by Lane Hart
“She was her sister, though,” Nixon Lopez, the dark-haired man with tattoos, says. “Kelsey lives almost two hours away. She wouldn’t have been in any danger by talking to her sister on the phone.”
“Talking on the phone would have only made Kennedy want to see her in person, which could’ve put her at risk. It’s fucked up but true,” I tell him. “That’s why most of us don’t have old ladies. Pushing the people you love away is the only way to make sure that you don’t lose them the way we lost Kennedy. Since he lost her, Torin’s blamed himself for not calling off the wedding. If Kennedy had stayed at home with your family, she would still be alive.”
“It wasn’t like Torin kidnapped her and forced Kennedy to be his wife,” Sasha argues. “She loved him enough to take the chance.”
“And now we can’t ask her if she regrets it, can we?” I snap at her.
“She wouldn’t,” Sasha whispers.
Unable to even look at her beautiful face right now, I turn back to Kelsey and her men and say, “I’m so fucking sorry you lost your sister, and I wish I had answers for you. Hell, I wish I could go back in time to the night she met Torin when she was waitressing at that little BBQ joint and tell her to not leave with him.”
“She left with him the night they met?” Kelsey asks as she turns back to face me.
“Yeah,” I reply. “We were just passing through Wilmington on a run and stopped to eat lunch. The second Torin saw her, he told the rest of us to go on home because he wasn’t leaving until he got a chance to talk to her. Guess she liked whatever he said, because she stayed here that night and never left again. She even put up with my brother when he would fuck up and be an idiot.”
“I missed her,” Kelsey says with a sniffle. “My mom and dad wouldn’t even come up here for the funeral because they blame the MC. I blamed Kennedy. I loved her enough that I could’ve handled the risks. She should’ve known that.”
“I’m sure she did,” I tell her. “That’s why she decided for you. Shit around here is volatile. I’d hate for you three to get caught up in this mess.”
“We’re staying for the funeral,” Kelsey says, showing the same stubbornness as her sister.
“I figured as much,” I tell her with a smirk. “I’ll let Torin know that you’re here, and we’ll be sure to save you seats at the front tomorrow.”
“I appreciate that,” the dark-haired guy says, holding out his hand to me. “I’m Nix, by the way.”
“Yeah, Nixon Lopez and Cameron Hines. I recognized you,” I tell him as I shake his hand and then Cameron’s. “I hate we had to meet under these circumstances. But as you can see from the bar full of men in leather, we all loved Kennedy. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, and I promise we’ll avenge her and the baby’s deaths.”
With a nod, Kelsey says, “We’ll see you tomorrow,” and then her and the men walk off toward their car.
“You’re not pushing me away out of fear,” Sasha says from beside me. Grabbing the collar of my cut to make me face her, she says, “Chase Franklin Fury, are you listening to me?”
I glance around to make sure no one is around before I warn her. “Woman, if you ever use my middle name again in public, I’ll spank your ass raw.”
Watching her lips, I know what she’s gonna say probably before she does. More importantly, my cock twitches with anticipation.
“Franklin.”
When I scoop her up in a fireman’s carry, she shrieks and then laughs as I carry her back through the bar. We’re greeted with whistles and cheers from the crowd before I take her down the stairs to my room and toss her on the center of the bed.
I follow her down, attacking her mouth furiously. I hate how hard-headed she is, but love it at the same time. I’m a selfish bastard, because I need her in my life even though I know I shouldn’t condemn her to this type of lifestyle. Soon. I’ll let her go soon, I promise myself as I tear her shirt and shorts off.
“This week is the first time I’ve worn shorts in public,” Sasha admits, making me freeze. “I was embarrassed for anyone to see my scar at the station or on television, but here? I know that the people upstairs won’t judge me. They all have scars, some you can see and some you can’t, so they don’t make me feel bad about it.” Reaching down, she rubs her fingers over the long, thick scar. “This place is like home to me, not just because of you.”
“We’re going to kill Hector and everyone associated with him,” I warn her.
Her fingers stroke along my jaw and down to my beard before she says, “I know that.”
“And you’re okay being with a murderer?”
“Yes,” she answers without hesitation. She takes off my cut and pulls my shirt over my head. “I already knew that, remember?”
“I’m not gonna change. I know women think they can fix men or what the fuck ever, but this is me, and no matter how much I love you, I won’t leave the MC.”
“Yeah, I know that too,” Sasha says. Her fingers pop the button on my jeans and slide the zipper down. Reaching inside the open flap, she fists my cock and gives it a hard stroke. “Now stop trying to think of ways to scare me off and fuck me already. Didn’t you say something about some spanking?”
“Fuck, yes,” I tell her. Grabbing her waist, I flip her over to her stomach and then peel her panties down just under her ass cheeks so that my palm can smack one side.
“Oh, God,” Sasha moans as the entire length of her body jerks off the mattress.
I slap the other side of her ass hard, getting the same reaction before I band an arm around her stomach to raise her up to her knees. Then, I spread her legs apart to swat at her pussy.
“Ahh, yes!” Sasha cries out, but it’s muted with her face buried in the sheets. “Don’t stop,” she begs with her ass in the air, squirming in search of my hand that I pulled away. But I don’t give her my hand again. Instead, I lean forward and lick her slit from the front all the way to the back where my tongue runs circles around her puckered hole.
“Oh, god, Chase!” she moans as her hips rock, wanting me to lick her on her needy little clit instead. I bury my face in her pussy to give her what she wants until Sasha nearly screams down the walls when she comes on my face. No matter how many times I soap it up, I bet I’ll smell her scent in my beard for fucking days.
Still kneeling behind her, I keep an arm around her waist to lift her hips and line my cock up with her slick entrance.
“Fuck!” Sasha and I both shout as I plunge into her depths, not stopping until I’m all the way home. Nothing should feel as good as her body surrounding my cock with its tight, comforting warmth. I hate how I crave being inside of her, with her, but I’m an addict and I can’t give her up no matter how hard I try.
My emotions show with every pump of my hips, the tightening of her hair in my fist while I fuck Sasha with more force than I ever have. I’d be worried I’m hurting her if not for her chanting her enthusiastic agreement and praise to the good lord above.
“Yes! Oh, God! Oh, God, yes! Don’t stop! So close! I need…I need…Oh!Oh!Ohhh!”
Sasha comes for an eternity, clenching and releasing around me for so long, milking my release from me like it’s the only thing her body was put on this earth to do.
With one hand holding some of my weight off of her so that I don’t crush her ribs, I collapse down onto her back. I know I need to get off of her so that she can breathe, but I love the way she feels being pinned underneath me too much to move just yet. Right now, for this second, she’s safe, and nothing can hurt her with me protecting her this way.
“Chase?” Sasha asks.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” I ask.
“Do you feel…any…better now?” she asks between pants.
“Yes,” I reply even though I know the blissful state will only last a few more seconds before reality comes crashing down on my head.
“Good,” she replies. “You’ve never…fucked me…like that before.”
“I know,” I agree with a cringe.
/>
“It was…fucking incredible,” she replies, making me grin. “Let’s do it again sometime.”
I finally make myself roll off of her, leaving her vulnerable to the world again.
“Are you angry with me?” Sasha asks as she curls up to my side and runs her fingertips over the cursive letters spelling out her name.
“No,” I tell her, and truly I’m not. I could never be angry with her. I’m angry at myself for being so weak and selfish that I can’t live without her.
“You wish that I had stayed in my own little world, though,” she states because she knows me so well.
“Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake coming to your house the other night,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t want to look back on that night with regret like Torin, thinking of the day he wishes he wouldn’t have married Kennedy.”
“Hey, just because that horrible tragedy happened to them, doesn’t mean it will happen to us,” Sasha says, raising up on her elbows to look down at me. “Maybe the worst thing that will happen to us was ten years ago when we both nearly died on the highway because of a drunk driver. It could be all uphill from there.”
“Every hill peaks eventually; and the bigger the hill, the steeper the plummet back down,” I mutter.
“That’s not true. It’s just the fear and worry talking,” she says. “And I get it, Chase. It’s gonna take everyone some time before they can start to recover from the loss of Kennedy. But it doesn’t mean that you have to stop living or being with someone you love to avoid heartbreak. Don’t you understand that I worry about you too?”
“I’m an outlaw, baby. You’d be stupid not to worry about me,” I point out.
“No, I worry about you because I love you. If you were a traveling salesman or an accountant working in a high-rise, I would still worry. That’s the flip side to loving people. You care enough to think about losing them and want to avoid it at all costs.”
“But I’m not a salesman or an accountant. Their old ladies don’t have to worry about retaliation landing on their doorstep if a business deal goes bad.”
“True,” Sasha agrees. “But those old ladies must be bored out of their fucking minds with their lame ass husbands.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have a life to live with a boring husband than one that gets cut short too soon because of the bad boy’s lifestyle?”
Sitting up in bed, Sasha distracts me with her naked swaying breasts before she asks, “Do you not know me at all? You and I aren’t that different. The reason you joined the MC as soon as you turned eighteen was because you looked up to your uncle and wanted the excitement he had in his life rather than the calm one your father has, right?”
I consider that for a moment, thinking back to the reasons I joined the MC. I missed my brother. And I didn’t have many friends because I was an asshole who could barely keep from flunking out of high school before I finally dropped out after our wreck. The MC offered me a place I felt like I belonged when I didn’t fit in anywhere else.
“My uncle was a bad ass, and I liked the idea of the brotherhood,” I admit.
“And you didn’t want a boring life…”
“And I didn’t want a boring life or a boring wife,” I stubbornly admit, pulling her back down on my chest. Thinking about the camaraderie of the MC reminds me of our group ride to the cemetery. Even though I’m scared shitless of putting her on the back of my bike, I want her arms around me on a day like the one coming up. That’s why I ask Sasha, “Will you ride with me tomorrow to the funeral?”
“Of course,” she answers right away.
“I mean on my bike,” I clarify.
“Again, the answer is, of course, Chase. I’ve been dying to ride with you again.”
“Don’t use that word,” I warn her.
“Sorry,” she says with a cringe. “I would love to ride with you tomorrow, and for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be. I will never have any regrets when it comes to being with you.”
“You say that now…” I start.
“And I’ll say it until the day I die,” Sasha assures me. “Will you ever regret joining the MC?”
“Hell no,” I answer without even needing to think about it.
With a pat on my chest, she says, “That’s exactly how I feel about you, baby. My only regret is that we spent ten lonely years apart. Oh, and that you never took me to our senior prom. I would’ve loved to have seen you just once in a tux, dancing with me. That’s it, though, the only regrets I’ll ever have when it comes to you. So it’s time for you to quit fighting it and accept the fact that I’m your old lady and I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sasha
Today will go down as one of the most emotional of my life, which tells you just how powerful a presence Kennedy was in this town and to the MC.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Chase says as he stands in front of me wearing his jeans and cut with a helmet in his hands. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”
“Put it on me, Chase. Everyone’s waiting for us,” I say as I glance around the Savage Asylum parking lot where all the original charter members are sitting on their bikes, ready to ride.
With a heavy sigh, Chase finally places the helmet on my head. And then, with shaking fingers, he fastens the chin strap and tightens it.
“Thank you,” I tell him, meaning not just for making sure my head is protected but for finally pushing aside his fear to let me ride with him.
He gives me a quick kiss and then grabs his helmet to get himself ready.
Rather than wear a dress, I’m in a black pants suit to make riding easier. I throw a leg over the seat and wait for Chase to join me.
First, he walks over to Torin, who is sitting on his bike. He stayed at the farmhouse with War and the prospects keeping an eye on him yesterday but also giving him space. Chase is trying to do the same, even though he would rather be by his brother’s side all day and night.
“You sure you want to ride?” Chase asks Torin. “Turtle can drive you…”
“No,” Torin answers. “I need to do this on my bike.”
“Okay,” Chase says, wrapping him in a back-thumping embrace before he comes back to his bike. “Ready?” he asks me.
I nod even though no one is ever ready to go to a funeral, especially one as difficult as today's.
Finally, Chase climbs on, and I wrap my arms tightly around his waist. He reaches down and grabs my right hand to kiss the top of it and then, flipping it over, kisses his name before putting it back around his waist.
Everyone waits for Torin to crank his bike before they all do the same. Then, their president pulls out first, followed by Chase and then the rest of their brothers in the lot.
There are hundreds of bikes lined up on either side of the strip for at least a mile to show their respects to Torin and Kennedy. The sight sends goosebumps up and down my arms because I’ve never seen anything like it. All these men, and a few women riding with them, are all hurting too.
The bikes on the street come roaring to life behind us after the original charter passes by. I can feel the rumble of the engines all the way through my soul.
Most riders stay on their bikes when we stop at the cemetery, because that would be too many boots stomping around on graves. There’s a white tent set up with several chairs and a garden full of flowers underneath. Kelsey, Kennedy’s sister, and her two men are already seated. They stand up to look out at the sea of bikes on the road in awe.
Torin walks up and hugs Kelsey tight before the two of them exchange a few tearful words. And then Torin takes a seat next to her, with Chase on his other side and me holding his hand beside him. The rest of the chairs fill up quickly, and the rest of the men stand behind them as we all face the silver casket in front of us. It remains closed, probably because the sight of the mother holding her child would only make this more difficult.
After the preacher says a few words, each of the members who came to th
e graveside line up to pick a white rose out of a loose bouquet. Pressing a soft kiss on the petals, they place their rose one at a time on top of the casket.
…
Chase
I keep looking over at my brother, waiting for him to lose his shit. Honestly, I don’t really know what to expect from a man who has lost his old lady and kid in one fell swoop.
Two days ago, he was tearing down his house. Yesterday, he isolated himself from War and the prospects at the farmhouse. They said they didn’t even see his face until this morning before they left for the bar. Torin’s like a ticking time bomb that we all know is going to go off; we just don’t know when it will happen or what form it will take.
He doesn’t say much before the funeral or during it. He simply stares at the casket as if he can’t look away. As they begin to lower it into the ground, the spell breaks and Torin jumps to his feet and turns to me.
“When do we ride?” he asks with a clenched jaw.
“As soon as you’re ready to go, we’ll follow you back to the bar,” I tell him as I get to my feet with Sasha’s hand still holding mine. I’m still not completely recovered from the tense ride here with her on the back of my bike. We survived, despite how scrambled up my guts feel.
“No, when do we ride?” he asks, meaning for Hector.
“Soon,” I say, glancing over to Kennedy’s sister and men and back to Torin to remind him that we can’t talk about that here and now.
“I have to do something,” he says.
“I know that,” I tell him quietly. “We’re meeting when we get back to discuss the details.”
“Good,” he says. “I won’t sleep until I’m putting Hector in one of those caskets.”
I nod my agreement, and then Torin strolls off down the grassy hill toward the bikes, barely speaking to anyone along the way.