Beggar

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Beggar Page 16

by Shan R. K


  One of the brothers open the gates for the cars to drive inside.

  They park in a straight line, not too close to the porch. They lucky we got a big yard.

  The sleek two hundred grand cars are completely out of place with the amount of bikes lined up to the sides.

  First the driver and the soldiers step out of the cars. Three from the back Mercedes and four from the front. All the men are wearing black from the sun glasses, to the suits that they are straightening. It's the men that step out from the two cars in the middle that got my attention.

  The blonde headed guy with the light beige suit and white shirt is a familiar. Vincent Stone. He is Killers half brother from his father's short marriage to Vincent's Italian mother.

  Beggar struggles to leave my warmth. And I don't want to let her go as I release her from the safety of my arms. I follow behind her, but not too close. No way am I letting her get near them alone, family or not.

  Killer goes straight to the man in the beige suit and punches him solid in the stomach. The guy barely flinches.

  It's those seconds when I take my eyes off Beggar does she run into Deno's arms. I walk closer to the Marfia sizing him up.

  He has on a dark charcoal suit with a light blue shirt. Out of all the guys in his circle he is the most under dressed. The most deadliest too.

  Deno has a reputation that's simple, no one fucks with him and lives to speak his name. I watch his hazel eyes crinkle as he tugs on Beggars hair and she swats him away like a naughty child.

  Why is she so care free with him?!

  Jealousy has many ugly heads, men fought wars, lost their lives, killed their brothers because of that one feeling, the fucked up part about is , you just can't fucking help it.

  I tell myself he is her damn family, I shouldn't be getting pissed off. But I can't help it as I feel myself losing control.

  I hardly had anytime with Beggar, we’ve barely spoken. Normally people get to know each other before things progress, with us it's the opposite. We jumped right into the sack, before we learnt the comfort of holding hands. But since I've met Beggar nothing about her is normal, easy. Nothing about this deep need I feel for her is normal either.

  Then this guy comes and she's smiling at him like he holds the keys to the moon, and she looks so fucking beautiful. I wish she smiled at me like that. I clench my fist to my side, grinding my teeth together.

  Killer must sense the tension because his eyes find mine and he gives me a chin lift. Letting me know he has her back. I get the fuck out of there.

  My boots cover the distance to the porch, where my brothers are waiting with grim faces. I don't keep eye contact with any of them. The few pats on my back does help calm me somewhat. It ain't easy when a brother has a new woman. It's a hell of a lot less when you don't even know her name.

  Most of these guys know how it is. Me- I've never had a relationship before Falon. Growing up as a biker then joining the navy didn't allow me the time to have one. My dad made me prospect for a full year before I got patched in. By then I was too busy going to fucking war than to have time for dating. So it isn't a surprise when I say that I never dated a non-biker girl before Beggar.

  Texas taps his hat as I pass him to go into the clubhouse. I don't need to look at the brother to know he’s keeping his eye on Killer and Beggar.

  A few minutes later I'm in the kitchen preparing food for Aron. It's my day to cook, but Venus and Chadley handled the breakfast this morning.

  Good thing too, Chadley is an excellent cook, she runs The Pritz Corner, the clubs restaurant here in Kanla and will work in the club once we opened doors next month. She's also an emotional person, so when she's in a mood, no food, no baking nothing. And Chadley is going to be a wreck once we tell the women later today.

  We’ll have to be stupid to think we can keep this tight lipped. Wisp will figure shit out soon enough, she always does and she won't be quiet about it. After and Mercy are already in the know but they've known all along.

  I watch the omelet simmer. The vibration from my pocket accompanied by the mute tone puts a smile to my face. I switch off the stove and slip my iPhone out.

  “What happened? Nurse MacDicksy ain't doing it for you anymore? Or did you just fuck the dick outa her.”

  The deep laugh on the other end is enough to make my entire fuckin’ week, “Ha, ha. How's my baby bro doin’, still fucking old Prez’s daughter.”

  Thorn, my only blood brother has busted my balls from the time I told him about Falon. He thought me dating her was the funniest thing I've ever done. I didn't bust his nuts only because he was paralyzed after some pussy stabbed him in the back a few years ago. He wasn't sure who pushed the metal in his spine. Just that it was in Washington and he was there for a pick up. It was hard to get revenge or find anything. I looked for the first year, the whole club did but even with contacts I kept ending up with nothing.

  The blue bloods just wanted the case closed and made a dead kid the prime suspect. The evidence was reclusive.

  I believe it was a professional job and I always suspected my brother new more than he shared. Which was what motivated him to get better, and the only reason why I never called him on it. It's a no brainer that he will seek revenge.

  Unlike my dad and I who live and breathe the club my bro decided to venture on his own after he left the Air Force. He started off as a bounty hunter and after a few short years, a fuckload of money, he opened an A-list Personal Investigation company. I'm fucking proud to have him as my brother. I’ve always looked up to him growing up, he was my hero. He practically raised me after mom left, not one day did he complain.

  He asked me to join him years ago, but I always knew that I’ll end up with the club. My brother knew it too, because he never asked me again.

  “Nah man, I gotta new woman, she's definitely the one, her names Beauty, can't wait for you to hurry your ass up and meet her.” I say.

  He’s so silent I look at my screen to make sure he hasn't cut the call.

  “Serious? You shitting me,” He laughs, and I know it's real, it's always real when Thorn laughs, “Jesus, she must be a fucking nun to have you dumping Falon’s ass, I bet she isn't too happy about that.”

  I flinch, and I'm glad he can't see me do it, “I haven't told her yet, was waiting for her to get back from Barfa and break things down gently, but there's some shit happening with the club and Beauty is in the middle of it.” I don't elaborate because he isn't a member so I can't tell him shit, and he doesn’t ask.

  “And your woman's okay with this?”

  “Haven't really gotten down to tell her.”

  He groans, “Damnit Logan, that shit got doomsday disaster all over it. Dad know?”

  “He will, come sunset.”

  I hear the female voice in the background and I know he’s talk time is up, “Don't worry about it, you’ll be out before you know it.”

  He grumbles, “That's why I called asshole, not to listen to you dig your own grave, Doc is releasing me a week early. I’ll be home soon, was thinking of coming to Kanla. Marcel is running the company for me. I need you to get me a place.”

  “Why don't you stay in the clubhouse?”

  “I'm not cleaning no toilets.” We both laugh as we say our goodbyes and I'm a whole lot better with his news.

  It's not much time later that I hear Beggar come into the kitchen. Her legs are making up the distance in a slow perusal toward me. She's nervous. I've never seen her nervous before. It's a first and shoot me if I'm not turned the hell on.

  I'm standing by the oven making extra eggs for Aron and Venus but my eyes are trained on Beggar.

  “You done with your family?” My question comes out casual but we both know it's not.

  “Yes, he's my cousin, harmless if you family..” She shrugs, like its no big deal.

  Beggar is clueless of how sexy she looks when she lifts her shoulder.

  Her finger nails form an invisible trail as she steps closer to me. Her jeans shap
e her ass, hinting at her curves. I've never known a pair of baggy jeans could be so sexy on a woman until I saw Beggar in one. Her black eyes capture all my restraint. Draining me of logical sense at just one stare.

  I drop the spatula, put the stove off. My feet take up the remaining distance in four long strides. I grab her ass and I'm tongue deep in her fucking throat. Her tits rub my t-shirt covered chest as I grind my cock close to her heat. And I'm glad I took my cut off before cooking. I love how tall she is. I love how my cock rubs her abdomen. She's sensitive there.

  I stop the kiss and place my forehead to hers, my breathing harsh, “Tell me your name.” I'm not sure why I ask it, I'm not certain why I even say what I say next either.

  Chapter 23

  Beggar

  “TELL ME YOUR NAME.” He asks again.

  It's on the tip of my tongue to say it. But I can't, the words won't come. Instead I break out of his safety and say the only answer I can,

  "Beggar, that's my name."

  I don't look up. I can't bare it any more, the disappointment etched on his beautifully scarred face will no doubt undo me.

  “You keep lying to me Beauty. Fuck, how am I suppose to protect you, keep you safe.” He hits the wall behind me and I jump from the impact.

  “When I don’t even know your name.”

  His eyes shine with disappointment and hurt, my heart splinting. “I'm leaving, I'm being deployed and I don't know if I'm coming back, and I don't wanna die without even knowing your name. I don't wanna leave without knowing you safe, please I'm begging you.” His pleading with me makes it harder to refuse. Why, why does he want the one thing I can't give him. The one thing that will surely shatter his world.

  Silent tears leak down my cheek, my throat clogging, it hurts, but nothing like my chest, “I'm glad I got on the back of your bike that night Zero, and I'm even more glad that you spent the night in my bed. But you gotta let this go, you do protect me, when I'm in your arms I feel most protected, but spilling blood for me is not the answer. I can't tell you my name because I'm not her anymore, she wasn't someone I was proud of. She died a long time ago.”

  His face hardens, “I just want to know your name. Just one thing.”

  He pushes past me, I wanna stop him, I wanna run after him, my mind is screaming to me, telling me to go after him, tell him the truth. But you know what they say, you tell so many lies that eventually they start becoming real. All those lies become truths, until you don't know where the lie even started.

  I'M DUSTING UP THE bar area, all the guys and girls have left apart from Killer, Aron and I.

  I wanted to stayed behind with Aron to wait for Kylie Bray. It's my first time meeting the girl who got the VP wrapped around her pinky. Killer warned me she could be a trouble maker but I'm curious.

  More so when I heard Vincent has a thing for her. Aren't they related?

  “Aron, get your behind downstairs now. We gotta make tracks.” The loud twang accompanying the clapping heels coming from the front door perks me up. No greeting or pleasantries. She walks in like she own the place.

  Her red snake skin heels is the first thing I see of hers as she turns the corner to where I am. She startles when she spots me, but no unfamiliar surprise. Someone must've told her about me. I take in her shiny, naked legs and the blue sundress she has on that stops by the top of her thighs.

  Her long legs make up the small distance between us already extending her hand to me before she even gets here. I wipe my own on the denim shorts Chadley said was part of the uniform when we had other Chapters around.

  “The name’s Kylie Bray sugar, you lookin’ mighty fine in those cut offs.” My mouth gaps at her bluntness.

  The amused twinkle on her stunning face and slight smirk is not something I've seen on a girl before. Which is why I'm standing there speechless. She has this silent confidence that screams rich and privileged. Why she's talking to me? I doubt she'll give me the time of day if she met me on the street begging for her scraps. But she's Killers sister and Storm’s girl. And that's enough for me.

  “Beggar. You want something to drink?” I'm aware that Kylie is three years younger than me, so offering her alcohol is against the rules unless I'm told other-wise. I'm also aware that I look at least five to six years older than her when I'm barely three.

  “I can get it myself.” She chirps but makes even that annoying sound, cool. Kylie Bray is something else.

  She tilted her head to the side the same as Aron likes to do. He’s in Killers room playing PlayStation with his uncle.

  The thought makes me smile and has Kylie giving me speculative look, “So what's your story Beggar, besides the fact that you were a beggar and shacking up with my heartless jackass friend Zero, and don't deny it.”

  The all knowing glance that she gives me from across the bar while I dry the glasses makes me want to laugh. She's so young and carefree, something I've never had a chance to be.

  “Not much to tell.” I say as I put the dry glass on the tray in front of me and grab another.

  “Or plenty to tell, and I just don't trust you Kylie, well not yet anyway.” She answers back with an arch of her brow before standing up from the bar stool she was sitting on.

  “Not much to tell, you already know I’ve lived on the streets my whole life. I'm twenty one and shacking up is not the word for what Zero and I are doing . He sleeps in my bed.”

  “Right.” She drags out. Kylie is taller than me by a good couple inches. Her body is lean and toned, that would look just as nice encased in black jeans and a bright yellow vest with a catch phrase, ‘Pleeeease let it knock you,’ as the short blue number she's wearing.

  Her make-up free face breaks in to a big smile, “So, wanna join me for lunch Beggar, say two weeks time?”

  “You wanna have lunch with me?”

  She looks affronted by whatever she sees on my face and loses some of that smile. “Well I wouldn't ask if I didn't, sheesh woman.” She snaps.

  I think it over, as she mumbles something like, ‘what's there to think about.’

  I'm not a hundred percent certain I’ll be here, but I nod with a small smile of my own.

  “Great, I’ll see myself out once Aron gets his ass in my car.” She says this while pulling a soda pop from the fridge next to me.

  “What should I tell Storm.” I ask.

  Her response is a tinge of red marking her cheeks, “Nothing he doesn't already know.” She winks at me with a salute before she walks off. I watch her go, shoulders back, feet sure and brisk. Will I ever be able to do that. The thought is absurd and dumb, I'm never going to. I skipped feminism the day I was born. I'm just a beggar.

  With that thought I get back to my job of clearing the bar, my first paying job. I'm thankful to The Satan Snipers that I'm not sleeping on the streets and I’m a long way from Washington. I would never allow the Famiglia to claim me. I couldn't. I wouldn't force my family into a war. Which is why I can't let The Satan Snipers help me too. My new start just has to wait another time.

  The club hasn't made a decision on what they plan on doing. Rounder told me that whatever they decide I’ll be safe. What he doesn't know, is that as long as Lucca breathes I will never be safe.

  My day passes without a word from Zero and it's the first time I'm left alone in this big farm house. I spend my day cleaning, vacuuming the carpets and wiping the floors. Anything to get my mind to quieten.

  A setting sun and still no sign of anyone besides Killer who got a call and left hours ago. I head up to my room.

  Kylie and Aron are probably back in New York by now. She gave me her number to give her a call if I was ever in Washington again.

  A few days ago I would have laughed about that happening. No way was I setting foot in that place.

  Now I'm laughing because ain't I the poster girl for shit luck. I shake my head as I look at my leather bag ducking partially under the bed. I bend down, pick it up and throw it on top.

  My night comes to show its h
aunting presence, reminding me of my limited time with Zero.

  He hasn't called and I don't blame him. He asked me for one thing, and it's a basic question to some, but I'm not just some.

  A part of me wants to curl up in a ball and cry for hurting a man that I hardly know, but yet has come to mean so much to me it's confusing at the same time amazing. A man that saves me a little each day.

  Another part of me wants to curse him and hurt him for asking for the one thing I’ll never be able to give him. But the rest of me, the hardened pieces, the dead soul that is my making owns me. Contrary to what the club thinks, I'm not a damsel in distress. I just have bad dreams and a monster that won't leave me alone. I am a survivor. The evidence is in the black leather zipped bag that sits on my bed in front of me. I don't open it, not yet but soon.

  It's hours later when the bikers get back. I hear the rumbles just as I'm jumping into the bath tub of scalding water. My head goes back to rest against the soft bath pillow, eyes close and I relax.

  “You look like a mans wet dream, did you miss me Beauty.” I jump at the sound of his grunting voice, the water splashing on the floor and a bit on to Zero's shoes. Shiny shoes. Formal shoes. My eyes do a slow and very thorough perusal of his body. He looks like my wet dream and it's no hardship when I say, “Yes.”.

  The black suit he has on is sculpted to his big frame. His thighs fill out the slacks as he steps closer to me and sits on the corner of the bath tub.

  I want to ask him a million questions and demand a billion answers but instead I get up and let the water drip off my naked flesh as I sit on the tub mimicking his pose except my feet stay in the water.

  “I missed you a lot,” I’m sitting naked on the edge of the tub, perfectly entwined with his suit covered body.

  “Then why are you sitting all the way over there, come show me how much you missed me.”

  My brass leaves me, as I slowly twist into him, my mouth closer to his lips, and kiss him, it’s a peck, a test. I can't believe he is here, in the bathroom, with such hunger in his eyes after everything. He grips my left hip, and it's a dirty reminder that my body is wet and naked against his hands, that are rough and big. Trailing his fingers down my wet thigh, until he reaches the back of my knee, he slips his hand between my thighs, fast, until he cups my pussy. I gasp at the different feeling in his touch, I knew Zero is a man of action, but not like this.

 

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