by Archer, Addy
First thought that comes to mind is: I’m going to kill that little birdy. Second thought: “You’re not getting anything from us. The bitch stole from us, and she got what she deserved. And let me rephrase it to make it very fucking clear. She worked for us, and we handled our own business.”
“The bitch misinformed you. She belonged to me. The only reason she was at your whorehouse is because of her boyfriend. Like I said, besides the cash, you owe me the sister to replace the whore. Consider the little show-and-tell I gave you just now a warning of what’s to come if you decide not to listen. My partners won’t miss next time. You have twenty-four hours to deliver her.” Romero hangs up when he’s finished his rant.
Anger rages hot through my veins. If I have to kill Romero and that whole damn MC he has behind him with my bare hands, so be it. Because no one is getting their hands on Angie. This has nothing to do with club business and everything to do with protecting the woman who’s managed to crawl under my skin.
C H A P T E R E I G H T
~ ANGIE ~
They have been in church for hours. I’m a bit nervous with all the shouting and aggression that happened before they started their meeting. I’m guessing it’s not just Romero they’re taking care of, and it shouldn’t be such a surprise. An MC has more than one thing to handle at a time, right?
These guys have multiple businesses to run. I know for sure they run a few whorehouses, but the rest of what they do, I have no clue. So, I decided to hide in the kitchen to make my hands busy while they talk business. Kylo is sitting at the table, feet up and his phone in hand. He’s one of the prospects and not allowed to be in church.
I’ve seen him around a few times since I’ve been here. Hunt told me Kylo was a friend of Myk. I’ve also noticed him shooting angry looks at me, Alaric, and at Hunt. I’m guessing he isn’t very happy that Myk left this world before his expiration date was up. But it wasn’t like there was a choice in things. And Kylo is a prospect, he should be aware of the rules and loyalty and all it takes to be a full member. Because that’s what he wants, right?
Whatever. I’ve decided to stay out of it. It’s not my business; it’s Alaric’s. He’s the president, and if he wants my help, all he has to do is ask. Or if they need to get rid of a body, then I’d absolutely be a great help.
Though, I do love how Alaric suggested I check out the possibilities of an education. A change in career, to learn something other than dealing with dead bodies, has been a dream of mine for so long. I’ve decided to take him up on it; this whole plot twist in life I have going on at the moment is the next step for me.
First, all of what’s going on needs to be handled. I have to be able to go in and out of this clubhouse without danger lurking at every turn. So, till that’s all cleared up, I’m sticking to the safety and mindless tasks, and right now I’m making spaghetti. My eyes slide to Kylo as I’m stirring the sauce on the stove. The angry looks I mentioned? He’s all smiles now.
I know he doesn’t like me since I’m always getting a glare too, but I do wonder… “Finally smiling I see. That’s a good thing, right?”
“There’s nothing good about any of this shit,” Kylo snarls. And I swear I hear him mutter, “Fucking cunt, it’s all your fault.”
I point my sauce-covered spoon his way and snap, “Call me a cunt again, and I will make sure none of the guys in this MC know what happened to your body. So, don’t start with laying the whole ‘it’s your fault’ guilt trip on me because you clearly don’t know anything.”
I don’t have to add anything else. Everyone in this MC knows very well my business is to make sure places are left squeaky clean after killing. Now, I might have never done the whole killing part, but have you ever moved a dead body? I can tell you right now it’s easier dealing with a live person than dead weight.
And I might have a spoon in my hand, but the kitchen knife I used to cut the tomatoes is within reach. And I’m pissed off enough to use it. His eyes tell me what he’s thinking, and my hand slides to the counter. Kylo is on his feet and in my face in the next instant.
Before I can react, he has me restrained against the wall. “You’re the cunt who could have just given her the money so she didn’t have to steal. Myk told me all about it. He didn’t have a choice in any of it. Did you know he loved her? They were going to pay off her debt, and she was going to get out. Xandra was working hard to pay off her debt, but you only added to it. She was your fuckin’ sister, but you didn’t care, you worthless cunt.”
Panic should set in, but instead only calmness embraces me as I try to croak out my words. “I didn’t add to it. I paid her debts once before. I paid for her mother’s treatment. She lied to Myk. And you know damn well she was never going to quit something she loved doing. She didn’t love Myk; she loved taking advantage of everyone.”
“You’re wrong. Xandra wouldn’t lie to Myk. She loved him. Myk did the right thing, and he ended up dead. Now you’re going to die too.” His hands flash up and wrap around my throat, cutting off my air supply.
His grip is crushing as black spots start to appear in my vision. I don’t have a choice. I don’t have time to think things through. I can only muster enough force to drive the kitchen knife deep enough into his side at an upward angle, so it slips underneath his ribs to pierce his lung and heart. I guess my knowledge of the human body does come in handy.
I may not have gone to school, but I’ve learned a lot from cleaning up bodies and hearing explanations from killers and my father. Maybe I should look into being a paramedic, actually help the living instead of dealing with the dead. And why am I thinking about this now? Insane because I just stabbed a guy. Shouldn’t my thoughts be on the body bleeding out at my feet?
Shit. I’m in the kitchen of an MC filled with bikers, and I’ve just fatally wounded one of them. It was self-defense, but who’s going to believe me? I’m Alaric’s property, his old lady, but I’m staring at Kylo who expels his last choppy breath. I guess I’ve just signed my own death sentence.
Or maybe I could clean up real fast? How long will they still be in church? They’ve been there for quite some time already. I hear voices coming from down the hall, and I know my time is up. Like really up. As in the end of it.
My voice comes out kinda hoarse, and it hurts to speak, but I have no other choice and shout, “Alaric, can you come in here, please?” Yes, adding please as a magic word will help. Who am I kidding? I’m screwed either way. The whole “my perfect kinda life” thing is slowly washing away with each passing second.
A rumble of footsteps fill the air before Alaric bursts into the room. I catch his panicked gaze. Cursing from the guys behind him makes him glance down. I swallow hard and hold out the kitchen knife with the tip pointing down, offering him the handle.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I croak.
Though deep down I don’t think it matters what I say. I’m doomed either way. I close my eyes and let what comes next wash over me. At least I’ve tasted two full weeks of pleasure—some free time to build a new life—all before my life ends, right?
I don’t have to glance up to know it’s Alaric’s fingers that slide over my throat. I know his touch all too well. But my eyes flash open when I hear utter worry lace his words. “What the fuck did he do? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
He’s concerned about me? “It’s… it’s okay. I’m okay.”
Hunt is the one who takes the knife from my hand as Alaric pulls me into his arms and crushes me against his chest.
“That motherfucker was the snitch who told Romero Angie was here. I fucking told you he was the birdy Romero mentioned,” Hunt thunders, and it actually makes me cringe at the load of anger in his words.
“What?” I gasp, winching instantly by the pain shooting through my throat.
Alaric pulls my head back and pierces me with his gaze. “Romero called me about a half hour ago. He demanded I’d hand you over. A whore for a whore since he no longer has Xandra. He wants you.”
Not only am I baffled by all of this information but also because they are sharing these details with me. Are they going to kill me? Are they going to hand me over? All these thoughts are running through my mind and I’m starting to freak out.
I shouldn’t panic over my own thoughts. I never show fear, and I’m not going to start now. I have to get a handle on myself, though it’s hard to catch my next breath, and it’s all painfully choppy since I can still feel Kylo’s hands squeezing my throat.
“Get her some water, Hunt,” Alaric snaps. “Angie. Calm down. Nothing’s gonna happen to you. Now breathe normal, dammit or you’re gonna pass out.”
“I’m not going to pass out, just give me a second,” I wheeze. “My throat hurts, and it’s not every day someone wants to kill me and I end up killing him. Not to mention, I’ve never killed a man. Cleaned up? Uncountable times. Done it myself? No, sir. Oh, hell, what a mess. This is going to suck cleaning up. Shit. The spaghetti.” Quickly, I turn off the stove and grab a spoon to check if the sauce is still good. Luckily it still is, and I grumble, “Almost made me ruin the sauce.”
Hunt chuckles and shakes his head. “Get her out of here, Pres. We’ll handle the mess in here.” He checks his watch and curses. “Fucking hell, I have to pick up Raven in three damn minutes. Gonna be late a-fucking-gain.”
“Go, Hunt.” Alaric is now the one chuckling. “Dog, you and Brewer handle the kitchen.”
Mumbled agreements ring out as I’m being guided to Alaric’s room. He drags me into the bathroom and starts to peel away my clothing as he inspects every inch of my skin.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I murmur.
Alaric cups the side of my face and brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “I have to make sure,” he croaks.
“He blamed me. He said it was all my fault and if I would have just given her the money, Xandra wouldn’t have had to steal the cash. Myk told Kylo and made it seem like he didn’t have a choice, that Xandra was working to pay off her debt. She painted a picture-perfect story of how she would get out so she could be with Myk. They blamed me because I didn’t want to help out by paying off her debt. But I helped her so many times in the past, and she wouldn’t ever change her ways. She lied to all of them, like she did to me so many times. Myk was lied to. Xandra pulled him into her mess, like how she always pulls me in too. She’s to blame, not me.”
“Darlin’—” Alaric pulls me against his body, but instead of letting him, I push him away.
“No. Do not darlin’ me. Xandra was rotten to the core, and I’m sick of it. Look at the lives she’s ruined. And now this other MC is coming for you guys? You should give me up. Hand me over so all of this will end. Xandra will get her wish from the grave. She can take me down with her one last time. It’s inevitable, Alaric. Can’t you see? All my fucked-up life will ever hand me is a mess I need to fix before moving on to the next pile of shit. And I’m tired of it. So. Damn. Tired.”
A sob rips from my throat as my knees threaten to buckle. I’m done. I wasn’t kidding when I said he should hand me over. I have to be realistic; they have to be realistic. It could all end with me.
“You can’t risk all those other lives, Alaric. If the other MC shot at Dog, Brewer, and Neo only as a warning? What will happen if you don’t give them what they want? Give me up. Hand me over. End this.”
“Never,” he vows so fiercely it makes me take a step back.
I watch as he turns on the water and gets rid of his clothing. Once we’re both naked, he pulls me with him under the warm spray and just holds me close.
“I’m serious, Alaric,” I try again. “You should think about your guys. Your brothers. Hell, I killed one of them today. Don’t you hate me for it?”
“What kind of fucking president would I be if I gave up my own damn woman? And you didn’t kill one of us. You killed a damn traitor. Someone who was giving information to our enemy. If you hadn’t killed him, we would have. And I probably should have told you this before I made you mine—but it wouldn’t have made a difference because all that matters is the fact that you’re mine, and we will face every damn consequence together—but like I said, I should have told you before I made you my old lady, being a part of an MC has risks. Risks of going head-to-head with rival MCs among other things. Like what’s bound to happen now because they attacked us first. We’re going to face this shit head-on. But first we’re going to take down Romero for bringing the heat of this fucking MC on our back before we can deal with them. So, no damn way are we putting your life in the balance of it all. There’s no need. We are going to fix this shit a whole different way.”
Maybe it’s because my air supply was cut off before, but my throat is starting to form a huge lump and trying to breathe is getting difficult.
“You make me think I mean more to you than just something to bounce off your cock. And I’m only putting it this way because it’s something you would say, and if I used my own words it would freak you out. Maybe since it freaks me out just thinking them in my head.”
“Oh, please tell me, because you’re right when you state that shit in words I’d pick to express myself.” The laughter in his voice takes away my need to hold back.
“I think I adore you. The way you stood up for me in the kitchen when I was sure you were going to kill me. I’ve never had someone who would pick me over everything else. It’s even bigger than when you gave Bruno that thing he owed you. And now? Now you’re here with me and not dealing with the mess outside of this room.” I swallow hard and add on a whisper, “Again, you’re picking me.”
“I’m here dealing with the mess in this room while my guys are dealing with the mess outside of this room. I hate how you came into this MC at a bad time and experienced firsthand how fucking betrayal stings. We’re normally a united front with no damn issues on the inside. Like I mentioned, we do face some struggle every now and then from shit outside the MC, but we always handle it. But right now, I am where I’m needed the most. We’re in the middle of things. The silence before the storm so to say. I have a few of my guys gathering information on Trigger Pull MC; they’re the ones Romero works with. I have two prospects staking out Romero’s place so we’ll know what the best time to kill the fucker. And a few of my other brothers are cleaning the mess in the kitchen while Hunt is picking up his daughter. See? Everything is under control.”
“Okay.” I sigh. Seeing his point of view, I decide to let it go and trust him because it’s all draining the life out of me. “But can we do the whole ‘I love fucking you,’ as you so kindly put it earlier? Because I’m in need of that kind of loving.”
“That kinda lovin’, huh? The hard kind.” Alaric chuckles. “Tough love, darlin’. You’re not getting it. You deserve more than that, and you damn well know it.”
His eyes are burning straight into mine, and the way he tenderly brushes some wet strands of hair out of my face makes me feel the words he just voiced. His gaze travels to my neck, and the anger flaring within him is clear to see.
I reach out and brush his lips with my fingertips. “No. It’s just bruises. They will heal.”
He grabs my wrist and places a kiss on my fingertips before guiding my hand to his shoulder as he leans forward to catch my mouth with his. Our kiss is gentle, caring, a soft reminder to make sure the other one knows how much we care.
The both of us walked a different road in life, and while we keep walking, our roads have crossed. Now we’ve joined hands and will follow one road forward together from here on out.
His lips leave mine and travel down to my neck where he starts to kiss the bruised skin. The water is keeping me warm, though it feels as if the steam of the shower is made by our heated bodies instead.
He hooks my leg over his arm and nudges the tip of his dick against my entrance. Instead of surging up and entering me in one stroke, which is how he always likes to take me—out of control and in a
frenzy of need—he now takes his time with slow thrusts.
“You feel so good. I love how you melt underneath my touch. The way you take my cock in your tight, hot body. I can’t get enough.” I can only groan in response when he lays out his thoughts against my skin.
Emotions are building inside me. “You’re mine. I won’t ever let go,” I tell him, needing him to know exactly how I feel.
“Good,” he grunts. “Because you’re mine, and I always keep what’s mine. Forever. You hear me?”
He rotated his hips and thrusts up roughly, hitting me deep at a delicious angle and almost making me explode. I gasp and moan his name as I rake my nails over his scalp to spur him on. He picks up speed, and the building pleasure becomes too much when he whispers sweet words right next to my ear.
My orgasm wraps me in overwhelming pleasure. Alaric’s hips falter when I feel his cum burst out in hot jets inside me. His fingers dig into my hip to keep me in place while the both of us try to take air into our lungs but instead breathe in each other’s pleasure.
“I love fucking this tight pussy, but I damn well adore the woman attached to it.” His words are a bare whisper, and I know they weren’t meant for me but spoken to himself.
Yet it’s my heart who heard them loud and clear, though I’m afraid to voice any words in return. The fear of losing him is too big. It isn’t easy with my history, but I do hope to leave it behind one day and not be afraid to relish in what life hands me. Grabbing hold with two hands and not ever letting go of whatever the future has in store for me.