you’ve decided on, ‘cause it hurts me to see you this way. But that doesn’t mean I find you any less attractive.”

  Dear Lord, I can’t believe I’m actually telling him this. Sure, I’ve said a few things here or there about my feelings. Just not to this extent. This is taking some real willpower for me to get through.

  Obviously uncomfortable with my decree, Big ignores what I’ve said and grumbles, “Let’s do this” to Gunz.

  Gunz bows his head and shuffles around to Big’s backside where he’s hidden behind his giant form.

  Big stands tall, readying himself, determined eyes facing forward.

  This is it.

  I brace myself, swallowing through the knot in my throat and squeeze my fists, bringing them to my lap, under my belly. Fuck, I hope this is over soon.

  ‘Crack!’ The vulgar thud of metal impacting bone reverberates in the shed, as Gunz plows his fist into Big’s back. Wallowing in my own internal agony, I try not to scream for him. I watch in silence as Big expels a rush of air through his flaring nostrils with his face red, forehead taut, eyes wincing, and neck strained. Grinding his jaw, he draws a sharp intake of air through his nose.

  “I,” he painfully grinds out. His breathing labored. “I’m sorry…..fuck,” Big squeezes his eyes closed and swallows hard. I watch as his throat constricts.

  Why does he do this? It’s obvious that Gunz isn’t going to go easy on him. I can tell he’s in real pain. He just refuses to show it. My man’s in pain, and there isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it! Son of a fucking bitch, this hurts my heart! I reach up and rub my sternum.

  “You whole?” Gunz peeks his head around Big. “Bink.”

  I wave him off and bob my head with false reassurance. No, I’m not alright. My heart actually hurts. There is nothing right about what is going on right now. Nothing!

  “I,” Big tries again as the color in his face turns back to normal. “I’m sorry I told ya I killed Pretzel and put you through all that grief, Babe. I know how much ya love your pup.” Big holds my gaze, pouring sincerity through
every hoarse word.

  This is yet another reason I don’t think he should feel sorry. That’s in the past. He needs to get this through this thick skull.

  “Big, I’m not mad about that. There is nothing to be sorry for. I’m over it. That’s the past. Pretzel’s an even better pups than he was before. If anything, you did me a favor. And ya kept him even after I left. So it should be me thanking you, not you apologizing,” I explain as soft and affectionately as possible, and pray that it sinks in.

  It doesn’t.

  Big shifts his eyes away and frowns. Then he orders Gunz to continue.

  The next hit smashes. I can’t see the impact, but I quickly close my eyes as soon as I see Big’s legs begin to buckle underneath him, while he breathes heavily though the sudden onslaught of pain. The chains rattle violently, echoing in my ears. A sound that I know I will remember for years to come.

  Moments pass before the sounds of the chains clanking and bare feet slapping the floor finally cease. The room grows silent once more. This time, I welcome it. It’s better than knowing your man is struggling to stand, and there isn’t anything you can do except let him be.

  “I’m….sorry…. for not protecting you from your mother,” Big forces out this time, and I keep my eyes closed. I don’t know if I can open them until this is over. Chewing my inner cheek, I try to ebb the tension that consumes me as the violence ensues.

  Another hit. More heavy breathing, more chains thrashing, more pain.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  My heart thumps erratically in my chest, and my own breathing becomes labored as my skin slickens with sweat. Between punches, I brave a few glances at my old man as he’s beaten down. With each punch both to his front and back, he becomes ragged, body draining of color, cloaked in sweat. Ugly bruises form under the skin, and some ooze bright red blood.

  By the seventh punch, the tears I wish wouldn’t form do. They well in my eyes, making my heart break just a little more. I try to speak, but I’m afraid. I wanted to remain strong. I wanted to do this for him. But look at him…. hanging there, arms sagging, fighting through his own pain, his own inner demons, his own guilt. And for what? To tell me he’s sorry for fucking Niki? Does he deserve a hit for that? Once upon a time, I might have thought so. Not anymore. Does he deserve a beat down for locking me in his basement? Or for fucking Linda and using her as a replacement? No. None of it deserves this kind of punishment.

 

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