He shakes his head before taking a pull from his beer.
“Don’t ever be sorry for offering my help in a situation like that, babe. I’d go over there right now and drag her out if I could,” he grinds out.
“She wouldn’t leave him if you did. Or she’d simply go back. She hasn’t hit her rock bottom yet,” I say as I set the pot of water on the stove and turn it on.
“I know. I hate to see it, though. Hate to see a sweet kid being beat down by an entitled douchebag,” he barks. It makes me laugh.
“How do you know what Scotty’s like?” I lift a brow and it’s his turn to grin.
“Made Sniper get me the info on your family when I was locked up. Wanted to make sure you were gonna be okay,” he says with a smile and a shrug.
“Well, you’re right. He’s an entitled douchebag. I hate him, always have. She deserves better,” I whisper, staring off into space.
“Like Sniper?” he asks, lifting a brow.
“Bates was good to her and good for her. They were just kids when they were together, but he loved her. She wasn’t a trophy or just some slut; she was his girl and he treated her like a princess,” I say as I stir the sauce in the pot.
“Hope she wakes up before it’s too late,” he murmurs as he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder.
“Me too,” I whisper.
FURY
Dinner with my dad was…well…interesting.
The old fucker spent the whole night flirting with my woman and playing with my son.
The fucking kicker? I liked it.
Well, I wanted to gut him for flirting with Kentlee, but I enjoyed how easily they got along and how much my son took to him immediately.
We eat and hang out with Bear before Kentlee shoos us outside while she puts him to bed.
Keeping to his schedule, which she says is important.
I’m not going to fight with her about it because in all honestly, I know jack fucking shit about kids.
Once we’re outside, my dad gets serious, real serious.
“You got a good life now, son,” Pops says as he takes a pull from his beer.
“The best,” I agree.
“Wish you could have found it earlier, like me and your mom, but what you got—irreplaceable,” he mutters. I stare into the night sky.
“Naw, I found it at the right time. Would’ve waited another thirty years to get it if I had to. What I got? Ain’t nothin’ in this life any better,” I say, sounding like the goddamned bleeding vagina that I am anymore.
“That’s good, son. Protect it, feed it, and for God’s sake, make some more damn babies. That kid is beautiful and needs siblings. My only regret was that I didn’t give your mother more children. She wanted them, you know?” he says. I nod.
I know. She told me once that she prayed to have more, but my dad was immersed in the club and didn’t want more baggage than he had at the time.
He loved my mom and he loved me, but more babies meant more time at home, and less time with his brothers.
I probably would have felt the same way ten years ago.
Now, though, my family’s what I want. They come first.
“Shit storm’s brewin’, son. I want you to be vigilant,” he says, staring off into the distance.
“Bastards or Aryans?” I ask. My dad shakes his head.
“No fuckin’ clue which ones, but mark my words they’re fuckin’ plannin’, and waitin’, and biding their time. Then they’re gonna strike with a vengeance,” he warns.
I agree.
The shit with the Bastards just disappearing is fucking concerning; and the Aryan’s blowing up one clubhouse, and then that’s it? Unnerving.
“I’ll keep an eye out, Pops,” I mutter. He slaps my back before we head back inside.
My dad doesn’t stay much longer. He’s got booze and pussy waiting for him at my clubhouse, so he’s ready to rock and roll.
He gives Kentlee a hug and thanks her for the evening, promising to make more trips here and spend more time with Bear.
I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He’s been slowing down lately. I wonder if he’s ready for retirement.
When he is, I bet dollars to donuts it’s here with his grandson.
Maybe it’s just wishful thinking; having my dad back on a regular basis would be a sweet deal. I miss the old bastard.
I take Kentlee to bed, but I don’t fuck her. I can’t. She’s been walking funny all day and I know that her pussy has to ache.
I fucked her long and hard last night, more than once, and then again this morning. I’m going to give her a little break tonight.
I’m feeling generous.
I wrap her in my arms and pull her back against my chest, taking in her soft body pressed against mine and her sweet scent that surrounds me.
“I like your dad a lot,” she whispers into the dark room.
“He likes you a little too much,” I grumble. She giggles.
“Well, he still looks damn good for his age,” she says. I squeeze her body in warning.
“Kentlee,” I grunt, which makes her giggle even more.
She rolls over in my arms and puts her small hands on my cheeks.
“I love you, Pierce. You’re the only man on this whole earth for me,” she whispers before her lips caress mine in a kiss.
“Get to sleep, woman. I’m trying to be a gentleman and give your abused pussy a break. But if you kiss me, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“My pussy is abused. Fuck, it hurt so bad all day long,” she admits. It’s my turn to laugh.
“I know, you walked funny. Couldn’t help but watch. Felt pretty fuckin’ proud about it, too.” I grin into the dark room and she huffs out a breath of air.
“You’re such a man,” she complains. I throw back my head in full on laughter.
“No shit, babe. Got the dick and balls to prove it, too.”
“Pierce,” she hums. I grunt. “Go to sleep, you caveman,” she orders.
I do go to sleep. For the first time in my entire life, I do it smiling.
This woman is mine. Her heart is mine, as well as her body. She takes me as I am, expecting nothing in return, but my fidelity and faith in us.
She has it.
She owns me, too—heart, body, and soul. She is my fucking weakness.
A weakness I never wanted and thought I didn’t need. How wrong had I been?
The love of this woman is worth anything and everything life could throw my way.
Chapter Twenty-Five
KENTLEE
A routine.
It’s amazing to think that in just a few weeks, Pierce and I have fallen into a routine. And it’s a good one. A great one, actually.
I’ve smiled more this past month than I have in three years. The loss of my family and then the loss of Pierce was a blow to my heart. It shattered it, really. But now I feel alive—free and happy.
Pierce has even taken me to the clubhouse for a few parties. I’ve been able to meet with other Old Ladies and get to know them. They are nothing like that whore Katie Powell.
Most of them are rough, but they are genuine, and they tell it like it is. I like that. I don’t mind knowing where I stand with people. It makes life easier.
One of the Old Ladies, Rosie, is coming over to have a playdate with her daughter and Bear this afternoon.
I can’t keep the huge smile off of my face as I make lunch for us and wait for them to arrive.
Rosie’s daughter is just over three years old, so she and Bear should have a great time together.
There’s a knock on the door and I know it must be Rosie, so I call out and tell her to come inside. Bear is still napping, but I know he’ll be up any minute.
I hear the front door open, but I don’t hear Rosie’s voice. I walk out of the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks at the sight in front of me.
The living room is full of men.
I don’t make a noise. My
only thought is that whoever these men are, they cannot know Bear is in the house. I must protect my son.
“Ain’t that a pretty little white girl?” one of the men drawls as his eyes roam over my body.
“She’s fuckin’ perfect,” the voice of another man says.
Then they charge toward me.
I turn to run, but they’re bigger, faster, and stronger than me.
An arm wraps around my middle just as another one wraps around my mouth. I pinch my eyes closed waiting for more to happen, but nothing does.
Strong hands wrap around my ankles and I am carried away from the house, away from my baby, and thrown into the back of a van.
I say a silent prayer for Bear. I hope that Rosie shows up soon so that she can get him and call Pierce.
I don’t say a word as the van drives off. The two men who spoke in my living room are in front, and the three who were silent sit in back with me.
One of them sits right next to me, the side of his body pressing against mine. I take a moment to look around and notice that all of the men are bald and tattooed.
Their tattoos aren’t anything like Pierce’s, though.
The man next me has a swastikas tattooed on his arm. He has a three leaf clover with the number six in each leaf. Then he has the number 1488 on his forearm.
The letters AB are also tattooed on his hand. I notice a renaissance looking shield and sword tattooed on his opposite forearm, with another AB right above it.
My eyes slowly take in the rest of the men and notice that they all have the same tattoos as the man next to me, but in different places.
“Who are you?” I hesitantly ask the man at my side.
His cold blue eyes stare down at me before he smiles. It’s not a friendly smile. It’s fucking terrifying.
“Your friendly Aryan’s, princess,” he says. My eyes widen.
Holy shit—white supremacists.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice wavering and trembling.
“Retribution,” he says, cocking his head to the side and studying me. “I wouldn’t worry too much, princess. You’re nice and pale, all that blonde hair and blue eyes. We’ll make sure we treat you right,” he murmurs. It sends shivers up my body.
Creepy as shit shivers.
FURY
Vault calls me as I’m sliding off of my bike in the clubhouse parking lot. I frown at my phone for a minute before answering it.
I look around the lot and don’t see his bike.
“Yeah,” I say as I step inside of the bar.
It’s fairly deserted, a few people milling around, but it’s a normal Friday afternoon.
I have some shit to look over and then finalize before the first run from SLC to Canada happens, which starts Monday.
“You need to get home, Pres,” he says. I shove my office door open.
“What for?” I ask distractedly as I power on my computer.
“Rosie came over for a playdate with your woman and kid. When she got here, the front door was open, Bear was screaming in his bed, and your woman ain’t nowhere. Her cars in the garage, though. I just checked,” he says.
Suddenly, it’s as if I've left my body and I’m on the outside looking in. I can see myself sitting rigid as stone, unable to move, unable to breathe, and unable to speak.
“Pres.”
Vault‘s raspy voice cuts through my haze and I shake my head to get my shit together.
“I’m in my office. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
I hang up the phone before he gets a chance to speak and start to storm out of the clubhouse, almost running over Sniper.
“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, not missing a fuckin’ thing.
“I want everybody at my house five minutes ago,” I growl. He nods.
“Kentlee?” he asks quietly. My eyes cut to his.
“Fuckin’ disappeared. She’s fucking gone,” I say unable to hide my emotion.
Snipe knows, he fucking knows my woman, and he knows how I feel about her.
I watch as something crosses his face—fear, anger, and rage mixed together. I feel the exact fucking same goddamned way.
Without another word, I leave.
I race home and find Rosie holding an inconsolable Bear while their daughter is wrapped in Vault’s arms.
As soon as my son hears my boots hit the living room, he cries out for me and wiggles out of Rosie’s arms, launching himself in mine.
I pick him up and wrap him tight without thought.
My boy, my baby, he’s so fucking scared.
Vault hands his daughter to Rosie and asks her to go to the kitchen for a bit. She doesn’t ask questions, just does it without a word.
Old Lady to the core, and a good one at that. Vault levels me with a hard look before he speaks.
“Rosie was supposed to be here at noon. She was runnin’ about ten minutes late. Says the door was left open, so she walked inside. Lunch is set out on the table for the kids and the girls. Bear was in his room screamin’ his head off, but nothing else was amiss. There were no signs of struggle, and the car is in the garage.” He tells me all he knows.
“It’s Bear’s nap time from ten to noon. Maybe there was a knock on the door and she yelled out, thinking it was Rosie, and whoever it was came inside.
“Kentlee isn’t stupid. She probably went because she didn’t want whoever it was to know Bear was in the house. I know her,” I state.
Vault nods in agreement. Though he doesn’t know Kentlee all that well, it makes sense that she wouldn’t want harm to come to our boy.
“Then we’re on the same page, because nothing else makes sense. She wouldn’t run. You’re engaged. She had all the shit out for the playdate, and her car, keys, purse, and phone are here in the house,” Vault confirms, ruling out any other questions I might have had.
“Retaliation,” I mutter.
“Retribution,” Vault mumbles before my house is filled with every single patched brother we have.
“Need to find her fast,” I tell the room of men, my brothers.
I walk out of the room, still holding my boy, who has cried himself to sleep on my shoulder.
I call my Pops.
This smells like the Bastards, but I can’t be sure. I don’t want to go after the wrong group and chance not ever finding her, or finding her too late.
“Torch called me,” my dad says as his answer.
I’m glad. I didn’t want to explain shit again.
“Who’s good for it?” I ask, trying to stay calm. It’s using everything I have inside of me to do so.
“I tried my contact with the Bastards and the Aryan’s, no answer on either. My guess? They’re in it together,” he suggests.
I let out a breath. Makes sense. Bastards have been wanting our territory for fucking ever, then we cut ties with the Aryan’s. All has been quiet because they’ve been planning.
“Together,” I repeat.
“Massive takeover,” my Pops offers.
I nod to myself.
Massive takeover.
They don’t know what they’ve done. I’ll gut every single one of those fuckers, one by one.
And slowly.
“I need backup,” I demand.
It’s not a question and my father wouldn’t turn me down even if it was.
“Already loading up. Be there tomorrow,” he says before he hangs up the phone. I let out a breath.
“All women and children need to be on lockdown, mandatory,” I tell Sniper, who is behind me.
I can smell the rage pouring off of him in waves.
“Done,” he says. I turn to face him.
“I want every man to stay here. We’re in planning mode, but I don’t want anybody overhearing us. How they figured out Kentlee was mine already, I don’t know, but if there was a leak, I don’t want to chance it,” I say.
Sniper nods before his eyes meet mine.
“What if the leak is a brother?” he asks.
“I’ll
kill him, slowly—deliberately take my time,” I say.
Sniper grins before he turns around to give my directions to the men.
Seconds later, Rosie is tearing out of the house and running to her car. I should give her Bear, but I can’t.
The boy would just cry.
He needs me.
I might be able to leave him with Tammy, but I’m not leaving him in the clubhouse. I don’t know how those racist fucks found out about Kentlee, but I do know that if it’s a leak in the clubhouse, I don’t want a soul knowing where my son is.
It’s time to plan out some murders.
I grin at the thought.
I’m ready to kill some racist fucks.
Now.
KENTLEE
I wish I could sleep, but there’s no way I can drop my guard around these crazy assholes.
They’ve pretty much been ignoring me the whole way, talking amongst themselves, and they are sickening.
They are a shame to the human race and they make me ill.
“Make the call,” the one next to me orders.
I can’t help but wonder if he’s the leader. He’s stayed quiet the entire time and has just looked straight ahead, at nothing but the wall of the van.
He’s unnerving.
I listen as a ringing noise takes over the sound in the van. The phone is on speakerphone, and I wonder just who in the hell they’re calling, until the voice on the other end picks up. I don’t have to wonder another second.
Pierce.
“Where the fuck did you take my woman?” he roars.
It makes me jump. The man next to me looks down at me, expressionless, but studious.
“Your little blondie is perfectly safe, aren’t you sweetheart?” one of the men in front says, his voice sticky sweet.
“Pierce,” I whimper as my voice cracks.
“You touch one goddamned hair on her head and I’ll gut every single one of you,” he growls, his voice low and menacing.
“You’d have to find us first, and we aren’t the type who will be found if we don’t want to be.”
Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 25