by Amity Cross
Chaser
Leaning against the side of the shitty motel, I stared out across the lot to the desert beyond. Once you’d seen one shithole, you’d seen them all.
The sun was roasting my shoulders, the black T-shirt I was wearing absorbing the heat. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm and pushed my sunglasses up.
Sloane and Gasket were talking in the room behind me, but I knew better than to listen at the door like a little fucking girl.
I’d told her to use me as bait, but what if she was going to use me anyway? The deal King offered her was unsurpassed. I couldn’t give her a pardon for murder or even get her the revenge she so desperately wanted. I couldn’t even get it for myself.
I won’t love a dead man. Her admission meant more than she realized. I loved a dead woman for years. I would always love Madison in some way, but Sloane was here. She was living flesh and blood.
The stress of this fucked-up revenge plot was getting to everyone. The dry heat of the desert wasn’t helping, either.
The door opened behind me, and Gasket appeared.
“Do I want to go back in there?” I asked, pushing off the wall.
“Don’t be too hard on her,” he replied. “I know you’re in a bad spot…”
“Bad spot? That’s what you call it?” I snorted and looked away. I couldn’t deal with his fatherly shit today.
“If you think getting yourself killed without even fighting is the answer, then you’re more fucked up than I ever believed possible.”
“Careful, old man,” I drawled.
“Listen, I’ve got to get back.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and spun them around his finger.
“Fortitude?” I prodded.
“I’ll do what I can to track the renegades. They won’t get away with what they’ve done to harm her, Chaser. If we have to kill every last one of them, then that’s what we’ll do. No mercy.”
“Good. I’ve got enough names on my list already.”
“Chaser… This war isn’t just about you,” he said. “I told her that, too. It’s bigger than just your beef with King.”
I glared at him, not trusting myself to speak.
“The club doesn’t turn it’s back on family.” He clapped me on the shoulder and grinned. “Brother.”
“Fuck me,” I drawled, rolling my eyes.
“Just get your shit together, eh?” He nodded toward the motel room. “Remember what you’re fighting for, Chaser. Remember it and don’t forget again.”
“Or what?”
“You don’t want to know.” Gasket flung his leg over his motorcycle, then put his helmet on. Turning the key in the ignition, the beast roared into life. He threw me one last look, then tore out of the lot and onto the road.
I waited, listening to the sound of his motorcycle fade into the distance, thinking about what he’d just said. Remember what you’re fighting for.
Love. I supposed that was what he was hinting at. Love, family, and a future without fear.
Jesus. Motherfucking love. Whatever that was.
I turned back to the motel room and grasped the door handle. Love, family, and a future. I’d been alone for so long, lost in misery. When had all those things found their way to me?
I didn’t know, but Gasket was right. I’d forgotten what I was fighting for.
Finally, I opened the door.
Chapter 16
Sloane
Hopelessly.
The word held so many conflicting definitions I wasn’t sure which one to focus on.
Outside, I heard Gasket’s motorcycle start, and I looked toward the door, knowing the two men would’ve had words. I just wanted… What did I want?
Chaser’s end echoed Marini’s, but where my father didn’t care about my mother’s murder, Chaser cared too much about the murder of Madison. Just us being here, working against King and the Hollow Men, was evidence of that. After all we’d been through, I still harbored jealousy over a dead woman.
He was right about one thing. I’d locked everything away rather than deal with it. Indifference wasn’t a badge of honor. It was the mark of death.
It was ironic in a way. I was becoming the cold, unfeeling one, and Chaser was warming the fuck up. Who would we be at the end of all this? If we survived, would our relationship?
I turned my mom’s engagement ring over in my palm and studied the light refracting through the diamond. At least, I thought it was a diamond. It could be a shitty cubic zirconia or a slice of glass for all I knew. It didn’t matter. It had belonged to my mother, and it was the only thing I had of hers, even though my father had given it to her.
The motel room door opened, letting in a shaft of sunlight and Chaser. Murky orange light enveloped the space once more as he shut out the world.
“What’s that?” he asked, sitting beside me.
“My mom’s engagement ring.” I held up my palm so he could see the gold band.
“Where’d you find that?”
“I stole it from Marini’s room the night of the coup.” I sighed. “I went after him then, but he wasn’t there. I know you didn’t want me to be part of all that, but…”
“I was trying to protect you,” he murmured.
“I know, but I needed to fight my own battles.”
“Is that why you went after him at the cabin?”
An unexpected wave of emotion clouded my mind, and I waited a moment for it to clear. Where it had come from, who the hell knew?
“I know I said I was going to kill him,” I said. “I believed I would, but when it came down to it, I wasn’t so sure I could go through with it. But he tried to smash my head in with a rock, and I knew… At that moment, it was him or me. So, I took the shot.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t a cold-blooded murder. Not really.”
“Self-defense,” Chaser murmured.
“Self-defense,” I echoed. “All that other stuff, the revenge, the hatred…those reasons came after. But…”
“But?”
I glanced at him before turning toward the window. “I liked it. King goaded me into admitting it. Chaser”—I looked at him again, trying to gauge his response, but his face was as stoic as ever—“I don’t want to feel like that again. It brought out the parts of me that echo Marini. I don’t want to be him. It was like a sick addiction was trying to drag me away, and I… I didn’t want to admit it.”
He didn’t say anything, and my mind began filling in the blanks with depressing action items. I’d become the thing he hated. He didn’t want to love me if I was like Marini. He’d realized he’d made a mistake and should never have touched me. He’d signed himself up to a death sentence he no longer believed in. No pussy was worth this amount of shit.
I began to panic, the tragedy of my life flashing before my eyes. “I know you said you’d die for me and that you are mine, but saying the words… If you can’t say it, do you really believe those things?”
Chaser’s expression closed so fast it was like he’d slammed a door in my face.
Oh God, I’ve screwed everything up. I’ve pushed too hard, and now he’s realized he wants out.
“If this ends up being one-sided, if it’s just the danger and adrenaline that’s made you feel this way, then I don’t care,” I declared, rising to my feet. “I’d rather have loved on my own than not at all.” Shit, talk about self-torture. “I can’t let you sacrifice yourself…” I trailed off, a sick realization hitting me square in the heart. He wasn’t doing this for me. “You’re not… You’re doing this for…”
I turned my back on him, humiliation heating my cheeks. Where did I get off thinking I was so goddamned special?
“I don’t know what I expected,” I muttered. “A happy ending? In this life? Yeah, right.”
I thought I was okay with it. Chaser and his quest to avenge Madison. She was dead, and I was alive. Maybe I was just a full-blown head case.
“If I don’t belong here, then where do I belong?” I stared at him, my throat
aching. “Gasket said I was worth it, but I can’t see it. All I’ve done since I walked into your life is screw it up. You’ve been shot and stabbed, lost everything, lost your place at Fortitude, and now you… Your revenge is for her, and I’m just… I’m a way to get there.”
Chaser was like a statue, sitting on the end of the bed and staring at me. Whatever he thought about my self-destruction, he didn’t comment. He didn’t even blink.
“Answer me,” I exclaimed. I’m ranting like a fool and destroying the last shred of hope I had in my life. Everyone wants to be loved, I thought. But what if I’m meant to love alone? Can I live, knowing I’m destined to self-destruct?
“Say something!” I screeched.
“I love you.”
It was my turn to stare. I blinked, my hands trembling.
Chaser rose to his feet and stood before me, his hands cupping my face. His touch burned my skin, his eyes staring deep into mine.
“I hear you,” he murmured. “We’re going to be okay.”
“But…”
“We just have to do one more thing before forever, remember?”
A tear slipped from my eye, dripping down my cheek like a little traitor. I didn’t cry. I never cried.
“I’m not going to die, Sloane. I won’t let him touch you.”
“The deal,” I began, my voice wavering.
“Screw the deal.”
My breath caught.
“We both get out of this, no matter what,” he added, resting his forehead against mine. “It’s nonnegotiable. We’ll find another way.”
“Chaser, I…”
“We lost our way for a while, but we’re back. Okay?”
I froze, the tenderness in his expression haunting. When his lips took mine, I melted into his touch, unable to do anything but wrap myself around his being. I worked up the nerve to say those words again, my soul trembling with excitement, but before I could get them out, Chaser pushed me back onto the bed.
I gasped in surprise as he covered my body with his, the weight of him igniting a spark between my legs. I buried my hands in my hair as his mouth closed around a hard nipple and sucked it through the material of my top.
“Chaser…”
His hand found its way underneath my top, tugging it upward, and I allowed him to strip me to the flesh, exposing my breasts to his expert tongue.
We writhed, caught up in the heat of the moment. His words echoed in my heart, my outburst seeming foolish now we were here. His touch moved ever downward, my core coming alive.
He slipped his hand down the front of my jean shorts, in between the material of my panties and skin. His thumb brushed against my clit, teasing. He circled the little bundle of nerves, his touch arousing a sharp gasp of pleasure. Arching my back off the bed, I felt his cock brush my bare leg.
Chaser pulled his hand away and unbuttoned my jean shorts, then dragged them down. His T-shirt came next, and then his jeans were down, his cock hard and ready. He was over me again, slipping a finger between my folds. I didn’t have to see the look in his eyes to know. I felt it. I was dripping, throbbing, pulsing...
He pushed a finger inside my opening, and I rolled my hips into his hand, forcing him to delve deeper. I stretched as another digit entered me, his palm flattening over my clit and rubbing. Slow at first, then hard, his fingers fucked me at an obliterating pace. A cry tore from my lips as my body rose, and my legs were forced wide open.
He was relentless as he pleasured me, the wet slapping of his hand driving me right to the precipice until I lost my grip and fell. I came hard, but he never slowed, my body quivering wildly around his fingers.
I’d hardly caught my breath let alone finished before Chaser thrust his cock into me. He pounded into my body, fucking me mercilessly. Taking me whole, just like the first night we’d been together. All our pent-up frustrations had come out then. Slick, overpowering, and intense.
My orgasm tore me in two, the force overwhelming everything but Chaser and me. We were all there was. Our enemies were nothing. Our revenge was nothing. Our fear was nothing.
I felt him erupt inside me, stroking his cock through his seed as he spilled, his lips parted. Moaning, I moved to meet him, rising as he thrust.
“This,” he said with a heavy breath. “This is what I want…”
“To come in me?” I asked, tightening around his cock.
“No.” He flexed, his eyes rolling as the last of his orgasm left his body. “To be with you.”
He didn’t have to say any more than that. I understood. There were no more barriers between us. No more doubts, no more secrets, and no more fear. We were together. The same.
I ran my hands along the curve of his back, relishing the strength coiled in his muscles. Lingering on one of his many scars, I moved, coaxing his cock to slide in and out. Another wave of pleasure ebbed in the background, and his lips found mine.
He didn’t soften before he had me again.
Chapter 17
Chaser
As Sloane and I lay together after we’d worn ourselves out, my arm circled her slender form. She’d gotten thinner. All of this stress, paired with our shitty diet, had been taking its toll.
Nestled along my side with her cheek on my chest, Sloane’s fingers traced an old scar on my ribs. Draped was an appropriate word. Sloane was draped over me. She draped like no other woman had.
“Where did we…” she began, her cheek moving against my chest as she spoke. “I’ve been trying to pinpoint it, but I can’t.”
“Don’t dwell,” I replied. I wouldn’t tell her, but I believed it was that night at the cabin. It was the second time she’d killed, but it was the most personal. “Dwelling won’t change anything.”
“Are we safe here?”
“Safe enough.”
I glanced at the bedside table, and her mother’s ring glinted in the artificial light filtering through the crack in the curtains. She’d been holding it a lot—studying the diamond, learning the curves of the gold claws holding the stone in place—but she never put it on. I assumed she was thinking about her, but she never voiced what those thoughts were.
“Do you want to talk about your mom?” I asked.
“Why?”
“Her ring…”
“No,” she said after a moment. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
I pulled in a deep breath, my chest rising, then let it out. It wasn’t a sigh, it was a reset. A deep breath to fill my lungs with life.
“Chaser?”
“Yeah?”
Headlights lit up the window, and I tensed, but the car beyond kept going. Whoever it was, wasn’t here for us.
“Are we just going to wait?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“We’ll figure something out. I’ll cut my hair, bleach it blonde. Get facial reconstruction surgery.”
“That’s a bit extreme.” I snorted and dragged my fingers through her hair. “Ten days.”
“That’s a bit specific,” she said, twisting my words into a comeback. “Why ten?”
“I’ve been thinking…”
“You can think while you fuck?” Her head rose, and her eyes sparkled in the half-light.
“Some men can multitask,” I retorted, my lips twisting into a smile.
Sloane propped herself up on her elbow and placed her fingers on my mouth. “I like when you do that.”
“Smile?” I narrowed my eyes.
“You brood a lot.”
“I thought brooding was sexy.”
She laughed and shook her head, her hair falling forward and spilling onto my bare chest. The fact she could laugh with King’s threats hanging over her head was unbelievable. It just proved her strength even more. Her insecurities didn’t weaken her one bit—they just showed she was human. Sloane was human, Marini was human…and so was King. He wasn’t an immortal tyrant. Humans could be killed.
“I’m going to
have a shower,” I said.
“Can I come?”
My cock twitched, and she grinned.
Rolling out of bed, I padded across the room and into the bathroom, aware she followed my every step. Leaning into the shower, which was inconveniently placed over the bath, I gave the hot water a few spins before adding in a turn of cold.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this,” Sloane said, her gaze dropping to my cock.
“I agree.”
I stepped into the bath and tested the water. Dipping my head underneath the spray, my muscles coiled when I felt her palms caress my back. I turned slowly, facing my one and only.
It was still raw after my admission, and there was a seed of fear that was growing along with it. Caring let in emotions I’d tried to forget a long time ago. The anguish of loss was something I might struggle with for the rest of my life, but Sloane…she understood.
I reached for the soap and rubbed it in my hands, working up a lather. Without a word, I cupped both her breasts and kneaded, washing and arousing all at once. Her chest rose in short, sharp breaths.
“You can’t do anything without it turning erotic,” she murmured.
“Is that so bad?”
She shook her head, and water trickled down her face.
I moved my hand down her body, cupping the bar of soap against her skin, following her soft curves until I reached the sweet spot. Cupping her pussy, I massaged her clit as my fingers delved between her softness. I forged a path into her, allowing the soap to fall away.
“See?” she declared with a moan as I fingered her.
“It’s how I feel closest to you.”
“Really? Not into conversation?”
“Not usually, but you know that.”
She rolled her hips, grinding into my palm.
“I don’t let just anyone put their cock in me,” she murmured. “Especially bare.”
“That’s my point.”
“Remember when we first met?” she asked. “You said, ‘I don’t need to force any woman onto my cock. They come to me and just slide right on.’” She laughed and dug her fingers into my ass cheeks.