His Crime

by Debra Kayn

  Cam walked out to his motorcycle, nodded at those members going on the run with him, and rode away from the house. Christina failed to understand how he devoted his life to the club where death, destruction, and greed played a part of their everyday lives. His motive to stay alive came from wanting to keep the bad things in life from touching her again.

  Some men went to a full-time job and worked nine to five to support a family. At night, those same men came home to relax and unwind. For him, he never let his guard down. If he eased back, someone would make him pay.

  He shut off his concern over Jeremy and pushed Christina out of his head. For the rest of the night, he needed to focus on coming off the gun chain alive.

  Twenty minutes later, he stopped the Moroad members at their destination on Nine Mile Road. Silence invaded as the last motorcycle cut its engine. He'd used the same location for the exchange of guns for the last three years without any problems.

  Tension tightened his shoulders. Give him a cellblock full of angry men, clanging bars, shouting profanities, and moving restlessly, he'd still hear a shank pulled out from underneath a one-inch mattress three cells down. But, he couldn't hear a damn thing outside in the low hum of silence, the crickets, and the wind blowing through the pine trees peppering the side of the road.

  Cam stepped off his motorcycle, his forty-caliber in his right hand. He breathed in slowly and quietly let the air out. Slowing his heart rate, he scanned the area. Unless Reds trekked through the heavily wooded area on each side of the road, the only way in was by road.

  Rich walked to the edge of the asphalt and studied the trees. "Something is off."

  Cam walked twenty paces farther up the road and concentrated on the sounds. Alert and ready, he held Rich's opinion. Something was different.

  "The light's out," Mayor said.

  Cam turned around. "What light?"

  Mayor pointed to the east. "There's no house for a mile in both directions, but I always noticed the light shining at the top of the ridge at the mine site. It's not on tonight."

  "What the fuck would that have to do with us?" Mister spit on the ground. "We're early, that's all. You pussies are worried over nothing. We're out in fucking nowhere. You're going to hear them coming. They don't stand a chance at overtaking us."

  "Enough shit, everyone keep your head." Cam pulled out his cell and checked the time. "Two minutes. We're not staying a second later. If Blues miss the exchange, they'll owe us."

  Cam walked back to his motorcycle. The others circled their president. He never asked for their protection. Everyone naturally gravitated toward someone he could trust and seek support. Whether for their own security or a higher power, his men looked up to him.

  He wouldn't let them down.

  The gun chain was his legacy.

  He'd controlled the idea, the logistics, and the production. His men protected him in exchange for money, freedom, and a purpose to their pathetic lives.

  Their livelihood came first. He trusted no one. Each member at one time or another thought about taking over control from him and leading Moroad MC. They challenged, they pushed, they rebelled. Always testing their power and memorizing Cam's reaction in hope they could use his weakness against him someday.

  Except Cam wasn't afraid of dying or going to prison for life and that alone made him different from everyone else.

  Rash held up his hand. "Listen up."

  Cam opened his mouth, letting the air out of his lungs quietly. In the distance, the hum of a car grew closer.

  "It's Blues." Rich whistled low. "They're right on time."

  The car's lights showed up down the road. Cam gripped the handle of his pistol. Five minutes more and they'd be on the road. One hour, they'd hand off the unmanufactured weapons to another crew from Blues in Spokane, and the delivery to the west coast would be out of Moroad's hands.

  "Everyone stand back, stay alert, and wait for the prearranged phrase." Cam walked the road alone, pistol in his hand at his side, and kept his gaze away from the blinding headlights.

  Bull Dog stepped out of the driver's seat. Cam's relief over a Blue's member greeting him died a swift death knowing Bull Dog's penchant for young boys and his willingness to do whatever anyone asked of him.

  Two more Blues members stepped out of the car and stayed on the passenger side. At once, Cam took in their posture, their movements, and moved the exchange forward.

  "What's the gas mileage for a car like that?" Cam asked the prearranged question.

  "Thirty—"

  The report of Cam's pistol going off caught the second Blues members by surprise as Bull Dog hit the ground. Cam's aim shifted to the closest man.

  "Don't move." Cam listened to his men approaching behind him, knowing each of them had the Blues members targeted and the men covered.

  "Man, you killed Bull Dog." The man clasped his hands on the top of his afro. "What the fuck you do that for?"

  Cam stepped forward out of the beam of the headlights. "Who are you working for?"

  "Boss..." The man cleared his throat. "Miller."

  Cam looked at the other man. "And you?"

  "Miller." The second man's baseball cap hid his face.

  "We have a problem." Cam walked to the left, circling the two men and forcing them to step back against the car. "I want to know who Bull Dog worked for."

  The second guy lowered his hands. "He's one of us. Miller's his boss."

  Cam pulled the trigger. The hat flew off the man and he could finally see what remained of his face before he hit the ground dead.

  "Jesus Christ," said the last man standing alive. "What the hell you doing to us?"

  "I asked Bull Dog a preapproved question that required a specific answer Miller would've provided him with. The answer he should've given was twenty-fucking-two. Bull Dog wasn't scheduled to come on this exchange. I want to know who he worked for."

  The man shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, man. Boss, he told me to come on the ride. Bull Dog, he said Smitty asked him to trade places. I'm telling the truth, man. This is my first run. Boss is going to kill me."

  "I'll save him the work." Cam pulled the trigger.

  The man dropped to his knees, gurgling. Cam stared down at the whites of his eyes and said, "Get the keys off of Bull Dog and get the duffels. We've wasted too much time already. Kev and Willy?"

  "Yeah?" they both said behind him.

  "You know the drill. Clean up the mess and deliver the car with the bodies over the Montana line." Cam walked to the back of the car, picked out a bag, and carried it to his motorcycle.

  The men worked in silence. Cam took a new magazine out of the satchel on his bike and replaced it for the one with three less bullets. They rode off single file, Cam leading the way. Bull Dog never leaned away from Blues during his stays in prison. Loyal to a fault, they protected him. So, why in the hell had Bull Dog turned on them tonight?

  Cam rounded the corner on the rural road, hugging the bike on the white line at the blind turn. A flash of orange caught his attention before the sound reached him. He pressed on his front and back brakes, locking the motorcycle and skidding to a stop off the side of the road. Using his motorcycle as a shield, he returned shots to the area where he last saw the flash.

  "One down," Merk yelled.

  Cam's pistol clicked, he reached inside his boot and removed his other gun. In a space of a second, car lights flipped on and circled over his head. He ducked, emptying the bullets out of the magazine on the fleeing vehicle as it kicked up gravel and fishtailed out of sight.

  "Fuck," he muttered, standing up.

  Rich hurried over. "Merk needs you. I'll cover the road."

  Cam watched Rich jog around the bend and disappear into the night. Bull Dog turned on Blues and decided to work for Reds, and the ambush he expected came. It didn't matter the reason why. Three men were dead at his hand and there'd be retaliation.

  He walked along the shoulder of the road and found Merk squatted do
wn beside Mayor. Cam took in the dark spot growing on Mayor's chest. A geyser of blood bubbled from Mayor's open mouth. Vacant eyes stared up at the sky.

  God damn, son of a bitch. Mayor walked away from a lifetime sentence and only enjoyed freedom for a short time. A good man.

  "Put him down. He's bleeding out. Merk, stay behind and when Kev and Willy are done cleaning up the other mess, I want you three to give Mayor a proper burial with words." Cam turned away from the destruction.

  Six paces away, the gunshot ending Mayor's suffering echoed in the night.

  Cam kept walking. Mayor paid his dues to the club with his life. He was free. Finally free.

  Chapter Twenty

  A click of an opening door startled Christina. She jumped from the recliner and hurried into the living room, almost running into Cam.

  Cam grabbed her arms, lifting her to her toes, and claimed her mouth. There was nothing gentle or exciting about the kiss. It was savage and dominating. She pushed. He pulled. The early morning hour, the lateness of Cam coming home, the lack of sleep fed her confusion and clarity dawned on her.

  She ripped her mouth away from him. "I didn't hear you come home."

  "I rolled the motorcycle down the driveway to the yard, because I didn't want to wake you," he said.

  "Why? What happened?"

  Cam held on to her. "I need you."

  She walked backward, unable to deny him. He only shut down when he needed her. Whatever happened tonight upset him.

  Inside the bedroom, she brushed his vest off his shoulders. Her desire for him came not from arousal. That would come later. He'd make her feel wonderful, because he'd demand she give him everything. Her need came from wanting to please and comfort him.

  She wanted to ease him back to her from wherever he'd gone. Every time he lost himself to the club, she pulled him back to the man she loved. The man who concentrated on the moment and never worried about the future.

  Then, and only when she pulled him back from whatever took him away from her, his love for her brought her arousal. It wasn't mediocre or bad, just different. Different was good. Different was addicting.

  Cam's flannel shirt she'd worn to sleep in hit her at the thighs. She had nothing on to stop his fingers from pushing apart her legs. He grunted. "No panties."

  "Jeremy's asleep and I waited for you."

  His fingers teased the edge of her lips, circling her sex in slow, tantalizing brushes, each stroke moving closer to her clit. She quivered on an inhale. His dark, intense gaze, pooled with arousal. The excitement of seeing him replace his personal pain with need grounded her. She stared back into his eyes, her eyelids closed slightly as he confidently ran his finger over the nub.

  "Look at me."

  She blinked, focusing on his face. "Okay."

  His finger slipped into her wetness and he cupped her sex. Stimulated, she held on to his upper arms. Her body's reaction made it impossible to ask him the questions hovering at the edge of her thoughts. Maybe distracting her was his intent.

  He always had a reason for what he did. He never clued her in or gave her any warning. Somehow, in the end, she accepted his decisions.

  He put his thumb on her clit, applying soft pressure that changed with each plunge of his middle finger inside of her. She clung to his arms. Her arousal burned warmer, higher, tighter.

  Cam watched her eyes. Pleasure curled in her lower stomach, growing with each second. She leaned into his hand. All her energy merged and she thrust her hips.

  He pulled every emotion out of her. She couldn't concentrate. She could barely keep her eyes open.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, pulling his beard. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Her thighs quivered and she pressed harder against him, unashamed at her response. She wanted to come.

  Cam pulled on the front of her shirt and tugged. She gasped. Her breast popped out from the shirt.

  "I want to stay here." He inhaled sharply. "You're looking at me like I'm good."

  She panted. "You're scaring me."

  What happened to make him worried about leaving? What took him so long to get back to her? Did he do something to jeopardize his freedom? Would he leave her alone?

  "Keep looking at me, baby," he whispered. "Don't stop thinking I'm good."

  "I-I won't." She bucked against his hand.

  Desperate to know the answers and weak against the intense hunger he drew out of her, she orgasmed hard. She shut her eyes against the blistering wave of pleasure. She moaned, her legs convulsing around his hand. The stroke of his thumb on her clit softened, barely grazing her, pulling her pleasure out longer and more powerful. She hummed, holding on to her climax, until finally her thoughts brought her back around to Cam.

  She opened her eyes and found him watching her. He reached for his belt, undoing his jeans. Finding her strength, she straightened and shifted positions, pushing him down until he sat on the edge of the bed.

  He pulled his cock out of his jeans. She moistened her lips.

  "Keep looking at me." He pulled her closer, hooking his hand behind her knee and placing it on the bed beside him. Then he repeated the same move with her other leg until she straddled his lap.

  She thrust her fingers into his hair and let him guide her down, impaling her with his cock. Her moan sang with his groan.

  "Oh, God, you feel good," she whispered.

  She slid up and down. His hands held her ass, dictating her movements in a way she knew he liked, because every stroke rebuilt her own pleasure until she panted and tried to fight him to go faster.

  Heat rolled off of Cam's body. She held on, grinding against him every time her sex touched down on him.

  "Say it," he mumbled, never letting up.

  "I love you."

  He gripped her ass, squeezing her cheeks instead of replying. He never returned her words, but she knew without a doubt that he returned her feelings.

  She leaned back, resting her hands on his knees and arched her back. His gaze went between them, greedily soaking in the sight of his cock in her pussy. He held on to her, driving his hips up, practically coming off the bed with each plunge.

  "Baby," he whispered.

  "Tell me," she whispered back.

  His chin lifted and he gazed at her. "It'll be okay."

  She nodded, because there was nothing else she could say or do. He'd do whatever he wanted, and she trusted him to protect her heart.

  He gripped her hips, bringing her forward and holding her still. He groaned his release. His legs trembled underneath her. She sagged against him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  Instead of letting her go, he kept her there on his lap, wrapped around him.

  She held him and murmured, "I love you."

  He held her tighter.

  She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. Going without sleep, the mental strain of Jeremy returning, the fear of what Cam struggled through, she physically couldn't move. Safe in his arms, she wanted to ignore what awaited them when he removed his body from hers and morning came.

  His cock slipped out of her. She shivered. Her comfort zone interrupted.

  "I'm going to grab a shower." Cam kissed her neck.

  She whispered, "You should sleep for a few hours. The sun is already up."

  He shook his head and helped her off his lap. "No time. The guys will be here soon."

  "Already?" She closed the shirt Cam had ripped open and hugged her waist. "What happened last night?"

  "Nothing for you to worry about." Cam grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a pair of boxers from the dresser.

  "You were gone eight hours." She walked over and pulled out clean clothes for herself. "You said you'd only be gone three."

  "Shit came up." He walked out of the room. "If you want a shower, you can take one with me."

  She followed him to the bathroom, stripped out of her shirt, and squeezed into the running shower. While she formulated her own reasons for his delay, she stood at the end of the tub wh
ile Cam washed his hair, his body, and stepped out without talking.

  She went through the motions of washing. By the time she'd dressed, brushed her wet hair, put on mascara, and walked out to the living room, Cam had already left the house. She peeked out the front window. The Moroad members stood in her yard surrounding Cam.

  "Is he here?"

  Christina yelped, dropped the curtain, and whirled around. "God, you scared me to death."

  "Why?" Jeremy ran his hands through his tangled hair. "Did you forget about me already?"

  She scoffed. "No, of course not. Do you want some breakfast?"

  "Is it my last meal before I'm killed?" Jeremy said.

  "You know what?" She stepped over in front of him and poked his chest. "I've had it with your attitude. You want to be pissed off at the world, fine. But, don't take it out on me."

  Jeremy sneered and shook his head. "Right," he mumbled.

  That condescending answer reminded her of Cam. Her muscles tightened and she raised her voice. "Who do you think kept everyone from hunting you down and following club rules? It was me. Every single one of them put the club first. You signed the contract. You knew what would happen when you ran away, and you did it anyways. Did you call? Did you try and talk this out? Did you even think of what you were doing to me?"

  Her heart pounded and her eyes stung. She gasped, catching sight of Cam standing in the foyer. Her own voice echoed in her ears. She hadn't meant to yell.

  Jeremy looked away from her. She gazed at Cam, begging him to do something. Out of her realm of mothering an eighteen-year-old man, she had enough anger inside her to explode. She failed to understand how someone could sign away their life and not have a way out. The Moroad contract was worse than a prison sentence. At least incarcerated the prisoner eventually got out on good behavior.

  "You lied to me," Jeremy whispered, unaware of Cam behind him. "He lied to me."

  She swallowed, her anger leaving her at the sound of Jeremy's broken voice. "I know. I'm sorry, and if you let us explain to you—"

  "What's there to say, huh?" Jeremy's defiant and pained gaze met hers. "He's not my dad. He stole me from the state, and you were a part of it. You want me to forget everything and continue living in a family that illegally gained custody of me."