JUSTICE (YOUNG OUTLAWS MC Book 2)

by T L Wainwright

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” I growl. “I should have fucking known. The first time I saw you walking into the club house, I knew you were nothing but fucking trouble.”

  “You noticed me?” A half smile plays on her lips, her eyes never leaving my face. A slight tilt of her leg, bending at the knee, she brings it slightly over and in front of the other, striking a pose. Her fingers play with the wispy ends of her hair at the nape of her neck as she plumps her lips into a pout. “So, do you like what you see?”

  Cocky little shit.

  This only substantiates my prior thoughts. She is a mischievous imp and a distinct danger to my sanity and restraint.

  I walk back to the car, this time I open the driver’s door and with a flick of my head, I motion for her to get in the driver’s seat.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Just get in the fucking car.”

  “Jeez, and I thought it was your brother who was the one with the temper,” she gripes, but she does as I ask, and sits sideways onto the seat. I’m mesmerized by the silky flesh of her long legs as she slips off her heels, bringing up her bare feet and swivels her hips until her feet are in the car. The black shorts she’s wearing are so short and tight that they’re hugging her pussy, leaving little to the imagination. Inadvertently I lick my lips, my mind already wondering how sweet her hot cunt would taste, how easy it would be to slip a finger under the fabric and tease her clit. I find it impossible to evert my gaze from the tempting sight.

  Jesus H Christ. This girl.

  “Hello-o,” she sings. “Are you coming or what?” She adds before her eyes drop down to my crotch, which isn’t difficult with her sitting and me still stood holding onto the door frame. She sniggers then meets my eyes with a salacious grin.

  If my hard cock is anything to go by, then it’s quite possible that I’m going to end up with an embarrassing stain on my pants. I need to put some distance between us, and the sooner the better.

  “What’s up Biker Dude is it too much of a dent in your ego for the woman to take control…” her hesitation has me sucking in a deep breath. “and do the driving?”

  Jesus H Christ. Is she the queen of the double-entendre or is she just a bitch of a tease? Whichever, she’s not only poking the temper monster in me, she’s jabbing at the sexual one too and neither have been let fully off the leash in a long time.

  I should pull away now. Send her on her way and hope that she takes her ass straight on home. But I don’t trust this impetuous, fervid chick to do as she’s told.

  Taking a long and deep calming breath, I let it out slowly before I walk back around the car and get in.

  “Buckle up, Biker Dude, and let me take you for a ride.” As she turns the key, the engine comes to life and moves smoothly off. Not a judder, not a hint of a miss calculation on the clutch biting point.

  Bite me!

  “Didn’t I warn you never to put the words biker and dude in the same sentence?”

  “Why? What you gonna do, big boy?” she laughs out loud, as she puts her foot down hard on the gas. Dirt kicks up from the back wheels as they try and gain more traction.

  “You’re a crazy bitch, aren’t ya, Pixie?” I find myself laughing as I pull on the belt, clicking it into place.

  “Pixie? Wow, I didn’t realise we were at that point in our relationship where we have pet names for each other. How sweet.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Now, let me see, what name should I have for you?”

  “This is ridiculous…” I splutter.

  “Well you’re obviously not keen on Biker Dude, so let me see,” she taps her finger on her plump bottom lip. “What about Big Boy… no that’s too cliché.” As she turns her head to look at me, the car swerves abruptly.

  “Two hands on the fucking wheel,” I shout at her, as I grab the wheel to correct her over-steering, only to have her slap the back of it dismissively, sending it away.

  “Bear. Nope, that’s too… cute and let’s face it, you’re about as cute as a naked mole rat.”

  “How delightful. Now you’re comparing me to a rat?”

  “Only the lack of cuteness of a rat, but come to think of it, being naked would look good on you.” Tilting her head my way, she winks. A long, drawn out, exaggerated wink. It fucking disarms me, and I find myself quickly looking out of my side window and dropping my head so my hair falls over the side of my face, as I try to hide the fucking heat that’s working its way up my damn face.

  I’m fucking blushing.

  We get to the end of the dirt track and she takes a left turn onto the main road. It’s dark as this stretch of road has little to no road lighting. Only the white lines in the centre of the road lit by the headlights mark our way.

  “Fluffy, would work due to the fact that you’ve got all this,” she wiggles her index finger, pointing at her chest area, “uni-beard thing going on. It’s quite something isn’t it. It’s like a mini jungle just there, right between your man boobs.”

  “I haven’t got tits; this is all rock-hard muscle.” I flex them. They jump. What the hell, I need to get my point across.

  “Wow, yeah.” She coughs and shifts in her seat. It’s the first sign I’ve had that I’m not the only one affected by our close proximity. Rightly or wrongly, I relish in this newfound knowledge.

  “I’m guessing it’s real and not a chest weave or something ridiculous like that.” She reaches over, her fingers running through the thick hair that covers most of my pecs, only my nipples are visible. For a few seconds I let her, because it feels good, but then I take hold of her wrist and put her hand back on the wheel.

  “Mmm soft, not at all what I expected for that hairy beast patch.” She lifts then slams both the palms of her hands back onto the steering wheel. “That’s it. “Beast. I’ll call you Beast.”

  “Hell no.”

  “You don’t like it? Personally, I think it fits you perfectly.”

  “It’s irrelevant, because there ain’t going to be any stupid fucking pet names.”

  “Why not? Isn’t that what friends do?”

  “We are not fucking friends.” She jumps on the brakes and I have to put my hand forward to brace myself against the dashboard. “What the fuck!” Looking out of the window I see no sign of any houses.

  “Get out.” She’s looking straight forward, her voice calm but her words clear and precise and I’m finding it difficult to read her. Is she pissed at me for putting her straight?

  “Do I really look like friend material, especially with a female, a young female at that? Hell, the fuck, no. The buddies I have wear cuts, drink Jack and the only thing that means anything to them has two wheels not two legs.”

  This chick is driving me nuts, getting right on my tits with her crazy ass attitude and quick action mouth. But damn it, my cock is pulsing in my pants to every sweet and sassy word that slips between those plump red lips.

  “I’m here for one thing only Sweet Cheeks…”

  “Stop calling me Sweet Cheeks,” she interrupts. “It’s so fucking patronising.”

  “Is to get you the fuck off club property, and make sure you don’t come back. Do you get me?”

  Leaning across me, which is not so easy, the side of her face is so close to my chest that her mermaid green hair brushes against my beard. An aroma of vanilla, macadamia nuts and a hint of bubble gum hits my nostrils. It’s fresh, sweet and innocent, but also deliciously tempting and although her movement only lasts for a few moments, I find myself leaning in a little further to inhale more of her mouth-watering scent.

  It’s not until she moves back and away from me that I notice that the reason for invading my space was to release the handle and push open the car door.

  “I said get out of my car,” she repeats her previous demand. I look around, this ain’t no residential area.

  “When I said I would make sure you got home, I meant it.” I slam the door shut again. “Now just keep on driving until we
get to where you live.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m quite capable of finding my way home. Now if you want to get out and call one of your ‘biker dudes’ to come get you, I’ll be fine from here.”

  “You could be a homing pigeon with top of the range satellite navigation strapped to your back for all I care, Sweet Cheeks,” I emphasize on the sweet cheeks. “But I ain’t going nowhere until I see you walk through your front door.”

  “Please, just get out here. I swear I’ll go straight home.”

  I’m on the verge of losing my shit with her, because Christ knows why but my ability to keep my shit in check is fucked, but then I pick up on the slight quiver in her voice. Her hands that are still holding the steering wheel are shaking. Until now I’ve only seen a confident and strong-minded Dana, but now I see cracks in her armour and a fear that I’m pretty damn sure is not because of me.

  “Hey,” I say softly as I put one of my huge hands over her tiny, trembling ones. “What’s going on? What’s got you all panicky? I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I want to see that you’re safe.”

  “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Do you know that 78% of people who say that they’re fine, are usually not. What they are really trying to say is “I’m not fine at all. I need help.”

  “Sure, Sigmund Freud,” she sniggers, but I can still hear the quiver in her voice. Even from the side I can see that her beautiful jade green eyes have become glassy, a thin line of moisture collecting and making her lower lashes wet.

  “I might look and sound like some dumb shit Dana, but I’m far from it. So, I’ll ask you again. What’s got you so scared and you can try bullshit me as much as you want, but I ain’t getting out of this car until you start talking.”

  She drops her head forward until her forehead meets her hands that are still resting on the wheel. Silence fills the interior of the car and I debate with myself whether I should get out, go home and leave her to wallow. But something is troubling me, a gut feeling that everything is not what it seems with this beautiful young woman. So, I decide to wait it out.

  “It’s my dad,” she mutters with her head still tilted downwards. “If he sees you… “

  “What will he do, ground you for a couple of weeks? Maybe that will teach you a lesson, not to come snooping around where you’re likely to get into the kind of trouble you won’t be able to handle.” Although, the woman I saw before could have taken on any of those Outlaw assholes, but the one I’m seeing now? I’m not so sure.

  She flings her head back and laughs manically, but the wet tears on her cheeks tells me that is far from funny.

  “That kind of punishment I can take…” her voice trails off, her damp eyes quickly flicking to my face then back, realising she’s said too much. She swipes the wetness from her face with the back of her hand.

  “Does he fucking hit you?” I snarl, the thought of her being afraid is bad enough, the thought of a man, father or not, laying a hand on her makes me feel sick to the gut. I’ve been at the receiving end of this kind of shit. I know what it’s like to both love and hate a parent because of the way that they treat you. “Does he?” I push.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” When I see her straighten her back, sitting upright in her seat, I can tell that the shutters have come down and I’m not going to get anything else out of her.

  “Look, my house is a quarter mile down here. He thinks I was stopping over at Leah’s house. I’ll tell him Leah wasn’t feeling too good, so I decided to come home, but if he sees me with anyone, my cover will be blown. Please, don’t make this more difficult for me.”

  The story is plausible but if I can see its bullshit, I’m not convinced that her father won’t see right through it too.

  “Give me your phone.”

  “What for?” she asks, but fishes it from inside her top giving me another quick glimpse of the dome of her tits, and hands it over.

  The heat from it being next to her skin has my fingers tingling. When the face recognition comes up, I turn it towards her. It opens and I punch my number into her contact list, set it to ring until I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, then hand it back.

  “If shit goes down you ring me, you hear me? Or text me your address and I’ll come get you.”

  “You’d do that for me, after all the trouble I’ve put you through tonight?”

  “One thing I can’t abide, and that’s beating on chicks, so yeah, I would. Now get yourself home.”

  Pushing open the door with difficulty, I squeeze myself out of the car and close the door behind me. I hear the sound of the side window winding down.

  “Thank you,” she says, leaning over the center console.

  “Just call me if you need anything. You’ll find me under Beast.” Then I quickly step back from the car, turning my back to her before I bring my phone to my ear to call one of the Young Outlaws to come get me. I hear the car pull away, but it’s not long before I’m walking in the direction that it’s moved, because I’ll be damned if I don’t fulfil my obligation to ensure that home is exactly where she’s headed.

  And that was my first encounter with Dana.

  Chapter 6

  Present

  Mammoth

  I must have fallen into a deep sleep, because the next thing I know I wake to find my face wet. The dream I was having seconds ago, had me back in the shower, but this time I was not on my own.

  When I cock open my left eye, I find Cannon sitting in my old recliner with a gun pointing in my direction. As he closes one of his eyes, he takes a moment to pinpoint his aim before his index finger squeezes the trigger. Water sprays across my face, forcing me to close my eye again and hold up a hand to shield me from the wet assault.

  “What the fuck, brother,” I growl at him for the rude awakening.

  “Time to get up and face the music, asshole.” He gives another pull on the trigger, his way of telling me I can no longer avoid the inevitable.

  “Give me a fucking minute, will yea?”

  “You’ve had five fucking hours. Now I wouldn’t usually give you that much breathing space, but under the circumstance I took pity on you, you big assed lump of shit and granted you some leeway, but now you need to tell me what all this fucking bullshit is about.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just let me take a piss first, will you?”

  “Yeah. You might want to take that towel off your head while you’re at it, because you look like a right pussy.”

  “Fuck you.” Pulling it off my head I throw it at him as I make my way into the bathroom.

  “Aww, what’s up Princess Wes, did I hurt your delicate feelings?”

  I slam the bathroom door shut behind me, knowing that it will send a clear message to Cannon that he’s fucking pushing his luck, because normally I wouldn’t care if he saw me taking a piss or a shit come to think of it. After all we are brothers.

  I take a piss then wash my hands, while checking out the state of my face. I run the tip of my finger over the long scar that runs down my face. What was once a red angry mark is now a much lesser obtrusive silver line but still noticeable. My beard is thick at the moment and overdue a tidy up, so where the scar finishes is not visible, but I know exactly where it ends. I’m not ashamed of my looks by any means but being the size that I am, which in itself makes me look like a badass motherfucker, the flaw seems to add to it. Which in most club scenarios is great, especially if you’re needing to scare the shit out of some scumbag who’s encroaching on club business. But it also brings with it a label that I can’t seem to shake off in situations where looking like a violent thug doesn’t cut it. Like in court in front a Jury.

  “Hey, asshole,” Cannon shouts from the other room. “Stop stalling and get the fuck out here.”

  “Just a goddamn minute,” I holler back. Rubbing my hand down my face in exasperation. I take a deep breath before opening the door. A feeling of nausea hits me, knowing that I’m going to have to look my brother in the eye and tell him
the truth. He’s one of the few people whose opinion of me actually matters and to see the disappointment in his face is going to kill me.

  Cannon is still sat in the seat, but the bright yellow and green nerf gun is resting on the floor at the side of him. He watches me as I walk towards the bed and sit on the edge. While his ass is still firmly on the chair, he rocks and shuffles the legs until he’s about a foot and a half directly in front of me. I look him in the eye. His expression is a mix of so many things, but I see anger and concern and it’s apparent that the latter is fiercely focused on me.

  “So, what’s going on, brother?”

  “What did Rossi tell you?”

  “Other than the charges, and that Dana Donovan, is involved, absolutely fuck all. What’s the deal, man?”

  “I don’t know where to start.” I try to read his facial expressions further, but I struggle to keep the connection. I drop my head down and focus on the floor.

  “Try the fucking beginning?”

  “It’s all such a fucking mess. I never thought…”

  “Mammoth, I need to know exactly what happened, otherwise how the hell am I supposed to help you.”

  Everything is clear in my head, but I can’t seem to process them into words, at least not so that they make any sense. How can I explain this without me looking like a total sleazebag? Silence falls between us, but Cannon being Cannon, won’t wait forever.

  “Did you kidnap the girl?” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

  “Fuck no,” I growl at him. “Not in the true sense anyway.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he questions. “Either you did, or you didn’t.”

  “What I mean is that I didn’t use any force. She came willingly.” Even though I know the words that I say are true, they still leave a nasty taste in my mouth.

  Cannon grunts and swings his arms out with annoyance. “You’re confusing the shit out of me. Why the hell would she go anywhere with you, and how the hell do you know her anyway?”