by Brook Wilder
“If it doesn’t stop,” I said, “we’ll have to take him to the hospital.”
“No,” said Luis, “just do what you can here.” Luis swallowed a long gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle.
Momma cleaned the wound with boiled water, and I looked for the sturdiest thread in the kit. Her lidded basket held the things one would expect in a sewing box like thread, bobbins, and safety pins. But it also held things one didn’t sew with like forceps, surgical scissors, and cloth bandages.
I threaded a curved needle with sterile thread and started to suture the wound. I glanced at Luis. He didn't make a sound. He just grimaced and drank more whiskey.
“You’ve done this before?” asked Momma.
“My dad’s a hunter.”
Luis breathed heavily, but he listened to my childhood stories with interest as he stared at the slowly closing wound on his leg. I knew my hunting stories were distracting him, but I left the gruesome ones out.
“Do you have a mother, Jane?” asked Momma.
It was a fair question since I never mentioned one. “She died after my last sister was born.”
I was almost done. I had to close the wound properly or the end would rub against the skin while it healed, or worse, unravel.
“You’ll make a good wife one day, Jane.” Momma admired my handy work as we bandaged up Luis’s leg.
“Yeah,” I snorted, “If I lived on the prairie.”
We laughed a little, but it was the only time Luis looked melancholy.
With patience, we helped him upstairs and Luis lay back against the headboard with a loud sigh. I could tell he was drunk, which was just as well; it would distract from the pain. Downstairs in the kitchen, Momma and I cleaned up the bloody mess. As we worked, I told her what had happened.
“I know Luis appreciates what you did, Jane.”
I couldn't tell him my secret tonight, but I wanted to know more about him. Maybe to gauge how he'd take it. “Does he have any family? I mean of his own?”
“He has a brother, but his mother is gone. Or that’s what we think.”
A chill went down my neck and into my bones. I had to know more. “What happened to her?”
“She was an immigrant. Unable to find legal work, she got involved with the drug trade and become a prostitute. She had no legal husband. There was a man, but he was her pimp. It’s an evil life, Jane. I don’t approve of the MC, but for some of these men, it’s kept them together as a family and they survive together. They watch out for each other in a society that would stomp on them and brush them off their shoes. These men are strong. I know Luis. He may be a 'Romeo,' but it’s a defense to keep his heart protected. Do you understand?”
“I do understand.”
“I wish Luis would leave the club, but I doubt he will. The club owns him, and he owns the club.”
“Money?” I asked.
“No more than that. His life and soul. He’d end up dead, or worse, if the club hadn’t chosen him. But the club only picks strong and determined men. He’s no one’s pretty boy.”
My phone buzzed and without checking the screen, I answered it.
“Jane,” said a hard voice, “Where are you?”
It was Andrew and my throat closed as if I’d swallowed a ball of hard snot. I pulled myself together fast.
“I told you to leave me alone and stop calling my number,” I hissed.
“I have a right to call my wife.”
“Your ex-wife,” I corrected him.
“Your dad made me sign those papers. I don’t agree with them or the law.”
“You mean, he paid you to sign those papers.”
“I know you took a bus to California," he replied. "When I get there, we’ll talk."
I scowled. “I will never see you again.”
The phone was pulled out of my hands.
Momma spoke into the phone, “You will not call my house again.”
She ended the call and placed the phone on the counter. I went to reach for it, and her hand covered mine.
“You don’t need that kind of man. For all of Luis’s shortcomings, he always treats women with respect. You would do better with him. Now, change your clothes and go be with him.”
Momma glared at me with hard eyes. Her look dared me to take my phone off her kitchen counter. I tossed the bloody sponge into the bucket full of bloody water and headed upstairs to the bathroom to bathe.
***
Quietly, I opened his bedroom door. Luis was still where we had left him on his bed, with his head thrown back, resting on a pile of pillows. I thought he was fast asleep, but his eyes opened when a floorboard creaked under my foot.
Luis smiled. It wasn’t his sexy, seductive smile, but a sad one as he reached a hand toward me in need. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to disturb his leg. He patted the space beside his good leg, and I slid in carefully next to him, then folded into his open arms.
He was warm. I leaned my head on his shoulder and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. It was strong, but it didn’t bother me. It wasn't the same as when I smelled it nightly on Andrew’s breath, when he’d force himself on me while I struggled to get away. Luis would never treat me that way. He had respected my wishes when I had told him I wasn't interested in a long-term thing. But I had seen the happiness in Luis's eyes when he saw me again.
I nuzzled his neck. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better now that I have the prettiest woman in California in my arms.”
“That leaves 49 other states,” I teased.
Laughing, he pressed his lips into my hair. “You’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen and the softest, too.”
I forced myself to relax. He couldn’t know I was pregnant, though I wouldn’t doubt that Momma’s sharp eyes had told her something had changed about me.
“So, your father taught you how to throw a knife and suture a wound?”
“Yes, and to think I thought it would never serve any practical purpose outside of the woods.” I sighed and he held me closer.
I was the girl who fought off bikers and sewed up their wounds, and yet I couldn’t tell a man I was pregnant.
Chapter Nine
JANE
In the morning, I tiptoed downstairs in a pair of borrowed silk pajamas to look for coffee for me and aspirin for Luis. My clothes were in the wash, but I was doubtful the bloodstains would come out. Momma had only smiled at my assessment. She knew a lot of tricks that I wanted to learn.
She was in the kitchen dressed in an embroidered velvet green dress. Her waist length hair was pinned in a low bun at the nape of her neck. She looked amazing. I’d forgotten it was Sunday.
“Good morning, Jane.” She bustled around the kitchen. “What do you need?”
“Just a mug of coffee and aspirin.”
She frowned. “You need to feed a man more than a glass of water, Jane. There are plenty of leftovers in the fridge. Heat them up.”
In shock, I looked at the clock. It was barely seven thirty in the morning. “You go to church this early?” I gawked.
Momma nodded as she placed an old-fashioned percolator on the stove. “The Lord works seven days a week and so do I. I’m off to his house to praise him and to find out what my neighbors know. When the pot boils, the coffee is done.”
“Just like camping.” I took two mugs off the counter.
“Or living in Mesa.” Momma laughed as she left the house.
It would’ve been a shame to drop the heavy tray of food I carried up the stairs, but I managed to get it to Luis’s room without a catastrophe. Luis smiled as I placed it down on the bedside table. He seemed in better spirits since the attack, and he was teasing me again. I’d even caught him getting out of bed unassisted to pee. He’d argued he would pee like a man in a toilet and not in a jar. While he appreciated my country skills, but he was determined to use indoor plumbing.
I held the aspirin in my hand as Luis drank his water. He grabbed the pills and swallowed three.
�
��I wish we had stronger than this,” I murmured.
He looked at me over the rim of his glass. “It’s what I’m used to. I’ve never taken anything stronger.” He winced as he said it.
“I know other things that would keep my mind off the pain,” he said, tugging at my pajama top.
It was one of Momma’s, and the washed silk felt creamy against my skin. I almost didn’t want to take it off.
“We can’t do anything, Luis. You’re injured.”
With a tilted eyebrow, he gave me the naughtiest smirk. He leaned back against the headboard and flexed his muscular chest and arms. My willing body responded to the sight of his posturing on cue.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I won’t hurt you?”
“It only hurts when I don’t finish.” He pulled the sheet down past his flat stomach, tempting me with more smooth skin.
Luis was such a flirt, but I could play the game, too. Turning my back to him, I unbuttoned my silk top, and it slid to the floor. My wavy hair covered my bare shoulders. I knew Luis liked how my dark hair looked against my pale skin. I kept my back turned as I wiggled my bare ass in his direction and pushed the pajama bottoms to my feet.
“You don’t have panties on?” Luis’s voice was raspy.
“Why do I need panties with PJs? Do you want me to wear panties?”
Letting my shoulder-length hair fall across my face, I peeked at him over my shoulder from behind a wayward curl. My extra pounds had plumped my curves, and Luis's attentive gaze told me he appreciated my new fullness.
Covering my breasts with my hands, I turned around and faced him. Happy as a king on his throne, he stared at my naked body.
“I’ve never seen a prettier girl,” he muttered.
I cradled a breast in each hand and let my hard nipples poke out between my fingers. I lowered my head and parted my lips with a playful moan. My tongue darted out of my mouth and the tip poked at a hard, rosy nipple that sat high on my breast.
“May I touch?” he asked.
I crawled carefully onto the bed. “You’re my patient today, cowboy. You just relax, and I’ll take care of you.”
Cautiously, I kneeled beside his legs and pointed my bottom toward his face. Luis ran his hands over my ass and gave each cheek a hard squeeze. I looked behind me and my pussy ached as his gaze smoldered over my naked body.
“Your ass is hot, girl.”
I pulled the sheet away from his lap, and his hard cock was waiting for me. I placed my lips on the inside of his good thigh, careful not touch his wound on the other. I softly kissed his solid muscles and nuzzled his soft skin, delighted in the way the hair on his legs tickled my nose.
“You make me want to taste you,” I whispered.
I wanted him. And I could make him want me more.
I placed his glistening tip into my mouth, licking the smoothness and the tightness of his stretched skin. His eyes closed with pleasure. But when he looked down again, I gazed up at him as if his thick inches were the only thing that could satisfy me. Luis gasped and shut his eyes again as I sucked him into my mouth. His bottom lip trembled while my hand stroked what couldn’t fit inside.
The look on his face told me he craved more. I pulled my mouth away and trailed the tip of my tongue alongside the edge of his smoking cock. Luis moaned his gratitude and sunk further down into the bed.
“You're making me crazy,” he sighed.
“You like it then,” I teased.
Caressing the ridge of his tip with my lips, I swirled my tongue around it as my nails traced the sides of his hard stomach. His muscles tightened. Making him moan loudly, my tongue teased his hard as steel shaft and my mouth glided further down his length. Taking a deep breath, I took more in at a slow sensual pace. Luis’s knuckles turned white and smooth as he gripped the back of the headboard.
I wondered how often Luis just lay back and enjoyed sex. I watched him closely like he’d watched me enjoying my pleasure.
My loving act made him reach for me, and he wrapped my hair around his fingers. He panted my name and told me I was beautiful, amazing, and that he wanted to climb on top of my sexy ass. He promised me the world and everything in it if I wouldn’t stop.
I wondered if he would keep his promise if he knew everything.
His smooth hardness against my full lips stretched my mouth apart. And I felt the wetness in my swollen pussy as I sucked. I wanted to ride his hard cock, but I wouldn’t risk opening his wound.
I moved my mouth faster and deeper. His hands tightened on my head but didn’t force or squeeze. Luis froze my movements then shouted as his seed shot down my throat. Swirling my tongue around his cock, I swallowed as if I didn’t want to lose a drop. His deep sigh sent a tremor through my body.
“You’re what I’ve wanted,” he said gazing at me.
My breath caught. I wondered if it was the pain, the booze, or the sex, but he looked as if he knew what he was saying. I crawled up beside him, and he held me in his arms, pulling me closer.
“How’s your leg?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It aches but I feel better now.”
I smiled, and his finger slipped into my folds.
“God, you’re wet. So sexy.” He started to move his body but then he winced, and I made him stop. But Luis continued to press me against his body, and his fingers explored me.
“Luis, what are you doing?”
“I never leave a woman unsatisfied.” His lips lingered on my neck.
I wanted to stop him, but his attention felt so good. I panted and rubbed myself against his thick fingers. But he made another noise, and I wasn’t sure if it was a groan of pleasure or pain. I gently kissed his lips then gave his hand a playful swat as I moved out of his reach.
“I better get dressed,” I said, “before Momma comes home from church and sees what horrible sinners we are.”
Chapter Ten
LUIS
It was early in the afternoon and I sat in the kitchen wrapping fresh bandages around my leg. Jane was in the shower, and I should’ve stayed in bed, but if I had, I’d have been tempted by Jane’s sweet body. I could have spent all day holding her, but there was work to be done.
The bleeding had slowed, and tomorrow, the Cazadores would be on the hunt.
Momma had a somber look on her face as she entered the house with Diego. The old man wasn't a devotee, but attending service once a week gave him an excuse to flirt with the ladies. I hoped I wasn’t looking at my future walking in. Today, he looked unhappy and not like the man who had hopes of getting a plate of hot food and a pretty smile from Momma. Diego sat down heavily as Momma poured coffee.
“Luis, we need to talk,” said Momma. “The Disciples went on a run last night, attacking the corner store and at the playground. They’re cocky now that Pryor won the election.”
I was surprised Momma was breaking her own rule, discussing club business in her home that had been shot up because of the Cazadores.
“How are you sure of this?” I asked.
“It’s all they talked about in church,” replied Diego. “We only stopped long enough to hear the sermon. Father Aquino would never say anything to instigate violence, but he did talk a lot about Archangel Michael.”
“It’s worse, Luis,” Momma’s voice caught. “Two are dead and Carlos is missing.”
My breath left my lungs, as if something had knocked the wind out of me. I hadn’t checked in with my brother, Carlos, for days. Hector had warned me Carlos was cracking in his mind.
“Do you know who’s dead?” My voice was hard.
“No, no one knew the names at church,” said Momma. “But you weren’t the only one injured.”
“The Nation was also hit,” added Diego. “The auto body shop down on Edwards. They shot the place through with holes. They lost six members.”
I shook my head. I didn’t like the Nation, but they respected the truce. They had their own problems to deal with, so they stayed out of ours. But the Disciples, they were bent on
destroying anyone who was different. I tried to stand, but my leg throbbed from the deep wound. Since the morning, the aspirin had worn off, and I sat back down in the narrow wood chair. It creaked under my weight.
“Luis, take these.”
I wolfed down the aspirin Momma handed me as Diego scrutinized my physical condition.
I could tell by their downcast eyes there was something else on their minds, but they stayed silent. The two elders looked apprehensive as if I were the true devil and would consume them for being the messengers of wicked tidings and misfortune. Two dead and my brother missing, I couldn’t imagine what would beat this hard news.