by J. L. Leslie
“That was your choice.”
“You made it for me when you told me I was nothing but a burden!” she screams. “And now Paul is gone, and you’re keeping things from me! You just ruin everything! I hate you! I hate you so much!”
Allie pounds her fists against my chest in frustration, outrage. I let her have a moment before I wrap my arms around her. She struggles against me, but her body sags as she breaks down, her tears soaking through my shirt. I stroke my hand down her back, soothing her. She gazes up at me, her cheeks puffy from crying, nose red. She’s still fucking beautiful. I thumb away her tears, and she sniffles.
Leaning down, I press a kiss to her lips. Nothing greedy or devouring. A soft kiss. Her body tenses again, but she doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t try to get away. She simply stares up at me, and surrenders with one last jab.
“I hate you.”
I capture her mouth and she eagerly returns my kiss. Hauling her against me, I carry her over to my bed, the two of us falling together. I trail kisses from her lips to her neck and down her body, lifting her shirt to kiss her soft stomach and her C-section scar. She tries to push me away, keep me from touching that scar, so I move lower, easing her skirt up and over her thighs.
I slide her panties down and toss them on the floor. I smile when she kicks her shoes off, knowing she isn’t going to fight me on this. I position her legs over my shoulders and then lean down, moving my tongue over her slick flesh and letting the ball of my tongue ring graze against sensitive bud.
She writhes, arching her pussy against my mouth as I feast on her. I lick and suck her sensitive flesh, sliding two fingers inside her hole to finger fuck her. Her thighs clench around my head. Her heels dig into the mattress. I pump faster, flicking my tongue ring over her clit. Her nails skate over my scalp as she grips my hair, her moans music to my damn ears. She cries out as she comes, and I lick her juices, loving her taste.
I sit back and unbutton my jeans, shoving them down over my ass before I reposition between her legs again. I slam all the way inside her and start pumping. Her arms wrap around my neck, legs around my waist. I don’t know where I end, and she begins.
No matter what happens, Allie and I are connected. We have a child together. Nothing will change that. Nothing and no one can take that away from me.
ALLIE
I stand under the shower, letting the water pour down on me. It washes away Hunter’s touch, his kiss. It washes my tears down the drain too.
I’ve ruined everything. Everything I fought to escape, to build. I’m ruining it all because I can’t escape him. I should’ve known better than to come here for help. Should’ve known I wasn’t strong enough to face him again. He’s my kryptonite. I try to resist, try to stay away, but I keep coming back to him.
I turn the water off and get out, grabbing a towel to dry off. Once I’m dressed, I head out to the main room. Hunter is sitting on the couch feeding Wes his bottle. His hair is still mussed from where my fingers were in it. Christ, what was I thinking?
I walk over to where he is and sit in the chair across from him. He looks over at me, his gaze going up and down my body. When he does that type of stuff, I can’t think straight.
“I think it’s best we go back home.”
“The hell you say.”
“Hunter, I don’t want to stay here. We both know we’ll be fine at the house. It’s not me they’re after.”
“How would you know that? You don’t even know who has him.”
“You do, though. And if they wanted Wes and me, they would’ve already gotten us.”
“I’m not willing to take that chance. Not with you and not with him either.”
“When I came here for help, I made it clear I didn’t want our lives uprooted. That’s happened enough already.”
“What really has you worried, Allie? That maybe you’ll stick around here long enough to realize you never should’ve left?”
I don’t want to argue with him. It doesn’t get me anywhere because it’s impossible to win. He won’t be here long. I’m sure he has club business to tend to. Once he leaves, we will too. Because he’s right. The longer I stay here, the more I wish I never left. And no matter how many times I screw up by fucking Hunter, I know that’s all it is. I can’t keep pretending it means more to him.
“Hey, Hunt, we need to run,” Bishop says, slipping on his cut while he walks through. “Mason is already outside, ready to roll.”
He stands up, no hesitation at all, and hands Wes over to me. I sit there and watch as he and Bishop both shove guns into the backs of their jeans and knives into their boots. I know they’re only being prepared. They have to be. Hunter glances over at me as he slips his cut on. Of course, he doesn’t tell me where he’s going or when he’ll be back. Doesn’t tell me not to worry.
“Don’t leave.”
I don’t make any promises. If I don’t leave soon, I’m afraid I never will.
HUNTER
I sit beside Mason, Bishop at his other side, as we wait on Owen to join us. Mason nudges my side. Typically, Jake would be at this meet, but Mason sent him on another job.
“No fucking bloodshed today,” he warns. “This is only a sit down.”
It may only be a sit down, but I’m running out of time to make good on my favor. The Souls aren’t going to keep waiting. And if they start a war, I can guarantee we’ll be dragged into it.
“Gentleman,” Owen says, entering the room. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Mason speaks up. “I see no point in beating around the bush about this, Owen. We got word you’re holding a man here. A man from our side of the territory lines. We want him released.”
“I’m not holding anyone,” he says. “If I did have a man here, a man from your side of the territory lines, perhaps he came willingly.”
“He’s already under contract with another club,” Mason says. “Is he worth starting a war?”
“That depends. How badly do you want him?”
“One shipment,” Mason answers. “The guy for the guns. Alive.”
“No.”
“No? You don’t need to discuss it with your club?” I ask.
“No. We already knew what you would offer. We don’t need guns. That piece of shit knows where my niece is. He isn’t leaving this clubhouse alive until he tells me.”
He waves his hand and two of his men drag in a limp body, dropping him to the floor. His face is covered in blood, his clothes soiled. Mason checks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket.
“Fuck, he’s not worth the guns in that condition,” Mason comments.
“Jesus,” Bishop mutters.
“Oh, he begged for him all right. Then he cried for Allie and Wes.”
I ball my hands into fists at the mention of their names, but Mason stands before I can fully react.
“What makes you think he knows anything about your niece?” I question. “You’ve beaten the shit out of him already, don’t you think he would’ve fessed up?”
All my theories, my thoughts on him working with his brother fly out the fucking window. He would’ve caved after the beating he’s had. Would’ve told them where the girl was. He may be working with the Souls, but he’s not trafficking women for them. Has to be something else.
“He still has some fingers we haven’t broken,” Owen replies with a shrug. “If that doesn’t work, we have other means to get him to talk. Like his precious Allie and Wes.”
I go for my gun, ready to react, but Mason beats me to it. He draws and fires a shot, hitting Owen in the leg. The two guys who brought Paul in move to react, but Bishop and I are faster, firing on them and taking them down.
“Get the guy and let’s get the hell out of here,” Mason orders. Kicking the guns away so they’re out of reach, Mason leans down to Owen. “It didn’t have to be this way.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Owen threatens.
“Oh my God,” a woman’s voice sounds from the door. She stares at us, he
r eyes wide, then she starts to run.
“Shit,” Bishop says, taking off after her.
Mason and I grab Paul and pull him to his feet. He can barely stand, so I carry him outside to the truck and put him in while Bishop wrestles with the woman.
“Bring her! We need to fucking go!” Mason yells.
I go help Bishop, grabbing the woman’s feet. He apologizes right before he whacks her, knocking her out. We take her to the truck, tossing her in the backseat. Mason takes off with Bishop and me right behind him on our bikes.
Bullets fly at us as we speed off, the other Eagles no doubt finding their dead members and wounded President and giving chase.
No fucking bloodshed today. Yeah right.
ALLIE
I watch the new bartender, Robyn, as she follows my instructions on how to make a Bloody Mary. She was struggling with an instruction book, and I took pity, remembering how the guys would fuck with me just to be assholes when I first started bartending. Tell me to make them drinks that didn’t exist and laugh when I would try to find it in the book. Besides, the guys are all outside, so there’s no one present to pick on her for learning.
“That’s it. Try it.”
She takes a sip and nods in delight. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’m doing back here half the time.”
“I get it. Want some other advice?” I ask but don’t wait for her to answer. “Don’t throw yourself at the guys. Well, not unless that’s all you want to be. They’ll just pass you around, and when they’re all tired of you, they’ll put you out. I’ve been around this club a long time and have seen it happen. The ones they like the most are the ones who make it just a little bit difficult.”
I grab a straw and take a sip of the drink she made. Smiling, I give her a thumbs up in approval.
“Incoming!” Skylar yells, rushing inside with Doc following behind her, both carrying containers of medical supplies. “The guys are on the way. There’s been trouble.”
“Oh God,” Robyn mutters. “What do I do?”
“You three go outside with Jake and be on the lookout for them. They’ll need help getting inside,” Skylar orders Dash, Munsey, and Seth.
Doc opens one of the containers and starts spreading out the medical supplies on the bar. I immediately go to assist him, grabbing the other container from Skylar.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“Gunshot wounds.”
“Hunter?”
Skylar’s face goes pale. “He’s been hit, but they’re all alive. Mason took the brunt of the bullets trying to shield them with the truck. Can you get Davina and Lina on the phone and ask them to come? Tell Lina we need Carson here. Just as a precaution.”
“I can do that,” Robyn says. “Do you have their numbers?”
I almost laugh. “I got it, but thank you.”
“You can get some towels and sheets,” Skylar says. “Spread them out on the pool tables and…um, the couch. Yeah, that’ll work.”
As I talk to Davina, I clear the pool tables for Robyn. Davina says she’ll call Lina, so I don’t have to worry about that. When I disconnect, my hands are shaking. Hunter has been hit. Skylar said he’s okay, but she also became very pale when I asked about him.
“Coming in!” Jake hollers as he pushes the door open, Mason slung over his shoulder. “Where do you want him?”
Despite his muscles, Jake struggles to hold him. Mason has a good fifty pounds on him.
“Pool table,” Skylar answers, and Jake carries him over.
I grab a barstool and hurry over to the door, propping it open just in time for Dash to come in with Bishop leaning heavily against him. He’s been shot in the arm, and looks like he took one in the leg. I go to his other side, and he winces in pain as I raise his arm over my shoulders so I can help Dash with him.
“Put him beside Mason,” Doc says.
We manage to get him onto the pool table, and Skylar tosses Dash some towels, telling him to put pressure on the wounds. I grab one from him and apply it to Bishop’s leg while Skylar frantically tries to help Doc stop Mason’s bleeding from two gunshot wounds to his chest.
“How did this even happen?” I ask.
I know I’m asking a rhetorical question. Wherever they went, it didn’t go smoothly. I guess the better question is how in the world they made it home.
“I got Hunt!” Jake yells. “Where do you want him, babe?”
Like Mason, he has Hunter thrown over his shoulder, his shirt soaked in blood, pouring down Jake’s. His body is limp. When Jake lays him down on the other pool table, he’s pale and unconscious.
Fear rips through me at the thought of him not making it through this. At the thought of Wes growing up without his dad. Damn, at the thought of me not having Hunter in my life.
But this is part of club life — the part I hate the most. This not knowing what’s going to happen. The anxiety. The devastation.
“Munsey is bringing in one more,” Jake manages to get out.
“One more? Who else is there? These were the only three who left.”
Jake presses a towel to Hunter’s side, then glances up at me. “Paul.”
The door slams shut, and my head swivels in that direction. Munsey brings Paul in. A woman I don’t recognize follows behind him with her arms crossed, a nice bruise under her left eye.
Paul is conscious, but he’s been beaten pretty badly, one eye swollen shut and what looks like a broken nose. I ache for him, for what’s been done to him. It doesn’t matter why he was gone, he didn’t deserve this.
Munsey takes him to the couch and helps him sit down. The woman goes to sit in the chair as if she’s unsure what to do and where she should go. I have no clue who the hell she is.
“Paul, oh God. You’re okay.” I bend down in front of him, examining his wounds. He winces when I touch his bruises, but none of his wounds appear to be life-threatening. He reaches for my hand, gently squeezing it.
“You sent help. You saved me.”
No. Hunter did. Him and the RBMC. And he’s the one who needs me now. He’s the one who might not get through this. While I’m happy Paul is all right, I slip my hand out of his grasp and take a step back, hoping he understands.
I can’t be with him right now. Can’t sit here and rejoice about his return when Hunter is laying there, barely alive. If he doesn’t survive this, I don’t know what I’ll do. I just know I have to be with him.
“I’m sorry.”
Without waiting for Paul to reply, I rush over to Hunter and take his hand.
“Stay with me.”
HUNTER
I stir awake, the throbbing in my side keeping me from sleeping any longer. I try to move but pain sears through me, so I lay still and stare up at the fucking ceiling of my room. Shit. I got shot.
When we rode off, the Eagles gave chase, bullets fucking flying. Sometimes you just can’t outrun a bullet. We fired back, Mason even tried shielding us with the truck, but their bikes had a lot more speed than our truck. It was a damn battle. For all we know, the Eagles who gave chase are dead. We didn’t exactly go back to check when we stopped getting shot at.
“Hunter?” I look over and see Allie at my side. “You’re awake.”
“Looks like it.” I struggle to swallow, my throat dry, and she hands me a bottle of water. I take a sip and hand it back to her. “How’s Mason and Bishop?”
“Mason is still unconscious, but Doc says he’s going to be fine. Bishop is already up and hobbling around, despite being told to rest. Said he wants pizza.”
“Fucker always wants pizza.”
“You saved Paul,” she says.
“Told you I would.”
Her eyes fill with tears as she reaches over and takes my hand. “You risked your own life to get him.”
“I risked my life for club business,” I correct. “Shit happens.”
I play it off as if it’s no big deal. Nothing to worry about. But when I got hit, I feared I wouldn’t make it home. That I wouldn’t make
it back to Allie. Wouldn’t see my son grow up. It’s what drove me to stay conscious and get to the clubhouse.
She releases my hand. “That’s why I can’t do this.”
I frown at her words. “The fuck are you talking about? Can’t do what, Allie?”
“When you and Paul both came in injured, I came to you. I stayed with you,” she says. “Because the thought of you not making it, of me living the rest of my life without you, wasn’t something I could bear.”
I grab her hand again, squeezing it. “You and Wes are what got me here.”
“I’m glad we did,” she says, softly smiling, tears streaking down her cheeks. “But I don’t want to live like this. Don’t want to worry about if you’re going to make it home. I don’t ever want to see you like that again.”
“You’re going back with Paul, aren’t you?” I ask, and she gives a subtle nod. “What is so different about him and what he’s doing? He’s working with the Souls. You think what happened to him won’t happen again?”
“Things will be different after this,” she vows, ignoring my accusation.
“So, this is it? The two of you can go back to your happy little lives in the suburbs?”
“Don’t you get it?” she asks, sniffling. “I can’t wait around for that phone call about you. That call to tell me it’s all over.”
And I don’t want her to ever have to face that. I’ve seen the destruction it has on a life, to know your man isn’t coming back home. It doesn’t change the fact that I want Allie.
“Fuck, Allie, you think I want that call to be made? Risks are part of this life. Pain is part of this life, but dammit, I think we’re worth that.”
She leans over and presses a kiss to my forehead, her way of saying goodbye. I’m not having that shit. Ignoring the pain in my side, I grab her and pull her down so I can capture her lips. She melts against me, her tongue dancing with mine.
If I could physically handle it, I’d have her on top of me, riding my cock. This kiss is not goodbye. Not by a long shot.