Page 17

Tank

T he common room is controlled chaos. Switch is yelling orders, steamrolling past Mira and I at the mouth of the hall and heading toward his clinic. Grabbing Mira I pull her further into the room as Fox and Nitro carry Jimmy down the hall, Dex holding his balled up shirt to the prospect’s abdomen.

Mira gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. I pull her tight into me, burying her face into my shoulder as I stand back and take in the scene. No one needs me wading in and asking what the fuck is happening, taking the attention away from the people who know and are formulating a plan. I’ll know all the details sooner or later.

“Wire! I need footage of what the fuck just happened here!” Marx bellows, gripping the back of a dining chair in his big fists, his knuckles white.

Chewy flicks on the projector, her and Remy at the main table, laptops open, eyes scanning for everything and anything.

“What are they looking for?” Mira asks, eyes wide watching the scene. The girls and Wire madly tapping away, the brothers all vibrating with anger, the Tombs checking all security systems.

“Got him!” He watches for a moment, flicking between screens, “That fucker Big D chased the prospect down,” he growls, jaw clenching.

“Anyone with him?” Rhodie asks.

“Three of those bullshit Japanese Fast and Furious cars.” Wire clicks his mouse and casts his laptop to the big screen, grim look on his face.

“The kid hardly stood a fucking chance,” Savage says in a low voice.

“By the looks of it, they never caught up to him until he reached Rose Grove’s outer limits. He seems like he’s keeping them at bay here,” Wire freezes the screen for a moment to brothers muttering “good kid.” “Then we hit a blind spot. By the time he hits CCTV again he’s slumped over and then it’s only two minutes before he wipes out in the compound.”

Marx lets out a feral growl, picking up the chair he’s been white knuckling and tossing it against the wall. “I want everything on this Big D motherfucker. I want his address, his bank accounts, everything. I. Want. It. All.”

Wire nods, looking at his team who all agree.

Marx takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “Are all the women and children accounted for?”

I take a quick head count, noting all the Ol Ladies are here, safe and sound. “Ol Ladies accounted for,” I inform Marx.

“The kids are all accounted for as well, they’re in the safe room with Mama Debs,” Remy adds, flicking to the safe room/movie room camera. The Bigs and Littles being watched over by Takoda.

“What’s going to happen?” Mira whispers into my neck.

“Not sure yet, Doll,” I murmur, dropping a kiss to her head. Having her in my arms is keeping me calm, and I have a feeling it’s doing the same for her.

“Rhodie, Rider, Savage, Dex and Tombs’s, I want you to lock this place down. Code Black security protocol.” He holds eye contact with Gus who nods then tips his head at his brothers and Pops, my MC brothers splitting off to follow Pres’s orders.

“We’re gonna get fuck all done with Jimmy in the back room, so I suggest everyone chills out until we have word from Switch. The outcome will determine which play we use.”

“If it’s not good?” Mira asks, her face damp with tears as she looks toward Marx.

“We burn them all down,” Marx says quietly, turning toward his office, his slow, steady steps thumping down the hall.

“You all heard the man,” Rhodie rasps, as he enters the common room having finished his task. “We chill out and wait for word. If you’re the praying kind it wouldn’t hurt the kid none.” I tip my chin at my VP and take a seat at one of the long tables, tugging Mira down into my lap. I need her touch to keep me from raging at the world.

Jimmy is a good fucking kid and a good fucking brother. He pours his heart and soul into the DRMC and I can’t stand the thought that he’s not going to make it.

I bury my nose in Mira’s hair and take a deep breath, letting her spicy vanilla scent invade my senses. A gentle hand lands on my shoulder and I turn to find Lovely, holding a tray loaded with hot chocolate.

“Sorry it’s not something harder. I want to keep you guys sober in case you need to ride out.” she says in her gentle voice, giving my shoulder a little squeeze before placing one cup on the table, then a second. “Everything will work out, you’ll see.”

Mira tips her head at Lovely, murmuring a soft thanks. She takes a sip and then looks at the gentle woman who looks so different in her new clothes from the woman who landed here mere months ago. “Is it your faith in God that makes you so sure everything will be OK?”

“I have faith, but it’s in the men and women we’re surrounded by.” She smiles and moves on to the next brother, going through the same motions, a comforting touch, a kind word, leaving cups of hot chocolate in her wake.

“She’s going to make the perfect Ol Lady one day,” Mira says, leaning the back of her head into the crook of my neck.

“So are you baby, so are you.”

Marx

Fuck. I scrub my hands down my face, trying to wipe away the fear and the fucking guilt. What the hell was I thinking letting the prospects watch the bunnies alone? Why the fuck did I pull back on their numbers? When did I get cocky and complacent? We have not one, but two fuckers coming at us and I make the move to split the prospects up. Tonight, what happened to Jimmy, it’s on me and me alone.

A gentle knock at the door has my blood pressure rising. I can’t take anymore fucking problems, not now. The knocking sounds out again, two gentle taps.

“Come in!” I bark, my tone cutting.

I don’t even bother to look up to see who it is, I stay leaning forward, forearms on my knees, staring down at my boots.

“I brought you something to drink.” Lovely’s gentle voice breaks through the haze of red, but not enough to snap me out of my mood.

“I have drinks here. I don’t need yours,” I growl.

I hear an inhale, then a gentle breath out. “You have alcohol in here. If you need to ride out, it will be better with a clear head.”

I let out a rough snort. “What do you know about it, Lovely? Hm? What could you possibly know about this lifestyle and us ‘riding out’?” I look up at her sweet face, challenging her. I’m an asshole and this caring woman made the mistake of coming in here at the wrong time, becoming the target of my ire.

Her shoulders pull in a little, shrinking before my eyes and I feel like a fucking monster until my gaze wanders to her face to find her staring at me, her dark eyes shocking me with the steel I see there.

“I may not know about ‘it’,” she says quietly, voice steady. “I may not know all the ins and outs of your lifestyle, but I know men. I know greed and jealousy and lust. I know rage. I know guilt. And I know revenge.”

Fuck. I look away, ashamed at the words I flung her way, designed to hurt.

“I know evil men and I know good men. You, Marx, are a good man. But your judgement is clouded by rage and revenge. You don’t need to be clouded by whiskey as well.” She nudges the sweet smelling mug of hot chocolate my way.

“I - it was my fault, Lovely.” I drop the anger, guilt overcoming me as I look up at her. “I pulled Jimmy’s backup. I underestimated the danger and got him hurt, maybe killed. I - I made a bad call.”

“And you’ll probably make more before your time as Pres is over.” She stands a little taller, shoulders back. “The question is, are you the type of Pres who can move on from a mistake, suck it up and lead your men, or are you the type of Pres who wallows in self pity, leaving your men to fend for themselves?” She turns and heads toward the door, stopping in the middle of the office, looking over her shoulder at me. “I know which man I would want at my back.”

She walks through the door, closing it behind her with a soft snick. I stare at the door long after she’s gone. Fuck. She’s magnificent.

Mira

The common room is a vigil to Jimmy right now. There is no laughter or familial bickering. Just quiet murmuring, a vigil to a prospect everyone loves. I glance over at Tyson, he’s sitting with his brothers while I’m on the couch with the Ol Ladies. I’m not sure what I should be doing, or if I should be doing anything at all. I try to wrack my brain for ideas. What would my characters do? What do the women in the books I read do in situations like this? Usually, they tend to leave the safety of the clubhouse and get themselves kidnapped, so maybe it isn’t a great idea to look for inspiration there.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on the men that did this. I’d make sure my Rev Room is well stocked for them,” Chewy says to no one in particular.

“Speaking of, how, ah how did it go with the last guy you took in there?” I inquire. I mean, I have time to spare and the whole Rev Room thing intrigues me.

“Boring. He didn’t put up much of a fight once he realized what was in his butt,” Chewy grins a little scarily.

“Wait, what was in his butt?”

“A batman bobblehead from his dash,” Blanche shudders.

My eyes fly to Chewy who’s sitting looking bored. “How the heck did it get in there? And was it like the whole thing?”

Chewy turns to look at me with a grossed out look on her face. “Of course it wasn’t the whole thing. Only the feet, you need to have a flared base otherwise it’d get lost up there.” She shakes her head and pats Chomper.

“And, just so I can get this straight in my mind, how did it get up there?”

“Oh, easy. I put it there. Mira, when you want to draw information out of someone, you want them to be very uncomfortable. You should probably write that down for your novels.”

“I think I’m good. And did he really need to be that uncomfortable? Like, I’m not sure what you did to him, but I’m guessing it’s pretty gross.” Chewy beams at me. “But, like, did you think maybe to call that Sergeant Davies guy?”

“What? He’s the worst police officer in the world! He would have let him go or something. No way. I needed answers,” Chewy answers, her face screwed up.

“I think you mean ‘we’ needed answers, babe,” Rhodie says, picking Chewy up under the arms, taking her seat and plopping her onto his lap.

“Well, yeah, but I also needed to know his obsession with Batman. It’s ridiculous for grown men to like a rich bully. Makes no sense,” she whines.

Heavy footsteps stomp down the hall and we turn to see Marx with a wide grin on his face, Switch beside him.

“The kid is gonna make it!” Switch roars, his loud foghorn voice drowned out by the cheers of everyone in the common room. “Bullet was a clean through and through, missed everything important. He looks like shit and it’ll be a while before he’s back up and running as before, but he’s strong and healthy and can have visitors in the morning.” He nods at everyone, the stress melting off his ruddy face. “Now someone get me a goddamn whiskey!”

The brothers all thump Switch on the back and all the tension that was hanging over the room like a cloud disappears. I’m snatched up from my place on the couch into Tyson’s arms, hugging me tightly, his face pressed into the crook of my neck.

“He’s gonna be fine Doll, thank fuck,” he breathes as I hold his head to me.

“Heads up Pres, we got Landrys incoming,” Wire calls out.

Tyson groans and I giggle. “Who are the Landrys?” I whisper into his ear.

“Blanche and Lovely’s brothers. Gator men.”

“Ah shit! Sorry Pres, I forgot to call them to say Blanche was back safe and sound,” Tav calls out just as three men who couldn’t be anything other than Blanche and Lovely’s brothers walk in.

The strength of those genes is ridiculous. Three identical looking men with black hair and short cropped beards walk in, all tall and seriously built.

“Great Zeus’s beard, these guys have to be shifters.”

“I know right!?” Nat crows, pointing my direction, cackling.

“Fuck this, we’re outta here,” Tyson says, gripping my ass, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist as he strides back to our room to the cheers of everyone in the common room.

“Tyson!” I giggle. He swats my ass and I moan, wriggling a little on the stiff pipe in his pants that is nudging my clit with every step he takes.

“Soon Doll, soon Imma make you feel so good you’ll forget all about those handsome bastards out there.” He smashes his lips to mine and I hear a door slam a split second before I’m sailing through the air and landing on a soft bed that smells like Tyson.

He stands at the foot of the bed, slowly peeling his cut off and hanging it on the chair behind him. He then moves to the side of his bed, toeing off his boots and kicking them into place next to the bathroom door, his colorful toes on display. Moving back to the foot of the bed he peels off his tshirt, throwing it somewhere behind him. Now, I’m not a fan of Magic Mike because the gyrating man strippers make me giggle, but this little strip tease? This is setting me on fire. The slow, steadiness of Tyson’s movements remind me of the man himself. Which I prefer. I meet his gaze, the heat shocking me into action. Holding his gaze I slowly remove my layers, peeling them off the same way he did until I’m completely naked on his comforter, Tyson enjoying the show so much he’s stopped stripping.

“You have too many clothes on,” I point out, and holy heck, is that my voice? When was it replaced with a husky sex worker voice?

His hands drop to the button of his jeans, he flicks it and tugs the zipper roughly, tugging them down. I’m on fire, but not enough to stop the giggles that burst forth when I get an eyeful of his sausage dog boxer shorts.

A large hand wraps around my ankle and I squeal as I’m tugged to the end of the bed.

“Are you making fun of my weiner shorts?” Tyson asks, playfully nipping at my inner thigh with his teeth.

My giggles turn into moans as he nips higher, closer to the motherland. My Batcave. No, that sounds weird. Especially after what Chewy did with that Batman- a whoosh of breath leaves me as Tyson’s tongue makes contact with my swollen clit and I jackknife up, curled around his head as he devours my tender flesh. Huh, it seems I do have the muscles for that type of impressive movement.

He suckles me and I flop back onto the bed, writhing in pure pleasure as I ride his face with wild abandon, like a champion rodeo rider and her bucking bronco.

He pulls back, releasing my pussy lips with a soft suck, “Doll, I love hearing all the thoughts in your mind, but a bucking bronco?” He raises a brow and I groan, covering my face with a pillow.

He chuckles, so close to my core that I feel the vibrations through me. He blows gently before lapping me from back to front, my legs tightening around his beautiful face.

“That’s it, Mira, I want to feel you come on my tongue and my fingers.” He slips said fingers into his mouth, laving them with his tongue before releasing them with a pop.

His moistened thick fingers slide through my folds, slicking my cream from my empty core and spreading my lips wider for his greedy mouth. The sensation of him, everywhere, licking, sucking, pressing into me causes my body to twitch and twist in his strong hands. His fingers find a place deep within and my hips buck of their own accord.

“That’s right baby, ride my fingers, make yourself come, use me to feel good, Doll,” I’m bucking harder and faster, grinding and whimpering, whining, trying to find my peak. “Fuck me just like that, good girl.”

Tyson’s deep voice crooning that I’m a good girl sets me off, which is cliche as heck but I’m beyond caring as my body tightens around his fingers, bearing down and spasming with an orgasm so mind blowing I can feel tears in my eyes as a sob escapes me and stars burst behind my eyes, my body riding the pleasure into oblivion.

“Shhh, there she is. Hi, Doll,” Tyson’s gentle voice pulls me out of the void, his rough hands running down my sides, over my face, his lips gently pressing soft kisses onto my eyes, my cheeks, my lips. He’s nestled between my legs, chest to chest, face to face, his weight grounding me as only he can.

“Tyson.” I gaze up at him, my eyes heavy lidded with pleasure as I search his blue depths, “Tyson, I want to feel you, all of you. I - I’m clean, and I’m on the pill. I want to feel you, just you.”

“As you wish,” He angles his hips back, his thick cock nudging my clit, sending a shiver through me. “I’m clean too, got tested the day I met you.,” He twists his hips and I feel the head of him press against me, right where I want him.

I angle myself up, wanting him, needing him inside me.

“Careful, babe, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me by not getting in me, Tyson!” I whine in frustration and try once again, this time feeling him sink in an inch or so, both of us hissing.

“Fuck you feel so good, baby.” Tyson presses his forehead to mine, his blue eyes on mine as he gently rocks into me, slowly, slowly pressing in until he’s fully seated. “Fucking perfect.”