Dangerous Lies

by A P Foote

  Just when I’m about to explode he rolls, pinning me under him. Grabbing my hands, he pins them over my head, spreading my legs further with his thighs as he hones-in on his target. That target being his release, and that’s the Clyde I know.

  The skin above the base of his shaft rubs against my clit every time he thrusts into me, and it’s all I can take. I come, releasing my pleasure around him. He let’s go of my hands and seizes my hips, painfully grinding against me.

  “Oh, God,” he moans, shooting hot jets of semen deep inside me, our releases mixing together, filling the air with the smell of sex.

  Taking deep breaths, I’m able to steady my breathing; him being this way was what I needed. Slow, sensual. Why couldn’t he always have been this way? Why must he be a cold-hearted brute that throws a tantrum every time he doesn’t get his way?

  “I love you,” he grumbles, kissing my bottom lip.

  Did he just? Noooooo, why does he have to ruin this. I knew it. He knows I don’t say that lightly and, while I have love for him, that deep connection where full-hearted trust and devotion kind of love is earned and reciprocated? He has never been able to do.

  “Clyde, I— “

  “Shh, just listen to me. I know I’ve done a lot of horrible, unforgivable things to you. But I swear I’m willing to change and be the man you want me to be if you just give me a chance.” Shifting his weight to one side he tucks a hair behind my ear, his thumb lingering over my temple. I blow out a shaky breath; I want to believe him, I do, but I can’t trust him. He lies, cheats, treats me like shit.

  “Let me think about it, please.”

  His eyes flicker between mine, and he purses his lips together. “Okay, if that’s what you need.”

  “It is.”

  He nods, scrambling to his feet. Grabbing his pants, he dresses. “You want me to take you home? I can smell the booze on you.” He pauses, examining me closer. “You know you shouldn’t be drinking,”

  “Please, a ride home would be nice. And I’m fine, really. A drink every now and then wont set me back.” I search out my clothes dressing as fast as possible. I can’t believe I had sex with him. He’s shutting down, all the emotion he displayed, gone in the blink of an eye. Even when he mentioned the drinking there was nothing. I would tell him to fuck off, but I really want to sleep in my own bed.

  I finish dressing and slide on my boots, and then remember my keys that I need to set the alarm are on the bar top. “Hey, I’ll meet you outside.”

  “Okay.” Watching him walk away is pleasant in more ways than one. The fact I don’t have to look at him is one, and the other, that muscular tight ass.

  My bed calls to me, imploring me to hurry with lock up. Snatching the keys, I throw my bag over my shoulder and head toward the back. I know Clyde had a key to get in, but you can never be too careful.

  Dalton cleaned the kitchen up and it is immaculate. It smells new and fresh, with not a single crumb in sight from what I can tell from my quick walk through.

  Dammit! I’m gonna have to tell him about Clyde. I hope he isn’t pissed. But then again why do I have to tell him? We aren’t dating, I just met him.

  A loud crash grabs my attention. Three feet in front of me is the back-access door busted wide the fuck open. A man wearing all black from head to toe is standing in the entry, stalking me. I can’t see who he is, all I know is his snaggled smile is one I never want to see again.

  The large man grins, his fishbone smile haggard and daunting. Jumping to my left I struggle with a box mounted to the wall that’s holding my gun.

  The big man lunges for me at the same time the cover unlatches, and he wraps his gloved hands around my waist. He throws me to the ground, slamming his foot on my stomach. I cry out in pain when he shifts his weight to the leg pinning me down. I viciously claw at his ankle, punch his calf, but he doesn’t fucking budge. Grunting, he drops to his knees, his entire weight crushing against my smaller frame.

  I can’t breathe, he has at least an easy hundred and sixty pounds on me. His monstrosity of hands curl around my throat cutting off what little oxygen I have left from my lungs already being deflated, screaming for air. My vision starts to swim, fading in and out as I gasp and gasp for air.

  This is it. This is how I’m gonna die.

  His maniacal laugh instills more fear into me than I’m already experiencing. I fight and fight, clawing and punching him in the face which only seems to piss him off more. Something in my throat pops when he bares down harder. My mouth fills with blood faster than I can dump it with my tongue, choking me when I try to breathe.

  “Kat!” Clyde’s voice is the last thing I remember when the big man hell-bent on killing me slams my head into the ground and I lose consciousness.

  Cass

  “Dalton, get up!” I bang on my brother’s bedroom door; fucker sleeps like a rock.

  “What? I’m up, I’m up.” The door opens into the dark room, and Dalton is standing there in only his boxers, hair disheveled and watery, red eyes. Yeah, he was sleeping hard.

  “We have to go, get dressed,” I say, slipping my own shirt over my head.

  “Why? It’s only,” he turns looking at the clock on his nightstand, “six am. I’ve only been asleep for two hours, man.”

  He’s always complaining. I roll my eyes. “Kat was attacked; we need to get over to the hospital.” Retreating into the room next to his I grab my socks and shoes, sitting on my bed to put them on.

  “Shit, who attacked her? Is she okay? What happened?”

  Jesus Christ at the questions, can he ever do anything in silence?

  “Fuck man, I don’t know just, shut up and hurry.” I grab my keys, bolting from the room and front door snatching my side arm off the end table by the door.

  Dalton stumbles out the door seconds later, throwing his boots on while hobbling down the steps. We hop into my truck, peeling out of the driveway, and take off for Bay Lake Memorial.

  “What’s going on?”

  I blow out the breath I’ve been holding. “Clyde called me, said he was waiting for her outside to take her home—”

  “Why was Clyde there?” he interrupts.

  I shrug. “Does it matter? Anyway, he said she took a long time, then he heard a crash. He went in to see what the issue was and found a guy on top of her with his hands around her throat.”

  “Are you fucking serious? I told you I wanted to stay with her. If I would have been there, this would have never happened!”

  What the hell does he think he would have done? He’s still on fucking parole, he technically isn’t supposed to even be in this shit hole town. The only reason he is, is because of me.

  The passing lights glow against his face in pulses as we head toward the hospital. “Dalton,” I say with another quick glance at him, “you’d be in the jail cell Clyde’s sitting in right now.”

  I focus back on the road, but I can feel my brother’s eyes on me. “Why’s he in jail?”

  I swallow the lump lodged in my throat. “He nearly beat the guy to death.”

  “Pfft, he should have killed him.”

  Flipping my left turn signal on I look back to him. “And what would that accomplish? As it is, he can’t talk. Until he can communicate, we don’t know why he was there in the first place or why he targeted Kat.”

  The last car passes allowing me to turn into the hospital’s parking lot. It’s fairly empty except for a few cars and the line of Harley’s in the first row. I park next to the white corolla. “Lovely.”

  “Yeah,” Dalton huffs, getting out of the truck first. I hop out as well, sticking close to my brother. The last thing we need is him getting his ass beat by a club called the Berserkers.

  It’s a pretty nice hospital; lights shining from the ground illuminate the outside allowing for the strategically placed foliage to be revealed. Double glass sliding doors with the slogan ‘We Care’ stained across them, open and close as the bikers come and go for a smoke break.

  Dalton t
riggers the doors first when he steps on the rubber welcome mat. A slew of eyes greet us when we walk through prompting my already rapid heart to beat faster.

  I’m not scared, just… a little nervous. This is my first assignment and these guys can smell a Fed from a mile away. Being around one or two at time is fine, but when they’re all together? They’re like a pack of wild dogs.

  “What are you doing here?” A man with a patch reading ‘Enforcer’ adorned on the top of his cut approaches me.

  “Clyde called me. Told me to come.”

  The bald man laughs looking over his shoulder at the rest of the members. “You hear that? Clyde called the pretty boy to come down here.”

  I don’t have time for this, I need to see Kat and this… man and his goons aren’t going to let me, no matter what the nurse says.

  “Aye, he did,” another man sitting in the far corner confirms, rising to his feet. “Back off, Cabe.”

  The tall, muscular man watches Cabe walk back to his spot among the clan. His cut says Vice President. This must be Nix; he’s colorful himself. Served in the Army for ten years, dishonorably discharged for a friendly fire incident that he should honestly have never been blamed for.

  Nix sucks his teeth, watching me intently. “Pres must trust you, for him to call you to look after his gal.”

  “Humph, I wouldn’t say she’s his,” Dalton chimes in, coming to stand next to me.

  Don’t fall for it, dude.

  “What ya think he was doin’ there, lass? Claiming what’s his.”

  “I’m not a lass and, like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

  God, I really want to shoot him.

  “Where is she?” My eyes flicker to the doors that say Employees Only.

  Nix bites down on the toothpick in his mouth, flashing me his perfect straight teeth, light reflecting off the gold tooth he’s got in there. “Room five O seven. He didn’t say anything about this one though.”

  He sizes Dalton up and looks back to me. “Yeah, you don’t want him down here, trust me.”

  My brother huffs giving me his back.

  “Yeah, go,” Nix gives in, waving us off with his hand.

  My hand comes down on Dalton’s shoulder, giving him the push he needs to walk, triggering the automatic wooden doors open for us, and we waste little time finding room five O seven. Nix’s Irish accent is decent and if he wasn’t a criminal, I might actually like him.

  The elevator seems like it’s taking forever, second floor, third floor. Thank god it’s not an emergency. Dalton’s festering over here, I can practically taste the anger and anticipation rolling from him and being his twin, I am a little more in tune to his emotions, but we aren’t the same person. I control me and my own emotions, I don’t let what’s going on in his mind affect my actions. I’m worried, though. I don’t know what we’re going to find when we see her. Is she beaten? Bruised? How is she emotionally? My palms are sweaty and that hasn’t happened since middle school. My heart is pounding hard, and my temples are starting to throb.

  Ding! Fucking finally, we reach the fifth floor, watching the doors whoosh open faster than the damn thing moves. Taking our exit, we begin searching the signs that will direct us to Kat.

  “This way.” Dalton bumps my shoulder and points to the left. Rounding the corner, her room is only three doors down.

  I rasp lightly on the door, but she doesn’t answer so we let ourselves in to the room. It’s a decent size, she has her own space, and everything is clean. The color is a little bland with the walls being pure white, but what was I expecting? Colorful wallpaper?

  Kat

  There’s light tapping on the door. I try to answer but my throat burns every time I try.

  Dalton and Cass walk in. What are they doing here and how did they know I was here? I breathe a sigh of relief. It feels kind of good knowing that Cass really does care, or he wouldn’t be here.

  “What did they do to you?” Dalton coos coming to sit next to me on the bed. I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, but the doc said I had some bruising around my neck, a lump on the back of my head, bruised ribs, and a split lip. I actually don’t remember the guy hitting me though, which is probably a good thing.

  Dalton’s eyes are red and glossed over; he must not have had enough time to wake up before they rushed out here.

  Reaching up I run my hand across my throat and open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

  Cass moves opposite of his brother, taking my hand away from my throat. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk.”

  I give him a small teary-eyed smile as I reach for both of them, running a hand over their forearms. They tense under my touch but quickly relax.

  The joy these two bring me is brief. Clyde. The cops said he intercepted the man attacking me. He saved my life and was still arrested. They’ve had a hard on for him for a while so it shouldn’t be a shocker, but it still fucking stings. I’m honestly shocked that he called Cass. Who else would it have been? It had to have been Clyde.

  “Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll see what I can do,” Cass promises. Seconds later his face morphs into regret like he just said something he shouldn’t.

  My mind turns over and over trying to think about what the hell Cass could possibly do. This is Bay Lake, the cops here are in it for any kind of acknowledgment. Take down the big bad biker and the shits bow at your fucking feet.

  Dalton adjusts himself, lining his body with mine, and leans back next to me, turning his head to reveal that sheepish smile. “We’ll stay as long as you need us.”

  I mouth a thank you to him and rest my head back, next to his. Just as I get comfortable a man in blue scrubs enters the room, grabbing Cass’s attention immediately.

  “Well, Miss Covens, there isn’t any permanent damage to your larynx. You will have some discomfort for a couple weeks but after a few days it should be easier to speak.” Whew, that’s a relief. I blow out the breath I’ve been holding. I guess it just feels worse than it is. “Now, I’m going to prescribe you some pain medication and anti-inflammatory. We do, however, want to keep you for a while longer because of your concussion.” The doctor smiles looking between Dalton and Cass before scribbling on his note pad. He rips the paper off handing it to Cass. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  I shake my head hoping he leaves the room; the tension in the air is palpable for some odd reason. As if he’s read my mind, the Doc turns, exiting the small space, and closes the door behind him.

  Dalton’s soft snores filter through the room, snagging my attention. How the hell is he asleep already? Cass and I glare at him at the same time. Little shit is sleeping like a baby.

  “He’s out.”

  You think? I gently tilt my head back to assess Cass, raising a brow at him. I flinch at the burn shooting through my throat and the pinching around the bruised areas.

  “Just relax, I need to go talk to that Nix guy,” that crazy ass tells me. My eyes nearly bug out of my head. What the hell could he possibly have to say to Nix? I shake my head, reaching for his arm. He chuckles and pries my fingers off his tattooed skin where I leave it marred from nails gripping him. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

  Ha, easier said than done.

  He slides off my hospital bed giving me a reassuring smile. I watch him walk away, his muscles flexing under his white V-neck and that perfectly shaped ass under his designer pants. Why must they torture me? Even in my worst condition I’m a sucker for eye candy.

  Dalton’s snores bring my thoughts to him. How can someone who looks like such a badass be the goofiest, sweetest, teddy bear?

  Shifting weight to my side, I snuggle with the hulk of the man next to me. Thank god his snoring stops when I do, or he’d be turned into a rug.

  Hopefully I can get some sleep, the doctors said it’s fine, the monitor hooked up to me will alert them to any problems.

  Cass

  Walking back down the hall toward the waiting room full of bikers, my stomach does a flip. What
am I going to say to Nix? Hey man don’t worry, I’ll have Clyde out in jiffy. That’s not going to fly, he’ll have me tagged immediately.

  I step into the waiting room to find that everyone has cleared out, everyone but Nix. He stands when he spots me, tossing the toothpick he’s been chewing on into the trash.

  We meet in the middle of the room. “Aye boy, you gonna tell your buddies to let my man go?”

  “Buddies?” I question, tilting my head in a confused manner.

  “Don’t play dumb, I know you’re a fed.” Nix sizes me up and down, his face changing colors from his usual pale to an angry cherry red. “Agent Casey Brooks.”