I walk up to her and look into her blue eyes, not lifeless yet, but dulled. One day she’ll have completely dead eyes, especially if she stays here long enough.
“You ever been fucked in the ass, sweetie?” I ask her, my eyes staying focused on her.
“Once,” she whispers before she licks her bottom lip nervously.
“We’ll make it good for you. Her and me,” I promise as I run my thumb over her thin bottom lip.
“How,” she whispers shakily.
“You’ll see,” I grin before I press my lips to hers.
I spend the next several hours exhausting myself, and the two whores, completely out. I decide not to kick them out quite yet, I might want to fuck one, or both, of them later. Usually they get booted out right after I come, but tonight I might need more physical relief. I close my eyes and will myself to sleep, all I need is a few hours.
What feels like minutes later, I crack my eyes open to find two arms slung over me. One across my chest and the other across my stomach. They belong to two separate women, and I cringe at the thought of letting them stay in my bed until morning. Not something I would ever do, normally. Last night I was beyond hammered; I don’t even remember everything that happened. I blacked out right after I fucked the cute little blonde’s ass.
“Up,” I murmur as I throw their arms off of me, earning nothing but moans and groans.
“Get your asses up,” I grunt a bit louder. I smack each of them on their bare asses, hard, watching the immediate handprints form on their skin.
“What the hell?” blondie shrieks as she rubs her ass.
“Up and out,” I bark, immediately regretting it. It makes my head pound.
The girls grumble and mumble but eventually leave me alone. I sit on the edge of the bed, naked, with my head in my hands—not because of my screaming hangover, but because the memories all flood back.
Brentlee—bruised. My guilt feels like a heavy brick in my gut. It’s all because of me. She’s being hurt because of me.
Because I left her. I pushed her away.
She won’t leave him. Women in those situations never do. I know. I tried to make my mom leave time after time, and she refused every single one. No matter how much she agreed that it wasn’t right, that he wasn’t right. Brentlee will be no different. She’ll either live her life barely surviving, or she’ll die by his hand, and there’s nothing I can do to save her.
I can’t save anybody.
All I do is destroy.
I pick up the empty bottle of Jack and throw it across the room, watching it shatter against the wall—feeling nothing.
Present Day
Brentlee
It’s time.
There is no way around it. There is no more denying that my relationship is abusive and toxic. It will never improve. Last night was the last time. Scotty laid his hands on our daughter, and that shit will never—ever—happen again.
I quickly throw some clothes into bags and make sure to pack Stella’s favorite toys and her sleep lovie blankee.
Stella, my three-year-old, little, innocent girl, is watching Mickey Mouse, oblivious to what is about to happen. I call her name as I turn the television off, and she stands up and runs toward me as if she hasn’t seen me in years. I take her hand, wincing at the dark bruise that has formed on her arm.
That asshole grabbed her and shook her so hard yesterday, I was afraid she’d have shaken baby syndrome. I stayed up with her all night, vigilantly waiting and watching for the slightest hint of trauma.
“Where going, mama?” she asks, noticing our bags.
One rolling suitcase for me and a duffle bag for her. Six years of my life has dwindled down to this. I couldn’t be happier, though. I don’t want anything he’s bought me. The small stack of cash in my purse is the only thing of monetary value that I’m bringing, and that is only because money is a need—not a want.
“To see your Auntie Kentlee,” I announce. Her eyes widen.
I have told my baby girl all about her beautiful Auntie and her big, strong uncle.
I take her hand and we walk; we walk all the way to the bus stop. I refuse to take anything more from him than I need. A car is a luxury, and it is in his name anyway. I don’t need a damn thing from him, except our daughter.
I’ve never been on public transportation before, but I would ride on the city bus for the rest of my life if it meant I wouldn’t have to see that asshole, Scotty, again.
Stella fidgets beside me as the bus slows and stalls at each and every stop, regardless of if there are people waiting to get on or not. I watch as our small city disappears and we are let off at the edge of town.
The last bus stop.
It’s deserted out here, but I know what is at the end of the winding dirt path.
Salvation.
Dragging my suitcase with one arm while I hold Stella’s hand with the other, we slowly walk toward our destination. She’s solemn. She can sense a change, and I hope that whatever happens, I don’t scar her for life. Not that she hasn’t already been scarred in her short three years of existence. She’s seen more hell than a child her age ever should.
The gates appear at the end of the road, and I know that we have reached our destination. I can only pray that Kentlee was sincere when she said her man, Fury, would help us and protect us. I have a feeling we’re going to need every bit of protection that this man and his club can offer.
“Help you?” A man’s voice calls out as he walks toward the gate.
“I’m looking for Kentlee,” I say softly as my eyes widen.
The man is huge, built like a brick wall. He has long, black hair and a long beard. He looks frightening, and I feel Stella’s hand grip mine tightly in what I can assume is fear.
“She know you’re comin’?” he asks, narrowing his eyes on me. He doesn’t open the gate.
I see suspicion swirling in his eyes. Six years ago, I would have given him some smart ass answer, but that smart mouth has been beaten out of me.
“No. I’m her sister,” I murmur. I then watch the man’s eyebrows shoot straight up.
I look on in anticipation as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hits a few buttons before he places it at his ear. I’m unable to listen to him as Stella has decided to pull on my arm. I bend down and get to eye level with her.
“Where we are, mama?” she asks in her sweet voice.
“We’re going to visit with Auntie Kentlee,” I say.
I know I’ve already told her, but this is all new—a complete culture shock to her. Dirty country roads aren’t something she’s ever seen before; neither are bikers.
“Who’s dat man?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.
“Auntie Kentlee’s friend,” I explain, hoping she won’t say anything embarrassing. She’s three—I can’t stop half the shit that flies from her mouth.
“He looks like a big grizzly bear,” she points out. I try to hide my smile.
“That’s why they call me Grizz, little darlin’,” he explains.
I turn my head around to look at him. He’s got a huge smile on his face, and I’m so thankful he didn’t take offence to my little Stella.
“Kent ain’t here, but Fury is. He said to let you all in,” the big man, I now know as Grizz, says as he opens one side of the gate.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
“Let me take your bags, yeah?” he asks as he reaches for our luggage and takes it swiftly from my hand.
I inhale deeply and try to relax as I follow this giant toward the building I know to be the Notorious Devil’s clubhouse. A place horror stories often come from. My sister is immersed in this life though, and if she can handle it, then so can I. She’s softer than I am, always has been; sweeter, too.
I have seen horror and hell while encased in a gorgeous home. Nothing can be worse than what I have already endured.
“He’ll meet you in the bar, just wait for him there,” Grizz says, pushing my bag against the wall of the entrance.
<
br /> “My bags?” I ask, looking from him to the luggage.
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere. They’ll be fine right here, babe,” he grunts. I nod.
“You aren’t going in there with me?” I ask, wiping my sweaty hand on my tight jeans.
I’m wearing a pair of skin tight, legging jeans and a scoop neck tank top. It’s a casual outfit that I had hidden from Scotty because, as his wife, I was not allowed to be casual any longer. Dresses and suits were all I was permitted to wear. I hated them. Despised them. I’m only twenty-five years old. I love cute skinny jeans.
“Nope, I gotta get back to the gates. You’re good, babe. Place is dead during the day.” He winks and strolls away as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
I take another deep breath before I curl my fingers around the door handle and pull it toward me. This is it. I am leaving my husband. It hasn’t felt real. Packing our luggage, the bus trip, or walking through those gates didn’t feel real.
Now, as I step inside of the dimly lit bar, it hits me. This is all real.
There is no going back. Scotty would kill me without hesitating if I did.
Now, maybe I can live instead of just survive.
“Brentlee,” a gruff voice booms from a seat at a table.
The room is eerily empty, except for him. His hair is pulled up into a man-bun and his face is covered in thick scruff. Not a long grizzly beard, but there’s definitely a generous layer of hair hiding his face.
“Fury,” I say as I walk toward him on shaky legs.
“Sit down,” he grunts.
I pull Stella with me. Once I’m seated, I put her into my lap. I don’t want her on the floor of this place. I can’t even imagine the things that have landed there.
Well… that’s not true. I could imagine the disgusting things that have landed and happened on the floor of the Notorious Devil’s clubhouse, and I definitely don’t want my sweet baby to ever touch it.
“I left him. Kentlee said if I ever needed to leave him, you could help me,” I ramble, unable to look anywhere but his throat.
“Calm down, babe,” he murmurs. My eyes move to his. He is serious, but his eyes are soft and focused on Stella.
“Why now?” he asks. I swallow loudly.
“He hurt Stella,” I whisper. I then watch as his jaw hardens and his teeth grind.
“Then you have my protection, and the club’s,” he states.
“I have nothing, Fury. We have nothing but a small suitcase each. I have no skills.” My voice trembles as tears fall from my eyes.
“We’ll set you up and get you work, Brentlee. Not gonna let my woman’s sister and my niece suffer another fuckin’ minute,” he growls.
I blink the tears that have begun to form away and stare at him in awe.
“I’ll do whatever I need to do, Fury; whatever you want from me, you have it,” I say, meaning every single word.
“You’d dance?” he asks, tipping his lips. I know what he’s referring to. He’s referring to the strip club they own. The Devils Club.
“You protect Stella and me from him, and I’ll be your fucking star,” I confirm.
“Might hold you to that, babe. It’d get you guys a nice bank account balance, but it’s not anything we need to worry about now. I’ll call Kent to come and get you. You two can stay with us until we sort out a place for you,” he murmurs, taking his phone out of his pocket.
I place my hand on his and he freezes, his eyes crashing with mine.
“Thank you, Fury. I didn’t stand up for Kent when I should have, and here you both are helping me. I don’t deserve it, but thank you. I don’t want to put you guys in danger. I don’t want to stay with you. I can imagine it will be one of the first places he goes.”
“Only other option is staying with a brother or staying here. I can’t have Stella stay here, babe; so with a brother is the only way. Can’t imagine you’d feel comfortable staying with a stranger, though,” he says.
I don’t want to stay with a stranger either, but I can’t stay with him and Kentlee. I can’t put Bear or their toddler daughter, in danger.
“They can stay with me,” a deep voice says from the shadows.
I turn to look at the voice. My mouth automatically drops open and I stare in shock at the man who stands before me. A man I never thought I would lay eyes on ever again.
It isn’t possible.
It can’t be.
Bates Lukin.
“Bates,” I whisper harshly, my eyes locked onto his.
He looks so different. If I saw him walking down the street, I wouldn’t recognize him. Perhaps I have done so, walked right past him and not realized it. His voice is the same—harsher, but familiar.
Gone are his boyish features. He has a dark beard now that covers his cheeks and chin. His hair is short and clean cut, but messy on top. He’s massive, at least double the size he was when we dated. He’s no longer the eighteen-year-old boy of my dreams. He’s a man now.
I watch as his eyes flick from me to Stella, then back. He takes a few steps toward me and the abrasiveness of his features startle me. His eyes look haunted, so haunted, it’s eerie.
I wonder what he’s seen. What he’s done.
The sweet boy that held me and told me he loved me is but a memory compared to this hardened man in front of me. I exhale as my eyes stay focused on him. My body tingles as I continue to take him in, it hasn’t forgotten how Bates made it feel all those years ago. One touch and I would probably combust.
My skin heats at the thought of his full lips on mine. A million years could pass and Bates Lukin would still make me burn hot. Make my belly flip. Make my pussy clench with just the memories he left me with.
Fuck.
No way can I live with him.
I haven’t had an orgasm in years, and he’s like a walking advertisement for multiples.
Nope.
This cannot happen.
“I don’t think…” I say, trailing off before Bates’ hand is held up to shut me up.
“No, you really don’t. You’ll stay with me. I’ll keep you safe from that piece of fucking shit,” he growls, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The anger pours off of him and I can’t help but inwardly smile. There is no doubt Bates can handle Scotty. He has fifty pounds of pure, bulked muscle on my asshole husband.
“Okay,” I rasp.
Sniper
I stand back. Leaning against the wall.
Listening.
Watching.
Waiting.
She’s so fuckin’ gorgeous, even as nervous as she is, and she still takes my breath away. A piece of me wants to take her back to my room and shove my cock down her pretty throat, then fuck her until she’s screaming my name and all memories of the man she married are erased.
Brentlee Johnson.
I’ll never think of her with that asshat’s last name. No. She’ll always be my little Brentlee Johnson.
Her raspy voice tells Fury that she’s left her husband. She’s done and she needs help. He hurt her for so many years, but he has now laid hands on the beautiful little girl in her lap. He’s an animal, and he needs to be put down.
I grin to myself. I’m going to be the one to make him disappear. I’m going to be the one to lay him down. But not until I’ve claimed his wife, not until he sees that she’s mine, not his, and that she never was.
My eyebrows shoot sky high when she agrees to dance at the club. My cock twitches at the thought. It shouldn’t. I should be angry that she’s willing to show off her fantastic body to the world. But Brentlee, naked and on stage? It would be hot as fuck.
Nothing but white hot lust rolls through me at the thought of her baring it all to a room full of men and knowing that everything they’re fantasizing about is all mine. She is mine, too. From this moment on, she’s in my house, in my bed, and at my side. I refuse to let her slip through my fingers again, not now that she’s decided to live.
I step forward an
d offer to let her stay with me. When she hesitates, I don’t even allow her to finish her thought. She’s staying with me. I need her to. I need to keep her safe, and the only way I will know that she is one hundred percent safe is if she is under my roof.
“You sure, brother?” Fury asks as he turns to me, a smile twitching on his lips. I want to flip him off, but I don’t.
“Yeah,” I grunt before looking back at Brentlee. She is staring slack jawed at me. Her little girl’s eyes are wide and bright as she takes me in.
“Come on, beauties, let’s go,” I murmur.
Stella doesn’t hesitate as she jumps off of Brent’s lap and walks right up to me. I feel like the pint-sized creature is looking past my exterior and straight to my soul as her eyes take me in, as if she’s sizing me up and deciding how she feels about me.
I hope she can’t see too deep into me; it’s not a pretty place to be—full of demons and monsters.
After a beat, she reaches her tiny hand out and wraps it around mine. I look down at her little girl hand wrapped in my big, calloused one and just stare.
I squeeze her hand in mine, a reflex, and she smiles up at me, bright and happy and all Brent. She should’ve been mine. I’ll protect her now, because she deserves it; because she’s Brent’s; and because if I would’ve had my head outta my ass, she would have been my baby.
“Mama?” I murmur as I watch Brent’s eyes meet mine. Her mouth snaps closed.
She stands but doesn’t take my hand. I don’t let it bother me. I’ll have her beneath me soon enough. Her hand, mouth, and cunt filled with my cock before she can even blink.
I load them up in the dirty pickup truck that I usually only use in the winter. I, along with most of the other brothers, leave our winter vehicles here at the clubhouse all spring and summer long, until the snow comes and we can’t ride.
The drive to my place is quiet. I can practically taste the nerves pouring off of Brentlee, but I can’t seem to find any words for her. I want to reassure her that everything will be okay, but I can’t. Nothing sounds right in my own head. So I keep my mouth shut and drive.
Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) Page 2