Glory

by Ana Jolene

Hastie’s green eyes met mine. When he gave me a slow nod, I saw the predator lurking in his eyes.

  “Where’s the body?” Knuckle asked.

  Hastie broke eye contact first and gazed at his father. “It’s likely in the Sandy Plains where I left him.”

  My eyes widened. I suspected that was what happened but hearing Hastie admit to it set me back a bit. Knuckle, on the other hand, didn’t miss a beat. “And what of the other?” The man who Brennan had made a deal with.

  Hastie gave a short shake of his head. Both father and son slid their gaze simultaneously to Lucky. “They split the second they got the chance,” he reported grimly. “I went in pursuit of Brennan and, well . . . you know the rest.”

  “Fuck.” Knuckle ran his fingers roughly through his hair.

  “But I do know who the motherfucker is,” Lucky continued. Everyone in the room perked up. “He’s a Phantom. They’re ruled by the Cavezza brothers and this guy, Anthony, is their leader.”

  “What the hell is a Phantom?” I asked.

  “The Phantoms are a criminal syndicate whose common enterprise is protection racketeering.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “My guess is that he coerced Brennan into buying “protection” since he needed firearms to protect him from Ward Seven. When we refused the trade, he went to Anthony, but tangled himself into a bigger web.” My gut clenched with each of the blond’s words. “The thing is, there’s no coming back from dealing with the Phantoms. They are virtually everywhere, yet you hardly see them.”

  How ever much Brennan was paying for protection, it clearly wasn’t enough since he was currently lost in the Sandy Plains. No human could survive the heat there. Dead by dehydration was a slow, painful death.

  “Fuck me,” Knuckle cursed as the gravity of the situation settled over us.

  “So basically we are dealing with the equivalent of the mafia.”

  Lucky grinned at my comparison. “Yeah. But worse. At least the mafia has a boss and an underboss, people they take orders from. The Phantoms just do as they please. It could mean a lot of trouble for us.”

  “He’s seen you, Hastie,” Lucky continued when he faced his best friend. “And he’s out for blood. You better watch yourself when you’re alone.” Lucky tipped his chin in my direction. “You, too. Brennan knew about you, it’s reasonable to assume Anthony does too.”

  Anxiety twisted inside of me with Lucky’s words. Hastie shot me a dark look. The murderous stare wasn’t for me, but the protective gleam was. Would Hastie really kill someone just to protect me? Goose bumps sprouted all over my arms and the back of my neck. If this Anthony Cavezza really was as deadly as Lucky claimed him to be, we would need to find this ghost before he could find us.

  TWENTY- FIVE

  Motherfuckin’ Badass

  Hastie

  I took Indy home and did all I could not to just flop like a dead body onto the bed. The recent events had exhausted me. Low on food and sleep, I knew I had to get refueled soon before I’d be useful to the club again.

  We sat at the kitchen table now, eating. To an outsider, I think we would have looked a little like the white picket fence variety if not for the way we had just come back from a few long days steeped in sweat and blood.

  Indy took a bite out of her chicken and chewed quickly, no doubt feeling starved after the long day. “Sorry,” I said around a mouthful of the takeout. “Too tired for small talk.”

  Her smile was bright and cheery despite our low energy levels. From the looks of it, Indy was handling the harder parts of Glory MC better than I was. “I’m exhausted, too,” she admitted.

  “You can sleep here.”

  “Thank you.”

  Despite how physically tired I was, my mind still worried over Indy. Her skin looked transparent and that bump on her head had to be routinely checked to make sure it wasn’t serious. My father had said she had hit it hard on the asphalt when the initial blast happened. I wanted to make sure she was going to be okay. I passed over another chicken wing to her. “Eat that.”

  Indy didn’t miss a beat, taking it, and chomping right into it like the carnivore she was. Swallowing, she followed that down with a swig from her soda. Then she burped. Loudly. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.

  I chuckled as I brought my beer to my mouth. She wasn’t censoring herself around me anymore. That was a good thing. It made me believe that she’d be more likely to share her thoughts with me if something was bothering her. I had worked hard on tearing down those walls she had built around herself like a prison. Making sure those barriers stayed down required patience and trust, but it was a challenge I’d take on willingly now that I was beginning to understand her more. Indy had come so far already by telling me about her disorder. I wouldn’t give her a reason to regret it. “I admire you, you know. You’re pretty fearless.” It was something I had seen in her before, but never said out loud until now.

  Indy stilled, seeming to be embarrassed by the praise. “No. I’m not.”

  “You are. Christ, Indy, you don’t see it. But I do. I still can’t believe what you did. Running into a fire? That shit you pulled was dangerous.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know. And I’m hella impressed about that. Do you know how strong you have to be to go through all that and still be standing here? Fuck, some of my brothers didn’t even make it out alive.”

  She took a sip from her soda again, trying to look unaffected, but I could see her blush spreading across her neckline. “I just did what I had to do to help.”

  She was a fucking saint. If it weren’t for her, Glory MC would have suffered worse than we already had. And here she was acting as if she ran into fires daily. I stared at her in awe. Then snorted.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I shoot bullets to intimidate. If I go down, I have my brothers to back me up. You’ve been alone so long that you don’t even realize how hard it is to still be standing. No one’s a bigger motherfuckin’ badass than you are, babe.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re fucking crazy.”

  “No, you are,” I shot back. It was a risk to say those words and I could tell by the surprise in her eyes that no one had ever joked around about her disorder. But maybe it was time someone did. Why avoid something that would always be a part of you? Why let it weigh you down when you could make light of it? “I wish I were half as badass as you are.”

  Indy leaned in, smiling. “Then you’ll have to be half as crazy as I am.”

  “I am, baby,” I told her. “I’m crazy about you.”

  She laughed outright. “Smooth, Hastie. Real fucking smooth. Is that a line to try to get me in your bed?”

  “Don’t need any lines, baby. I’ll give you that ride you’ve be needing.” Her cheeks flushed and I grinned with satisfaction at having affected her. “Ready for bed?”

  “Mind if I shower first? I’d like to wash the sweat off.”

  What was the point? I’d only be adding to it. But being the gentleman that I was I said, “Go for it.” While she hit the shower, I pushed off from the table, hooking a finger around the neck of the bottle and downed the last of my beer. The dishes I made quick work of, tossing them in the sink to wash later when I wasn’t so dead on my feet.

  As I approached the bedroom, I could hear Indy humming softly beneath the spray of the water. She had left the bathroom door open. A blatant invitation if I ever saw one.

  Standing in the doorway gave me a glimpse of her silhouette through the fogged up glass. My mind could easily picture her wet, slick body.

  This woman was one of a kind, a priceless artifact that I’d been in search of my entire life. I had no clue how I’d come to get so lucky, or how a woman like her felt like she needed to hide herself from the world because of who she was.

  The fogged up glass between us couldn’t fool me. I saw her for who she really was. I meant what I said back at the table. It took brass balls to pull off what she had. Indy often thought herself to be inferior to others
, but the girl had it all wrong. She was fearless. Strong. Independent. And so goddamn beautiful, it made my chest hurt to think about it. I wish she wouldn’t doubt her own worth so much.

  Indy had just finished washing her hair and was now lathering up her body. She didn’t even cover herself up from my hungry gaze. Instead she shot me a come-hither smile that I couldn’t deny. I stripped quickly, removing my clothes in a trail to meet her.

  “I was wondering if you were going to join me,” she drawled as I gripped her waist and stepped into the hot spray of water. In seconds, I was drenched.

  “You looking at me like that is gonna get you into trouble.”

  She smiled and began running her soapy hands all over my body. “I like a little trouble now and then.” There was no trace of worry or uncertainty in her eyes. Just firm confidence. I pushed her away slightly and the spark of mischief in her eyes told me she had caught on. “Are you looking to get blown?” Her voice was teasing, almost as maddening as the feel of her hands working their way down my body towards my erection. The second she palmed my cock with her soapy fingers, I groaned loudly. “All you have to do is ask.”

  All right then. “I want to feel your mouth around me.”

  Indy dipped her head and ran her pink tongue along the underside of my cock. Her fingers grasped the base of my cock firmly, pumping me where her mouth couldn’t reach. The feel of her hot mouth taking me in caused my body to seize up. “Fuck,” I grated, too stunned for words.

  When I combed my fingers through her tangled wet hair, gripping at the roots to fuck her mouth, her eyes shot up to meet mine. And then Indy did something that totally surprised me—she winked.

  The little brat winked at me!

  Chuckling at her bravado, I gave a hard thrust and felt her throat muscles constrict around me. She took my cock like a pro, sucking hard every time I pulled out. If she kept this up, I’d blow in seconds.

  Her mascara ran down her face, giving her that undone look that I found undeniably sexy. Holy— My hand shot out to the tiled walls to steady myself, rushing to the end too quickly. Indy wrung out the orgasm, swallowing everything I gave her until I felt wobbly on my own legs. “Holy shit.”

  “I should’ve warned you that my blowjobs would take you to heaven,” she teased.

  “Kinda glad I found out myself, to be honest.” I would never get enough of making her smile. Indy made me feel like the hero I wasn’t. I’d always been the villain. The kind of guy who had had women in the past, sometimes in pairs, and ignored them like strangers the next morning. I took pleasure in dishing out pain, even killing for the club in necessary circumstances. And I sure as hell wasn’t clean of drugs, having sampled enough to be knowledgeable on it, but not enough to be addicted.

  But when I was in the presence of Indy, that changed. Suddenly I protected her. It was all about putting happiness in her eyes, not fear. It was about intimacy over intimidation. I found myself wanting to be close to her, wanting to gain her trust, even though I wasn’t a man who deserved it.

  “Come on,” I said through the chasm of emotion in my chest. As we got out of the shower, Indy wrapped a towel around her head and slumped into the bed. I followed, not caring about the puddles I was making.

  “I think I could sleep for a week,” she mumbled.

  “We got ’til morning.”

  “That’ll do,” she said as she relaxed further into the bed. Her skin looked incredibly tanned against the white sheets, her body looking good enough to eat. I decided I liked her there. A lot. I could spend my entire life servicing a warrior woman like that.

  But if Indy wanted to spend the night here to sleep, we’d need to cover her body up or I’d never take my eyes off her enough to fall asleep. I dug around for a clean T-shirt to let her wear but when I returned, Indy was already fast asleep, snoring softly against my pillow.

  Indy

  I woke to the sensual slips of Hastie’s fingertips on my breasts. He turned me over before I was fully awake, his mouth latching onto the velvet peaks that grew harder as he suckled on them. “Wake up, beautiful,” he murmured.

  Oh, I was definitely awake now. Who could sleep through that? My back arched as his hands joined the exploration, tweaking my nipples between his fingers. As Hastie moved his head from one breast to the other, I dug my fingers through his hair, reveling in the soft rasp of his stubble against delicate skin.

  Then, Hastie moved down, lower and lower until he was between my thighs. His tongue shot out to lick my slit and I groaned. “Hastie.”

  “Your skin is so smooth,” he said, running his hands along my stomach and inner thighs. Frozen in place and unable to breathe, I prayed for some self-control as Hastie and his magical mouth worked me.

  But Hastie wasn’t a gentleman about it. He pushed my thighs apart, pinning them to the side while his mouth found my core. As I arched into him, he yanked the rests of the sheets off us. “I’m going to love you, Indy. Even when you beg me to stop.”

  The sound of those words leaving his lips in a hoarse moan started a violent shaking within me, one that destroyed all thought. I clutched at the sheets around me, holding on for dear life as my limbs shook. Hastie surged up, settling between my thighs before pushing his way in.

  I screamed, rocked by the climax that hit me as soon as he filled me. Teeth gritted, Hastie pounded into me, spurring me into another shattering orgasm that seemed endless. Nails biting into skin, I forced my muscles to unclench as pleasure ripped through me. All this time, Hastie still moved within me, his eyes gone heavy-lidded with lust, but in them, I could see his focus, his intense desire. “Hastie, let me.” I flipped us over so I could give him the release he needed, but a quick shake of his head told me that he enjoyed me like this, splayed out for his pleasure.

  “Beautiful, beautiful girl.”

  “Broken,” I corrected.

  Hastie lifted his hand, fingers brushing against my cheek before he dropped them to my hips again. “Beautiful,” he repeated right as his thrusts increased, hitting me in that spot that had me gasping. There was no more argument from me, not when he was spurring me towards another climax so quickly.

  When I broke again, Hastie was there, whispering more words against my heated skin. Wrung out and blissfully happy, I realized that no matter how many times I broke, I could count on Hastie to be there to put me back together.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Blood and Smoke

  Indy

  “Are you really going to tell her?”

  I spun around to face Hastie. “What, you thought I was just saying that?”

  “I just can’t believe you’re really going to go through with this.”

  “I think it’s important that Seven knows, too.” Since telling Hastie about my disorder I found myself resting easy. It hadn’t hit me until recently that keeping my secret from everyone was eating me alive. And if I wanted to continue on the route I was on, it was time to tell the people around me of my disorder. Hastie looked at me weirdly then. “Are you okay?”

  “Just proud of you, baby.” I beamed underneath all that praise. Don’t get me wrong, I was still scared as shit. But as any person who had ever had to hide a big secret about themselves knew, being exposed before you were ready became what you feared most. After divulging my soul to Hastie, I never wanted to be afraid anymore.

  As we entered the home I shared with Seven, I could practically hear my heart beating in my ears. But I knew I had to go through with this.

  I used to believe that if I hid my disorder from people, it’d become less real. I could deal with the symptoms in private where no one would judge me. Working towards wellness was all up to me, but having a support group would help in creating more stability in my chaotic life. They could help me cope with my problems or even change the way I thought of the world. More obviously, it would improve my relationships with people. Telling Seven was the best thing for all of us. I called out her name.

  “In here!” she yelled from the kitchen. Pot
s and pans were strewn everywhere. Egg shells were thrown haphazardly on the countertops, some even reaching the floor. A white substance I figured to be flour covered the entire kitchen in a fine dusting. She smiled when she spotted me.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I asked.

  “I’m baking! A street vendor had fresh eggs, Indy! Can you believe it? Eggs!”

  I grinned, feeling her excitement in the room. Seven loved to cook. She was always experimenting in the kitchen, finding new recipes with what little variety of ingredients we had in the post-flare world. The last time we had eggs was when Hastie and Lucky had stayed the night during the storm. I could only imagine the delectable things we could make if we had access to all kinds of ingredients.

  Seven cursed when she opened the fridge. “There’s no buttermilk. How am I going to make red velvet cake without buttermilk?”

  I eased into a chair, trying to make myself comfortable. “Why are you making red velvet cake?”

  “I’m making a cake for Hanna. You know, a test run for her wedding.”

  “You’re going to bake her wedding cake?”

  She nodded. “Cool, huh?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had red velvet cake,” Hastie admitted from behind me. Seven and I looked at him like he admitted to being from another planet. His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It just never seemed like my kind of thing.”

  “You can have some of mine.”

  Hastie’s phone chimed with an incoming text. “Lucky is looking for me,” he explained.

  “He’s not welcome,” Seven said as she pulled out an electric mixer from the cupboard. I grinned at her nasty tone. Were they back to hating each other?

  No. Never mind. It was time to get back to the reason why I was here. “Hey Seven,” I began before I lost courage. “I have to tell you something. It’s something about me that I’ve been hiding from you.” Why did I suddenly feel like a closeted teen trying to tell my parents that I was gay? But like those who liked the same sex, I didn’t have anything at all to be ashamed of.