Hopeful Whispers: (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter #2)

by Bink Cummings

“What am I supposed to do then?” Vanessa speaks up.

  “Rest,” Rosie answers, knowing from our last stop that all of us, including Ryker, are fed up with his wife.

  Tucking her long, sleek ponytail over her shoulder, Vanessa’s bottom lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout. It’s meant to be cute. When, in reality, it’s babyish. “What if I gotta use the restroom?”

  Her lack of common sense baffles me. How have Ryker and her lasted this long?

  Annoyed by her ridiculousness, I refuse to swallow my frustration down like a hot branding iron for another second. “We are in the woods. You can pee by a tree.”

  Her face screws up in disgust. “I’m not peeing out there.”

  “Then you’d better hold your bladder, ‘cause we aren’t leavin’ until I know things are safe,” Rosie adds.

  Vanessa scoffs at Rosie’s no-nonsense tone. “Who are you again?”

  Rosie’s hazel eyes flare with challenge. “I’m the bitch who’s tired of your mouth already. So why don’t you shut up and let the adults do their job, okay, princess?”

  Vanessa glares at her new nemesis.

  Rosie returns the sentiment with equal distaste.

  Kade snickers, and Ryker groans, dragging a palm down his face before sighing like this is the worst day of his life. Join the club, buddy. I’m right there with ya. Where’s a muzzle when you need one?

  The non-pregnant badasses discuss their plans, and when they’re finished, Kade turns around to check on me. “Are you gonna be okay stayin’ in here with them?”

  Ryker mumbles something I can’t make out.

  What choice do I have? They’re not going to let an extremely pregnant woman, who was recently kidnapped, and happens to be a target, stand outside with them to keep watch. That’s common sense. If I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t allow it either. So I have no other options than to remain in the Suburban and hope that this snag is solved quickly. Maybe the Caddy will lose interest and give up for now. The longer we’re on the road without back up, the more vulnerable we become. Texas can’t come soon enough.

  Nodding, I press my lips into a thin line.

  Kade reaches around the chair and squeezes my knee. “If you need me, I’m not gonna be far.”

  I offer him a tight smile. “Thanks.”

  “I mean it, Kat. If you need me, I’m here. Nobody is gonna fuck with you anymore.”

  I wish that were true. Either way, my comfort isn’t priority. We’ve got more pressing matters.

  I cup his big hand with my much smaller one that rests on my knee. “I’m good. The longer you talk, the longer we gotta wait to leave.”

  Satisfied with my response, Kade delivers one final squeeze and climbs out of the truck to join Rosie. Ryker re-fires the engine and coasts deeper into the woods, further from the road. Pulling up next to a downed tree, he turns off the ignition and tosses the keys on the dash. “If you don’t wanna get squished, Vanessa, I suggest you change seats. ‘Cause I’m gonna recline.” Not giving her time to protest, Ryker’s chair tilts, and Vanessa scrambles into the seat Kade vacated. Hating the idea of being close to her, I shift to the opposite side of the bench and kick my legs up to relax. At least I’ve got enough room to sort of sprawl out.

  Snatching my favorite pillow from the top of my luggage, I tuck it behind my head. Vanessa fires icy daggers at me over her shoulder. Perhaps jealous that I was smart enough to bring a pillow. It’s not my fault she’s ill-prepared. I know, I know, I should share, because that’s what nice people do. It’s something I constantly lecture my girls about. But, you know what? Fuck that. I’m not sharing any of my stuff. She’s got Ryker’s jacket. The one that smells like him. As far as I’m concerned, from this moment on, she doesn’t exist.

  Tucking his arm under his head, gun resting on his chest from what I can see, Ryker’s eyes slide closed. “If you need me, Tiger, just wake me up. Vanessa, do me a favor and actually be quiet. I’m exhausted.”

  Neither one of us women respond. There’s nothing to say.

  Prepared to watch over Ryker, just in case, I extract my Kindle out of my bag that’s on the floor and fire it up to read another biker romance. You’d better not disappoint me with your raw alphaness, Tooth, or I’m liable to kick your dick in. The last thing I need is to be let down by a sexy gay biker when life itself sucks right now.

  Kat

  There’s a deafening screech of metal tearing. Vanessa screaming. Glass breaking. My eyes fly wide the instant our vehicle rolls. End over end, I slam into the ceiling and back against the seat on agonizing repeat, trying to protect my stomach. For a terrifying second, I’m suspended mid-air between the leather bench and the roof before I crack my skull on the ceiling. My vision blurs. Pain explodes. Blood drips. Ears ring.

  I’m going to die!

  A hundred years later, the thrashing ceases, and my world stills. Wetness trickles from between my thighs. Blood, piss, or amniotic fluid, I don’t know which. A heartbeat later and everything around me realigns. The roof’s at my back. There’s noise, so much noise, but I can’t make any of it out. Am I the one screaming? Tilting my head back, fragments of glass grind into my hair from the shattered windows.

  Afraid to assess myself, I lie still, trying not to panic. Pain, more than I’ve ever felt before, radiates from my belly button up through my chest. Pulling any air proves to be increasingly difficult with each laden exhale. Panicking, I draw a deep breath and cough violently through the fiery pain. Breaking into a cold sweat, my hands begin to tremble. Something’s not right. Blood bubbles up my throat, filling my mouth. I spit, and it keeps coming.

  I love you, Roxie. I love you, Scarlett. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so so so sorry.

  A hot tear slips free.

  Another cough and metallic hell bathes my tongue once again, surging through my nostrils.

  Someone touches my shoulder, then shakes it.

  My vision dims.

  Heart rate slows.

  The familiar scent of the man I used to love envelopes me.

  I gasp a gurgling breath.

  This is it.

  The end.

  I’m sorry.

  Ryker

  Son of a bitch!

  “Baby.”

  I shake Kat’s shoulder to no avail as copious amounts of tears leak down the sides of her ashen face. Mumbling nonsense on a heartbreaking sob, her entire body shudders as she gasps for air. Although she can breathe just fine. There’s nothing physically wrong with her. Whatever mental demons she’s battlin’ are tearing her up. And I can’t do a goddamn thing but sit here and watch in agony. Jesus Christ. I wanna kill the bastards that’re haunting her dreams. If they were real, I’d have disemboweled them by now.

  “She okay?” Kade asks from the driver seat as he backs us outta the woods.

  Kneelin’ on the floor between the two bucket seats, I take her quivering hand in mine. “I dunno. She’s dreaming. And it’s not a good one. She’s fuckin’ cryin’.”

  “PTSD, ya think?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” I snap, pissed at myself for not bein’ there when she needed me. If I had been, I wouldn’t be dying a slow, painful death watchin’ the love of my life’s wretched sobs.

  “Ryker,” Kat rasps. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” Rubbing her shoulder, I lean up to kiss the tears from her cheeks, not givin’ a single fuck that Vanessa’s watching.

  “Ryker.” Kat’s bottom lip wobbles.

  “I’ve got you. You need to wake up, Kat,” I whisper to her lips before gently molding mine to hers to leech the pain away. Anything to make this stop. My heart can’t take this another damn second. It’s cracking in two.

  My mouth brushes over her parted ones. “Wake up, my little Tiger. Come back to me.”

  “I—I can’t,” she whimpers, squeezing my hand in a death grip.

  “I love you so fuckin’ much. You gotta wake up. Come back to me.” Another ghost of a kiss is delivered, and he
r body stills. The air in her lungs freezes, scaring the ever-lovin' piss outta me.

  No. No. No.

  Drawing back, I shake her shoulder hard. “Tiger. You gotta breathe. Kat!”

  There’s a sharp gasp from her pretty lips as color returns to her cheeks and my little Tiger’s swollen eyes pop open. For a brief second she scans my face, confused. Then her face crumbles and a painful wail rips from her throat. Fuck.

  Not giving two shits how this looks, I scoop her into my arms, forcing her to sit on my lap as she releases whatever it is that’s bottled deep inside. Fisting my shirt, she clings to me, shoving her face in the crook of my neck. At least she was smart enough to have removed her glasses before falling asleep, or they’d be crushed by now.

  A series of less violent cries tumble one right after another as her tears soak my skin and through the front of my shirt. Still, I hold on, rubbing her back, trying not to lose it myself. I gotta be strong for her. But this is shredding my insides. Maiming them. My fucking gut aches. I may have screwed our future. I may have done a lot of shitty things. Yet, this … this isn’t somethin’ I can fix. This, I’ll have to live with forever. When I knew she was safe, taking care of our kids—happy. I could live my life. Keep on breathin’ day after day, knowin’ I could watch the videos. That I could look but not touch. Knowin’ that mine and the club’s negligence caused her to get caught in the crossfire and, in turn, give her nightmares. That’s somethin’ I dunno how to compartmentalize. Jesus. Where’s a big bottle of whiskey when ya need it? I could sure use a drink. Or the whole goddamn bottle.

  Curbing my self-loathing for a hot minute to focus on what really matters, I whisper, “Everything’s gonna be alright,” and stroke Katrina’s spine.

  She hiccups. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothin’ to be sorry for, baby.” Threading my fingers through her long, beautiful hair, I tilt her head back to kiss her forehead. My lips linger against her damp skin. “You’re safe. Nobody is gonna get you again. Rosie took care of it.”

  Kat doesn’t need to know how Rosie took care of things. All she needs to know is I’m never gonna let anyone hurt her again. Myself included. She deserves someone who’ll hang the moon and stars for her and her alone. Consequences be damned, I’m determined to prove that lucky bastard is me. She’s mine. Always been mine. Always will be.

  My little Tiger sighs. “I died.”

  “In your dream?”

  She nods weakly.

  I re-situate her at my neck, where she can rest, and perhaps let me bear her burden for a while.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask, wrapping both of my arms around her.

  Kat’s lips press to my jugular, steamy breath making me shiver like a horny teenager. I know it’s wrong as hell, but my growing erection’s smashed painfully against my zipper. If I could will the thing away, I would. Getting hard at inopportune times is a curse. My dick understands this isn’t the time nor the place to ravish our woman. Yet, the ornery fucker doesn’t care. He’s raring to go just in case she calls him to action.

  “No,” she eventually whispers sadly.

  Content to hold my woman forever, I stroke her skin anywhere I can and cuddle the fuck outta her. My heart sighs its contentment. This is where she belongs—in my arms. Knowing something that might make her feel a little better, I reach into the cup holder for the unopened box of Sno-Caps she left there. Single-handedly, I open the container, pluck out a morsel, and blindly navigate my fingers to Kat’s mouth. “Here’s a little chocolate, sweetheart,” I prompt, so I don’t accidentally poke her in the eye, or worse, the stitches on her cheek.

  Soft pillowy lips and a wet tongue extract the treat from my pinched fingers. My dick gives a slight kick. Fuck. That mouth’s perfection.

  Kat hums her delight, savoring one of her favorite snacks.

  “More. Please,” she mutters almost shyly.

  Pleasure swells in my cock and chest as I oblige my lady and pluck another Sno-Cap from the box without spilling its contents on the seat. Once again, I find her mouth. She sensually rolls her tongue over my fingers to retrieve her gift with a happy little hum. I feel it all the way down in my fucking cock. As if she’s lickin’ me there. Teasin’ the head. Swirlin’ her tongue, not around my finger, but my crown. Sippin’ on my pre-cum. Lavishin’ it like she used to when we were together. When I hadn’t been a dumbass. If she keeps this up, I’m liable to come in my pants. You know how long it’s been since I’ve done that? Never. Okay. That’s a lie. Once. With Kat. Before I took her virginity. Only she doesn’t know I came the first time she let me touch her luscious tits. They did me in. Big, ripe, firm breasts that are more than a handful spilling into my eager palms. It was one of the best presents I ever unwrapped. Pretty, fair colored nipples to match her skin and blonde hair. One glorious suck and she was writhing. Then, I was coming. Hard. This is gonna end up the same if that tongue doesn’t behave itself. Hell. I don’t think she realizes what she’s doing.

  Much to my dick’s delight, I feed Kat one piece at a time, and smother the string of groans she elicits with that sinful mouth. It’s pure torture.

  “Ya want another?” I husk.

  “Yes, please.” Her uninjured cheek nuzzles my shoulder like a cat.

  Shoving my fingers deeper into the box, I extract another chocolate and find her lips. Kat curls her tongue under the candy, all the while shooting pings of pleasure to my balls as she suckles my thumb and index finger. Jerking my hand away as if it’s on fire, I inhale deeply, expanding my chest to full capacity before releasing the breath. It does little to curb the tingling in my shaft. I readjust Katrina on my lap, hoping that’ll keep me from having to readjust another piece of my anatomy. She doesn’t need to know this is turnin’ me on.

  “How y’all doin’ back there?” Kade calls.

  “Fine, Dickcheese.” Kat giggles. It’s a lovely tinkly sound. Almost as lovely as the woman.

  Vanessa grumbles. Don’t think I haven’t noticed her tense shoulders. Or the not so subtle scowls she tosses my way every now and again. I’m sure there will be hell to pay once we get home. Vanessa isn’t gonna let me get away with this. If I were in her shoes, I’d be stark ravin’ mad that another bitch was on my man’s lap. The problem with that picture is: she presumes I’m hers. When I’m not. Yeah. We mighta gotten hitched. Nobody said I was a motherfuckin’ boy scout. But my heart has only ever belonged to one person. And, how’s that sayin’ go? The heart don’t lie. ‘Cause mine sure as shit don’t.

  Tucking her legs higher, Kat turns in to me, nestling our daughter against my abs. Unable to resist the urge, I lift Katrina’s shirt without permission, for some skin on skin, and touch my daughter. She balks for half a second before realizin’ what I’m doin’. “I just wanna feel,” I reason.

  “O-okay.”

  She shivers but doesn’t tell me to go to hell. Progress. I’ll take what I can get.

  Smoothing my palm across her stretchmark riddled stomach, I revel in her balming warmth. The little human inside moves, and I wanna crow like a proud daddy that my daughter’s puttin’ on a show for her pops. I press the spot, knowin’ just what to do, ‘cause this ain’t my first rodeo. Again, my angel shifts. If it wouldn’t cause more headaches, I’d talk to my little girl. Tell her that her daddy loves her. Only, Vanessa would shit a brick. And the last thing Katrina needs to endure is more Vanessa. It’s bad enough we had to travel to Texas in the same vehicle.

  “She’s active,” I note, appreciating my woman’s tiger stripes. To some men, stretchmarks are a turn-off. For me, and my aching cock, it feeds our hunger.

  Katrina places her dainty hand atop mine. The sweet gesture does something powerful to my pulse. Toying with its rhythm. “She is now. But she’s not as rolly as Scarlett or Rox.”

  “Oh, I remember. Scarlett kept ya up half the night.”

  And she did, too. All the time. It’s one of my favorite memories. An agitated Kat, deprived of sleep, unable to lay on her back, much
less get comfortable. We’d lay in bed, facing one another, talking until her eyes finally slid closed. We were inseparable back then. I couldn’t get enough of her. Some would say that’s youth—young love. I’d say it’s my soul finding its better half.

  “That she did,” she agrees wistfully.

  “Those were some of the best times of my life,” I admit.

  “Mine, too,” Kat whispers to my neck.

  Swallowing thickly, I remove my hand from our daughter and fix her shirt. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. As much as I wanna fix this. To make it right. I’m no idiot. It’s gonna take time. Patience. And a helluva lot of perseverance. Baby steps. At least she’s in my arms. Gifting me a tiny slice of her vanilla scented heaven.

  “Do you want more of your theater chocolate?” I change the subject to somethin’ lighter. Somethin’ that’ll surely make my dick remain hard. Yet, my pounding heart calm. It needs a reprieve.

  “It’s not theater chocolate.” Kat chuckles, slapping my pec playfully.

  “It’s not a road trip snack.”

  Kat groans. “Not this again.”

  “What? You know I’m right,” I tease to rev up my blonde bombshell.

  “You’re never right, Br—Ryker. I thought we’ve been through this.”

  Fuck. She almost called me Brent. This is the first time she’s slipped up since Thanksgiving. If that’s not a sucker punch to the gut, I dunno what is.

  Ignoring the pang of guilt, I divert my attention. “Hey, bro. How’s it lookin’?”

  “Good. Good. Rosie said we shouldn’t stop for a couple hours. After that, we can grab a bite somewhere off the beaten path.”

  “You think she’s the real deal?” I ask. If Kade hadn’t told me what Rosie did, I wouldn’t believe it myself.

  “Oh yeah. She’s … fuckin’ amazing.”

  Kat snickers so only I can hear. Then mutters, “Somebody’s smitten.”

  Don’t I know it.

  When Kade woke me from my nap, he was standin’ next to the driver’s door with an expression of unadulterated awe on his face. It took me a good minute to get the fool to spill what went down. Apparently, as Kade tells it, they were hidin’ up the road beside a fence line. The Caddy in question was casing the area. My brother assumed they’d let them go. Evidently, Rosie had other plans. She flagged the car down. They stopped, unaware. Probably thinkin’ they were gonna help some tiny, helpless woman. As if she wasn’t a threat to them. Nobody would believe otherwise. Bing bang boom, two suckers were dead, and Rosie was dumpin’ their car up the closest dirt road. All Kade had to do was pick the dead guy outta the front seat and throw him in the back. Rosie did the rest. Pretty fricken insane. She’s a miniature Xena warrior princess with blonde hair. Unsuspecting as shit.