“Is that what you want to do here? I am sure mum and the other ladies wouldn’t mind you putting up flyers in their shops,” Gabriel offered.
“Maybe, I… no I don’t… I suppose I could,” I stuttered. I actually did not want to walk dogs forever, I enjoyed being outside and I did love animals of any kind, but there was something I really loved doing but never had the gumption to tell anyone.
Gabriel groaned in frustration, making me giggle. His tolerance for my rambling was quite sweet really, there were times he nipped it in the bud before I could get really worked up and lost in it. I liked those times, his tactics to shut me up were with hot kisses and super sex. Then there were times like these when he simply wanted me to get out with it.
Which was why I found myself tossed over onto his heavily muscled chest, my pussy level with his stiffening dick. Such good tactics.
“What. Do. You. Want. To. Do,” he enunciated each word with a thrust of his hips, each thrust his dick hit in between my folds, making talking sensibly quite difficult.
“Drawing! I love to draw,” I cried out loudly, wantonly rocking my pussy over the length of his shaft. Without looking at it I knew my juices were leaving a trail on his dick, if I was just to lift my hips just a bit—
“Drawing, really? That is great baby, the Souls have a tattoo shop down the end of the main street. Doc runs it mostly on his own, and I know he needs someone to help with the front desk but I am sure he would be very interested to see some of your sketches,” Gabriel said excitedly, bringing the motions of my hips and the direction my mind had been heading to a standstill.
“Huh, what? They do? He would?” Oh my god! This sexy hot man and his wonderful family never ceased to amaze me with their endless kindness and support. Drawing for a living with a little reception work thrown in sounded like a step in the right direction of getting myself a career.
I sat astride Gabriel’s hips with what I was positive was dumbstruck look covering my face.
Gabriel grinned up at me, his grey eyes dancing with mischief.
Damn smarty pants.
“Yep, we will talk to him tomorrow. Now lift those hips for real baby and slide down on my fat dick and fuck your man.”
Of course, I did just that, and for that day, we had sex for the fourth time. I had to admit I walked a little bowlegged to the tattoo shop the next day, and going on Gabriel’s bike had been out of the question. So, we strolled to see Doc, well I hobbled and Gabriel strutted, but I digress. Doc, whom I had not met in the month or so I had been at the compound in total, was a big man with tattoos everywhere. His hands and fingers, his neck, and what I could see of his arms were covered, his long-sleeved black tee hid his torso from me but I bet that was full of ink too. Even the man’s face had tattoos adorning it. He was incredibly hot; dark hair, a medium length beard which was clean and tidy. His dark chocolate eyes had been guarded the entire time the impromptu interview took place, but in the end, he accepted that I had a definite talent. He put me through a rigorous drawing exam, things like old-school swallow birds, love hearts, a playing card, and several other typical tattoo illustrations. I passed, and now I was the newest employee of Souls and Soldiers Tattoos, well I was the only employee other than Doc. But the main thing was I had something that could turn into much more– sustainable way of making a living and, most importantly, I felt needed, not useless. I had the bank account from the accident, it was still growing and earning interest, but I hated living off it, I hated what it represented and how I came about having it in the first place.
“Dev!” Gabriel’s shout and the sound of his fingers clicking in front of my face brought me out of yet another mind warp. God damn I was getting worse.
“Huh?”
“Baby, your phone has rung out three times already.” He laughed, pointing at my phone that started to ring again. This time the display read Mitchell Calling.
Ah, no thank you very much.
Tapping on the decline option, I threw my phone into my handbag. Childish? Most likely. Self-preservation? Absolutely.
“You know you are going to have to talk to them eventually, Dev,” Gabriel said softly, his hands coming over the table top to take mine. I stared at his large hands, they were rough but not cracked or dirty. His fingers long and strong, used to doing things with guns, the top of his hands tanned from the endless hours and hours he’s spent in the desert. To be honest I had no idea what Gabriel did in the desert, or any other location he found himself sent to, that made his hands perfectly rough and capable. He never told me anything, not a single thing actually. I knew he was skilled with a wrench, he could fix a leaking pipe and any other handyman job around the compound. I spent three glorious hours last week watching him help Deck and some of the guys who worked for Deck build a new shed on the compound’s back property.
Shirtless.
Totally bare from the waist up.
Sweat gleamed on his chest, his muscles rippled whenever he lifted a beam, or a sheet of roofing steal. My mouth watered at the memory, much like it did at the time.
“Devon! Earth to Devon!”
I knew Gabriel thought I should talk to dad and the boys, and deep down I wanted to as well. Dad more than Mitchell admittedly, but the conversation was coming, no matter how much I was putting it off.
“Was it the distinguished grey-haired hot firefighter, or the hot sexy faux hawked mammoth?” I asked Gabriel out of the blue, his eyes went from narrowed and concerned to wide and shocked in two seconds flat.
“Huh?”
Smiling cheekily at him, I gathered my bag, stood up and slung the strap over my shoulder.
“Stella’s cousin. Which hunk is her cousin?” I asked again, then took advantage of his stunned silence to get a head start on him. Which of course I did, I was out of the door and skipping down the street while Gabriel had to take time to pay for our lunch. His growls of displeasure making my smile huge.
Sometimes my mind and mouth rambling had its advantages, I thought smugly, slowing down my pace when I heard the tingling of a bell from behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I giggled when I saw Gabriel coming out of the door at a fast clip. His dangerous expression focused solely on me, but his sublime lips were set in a grin that lit up my world.
Love. I was in love.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
GABRIEL
“Devon still at work?” my dad asked, coming up with a glass of cold frothy beer for himself and a can of soft drink for me.
“Yep, she should be finished soon. I will just get this door hinged and then take off to get her,” I told him, taking the can from him and pulling the tab.
“She is fitting in well there. Doc is very impressed with her sketches, said she has given him more time to tattoo.”
Nodding my head, I took a swig of the fizzy brew. I didn’t really like the taste of beer, the smell alone was fucking disgusting, if I did partake in a beverage or two, I preferred a Jack Daniels or a Tequila.
“You expecting some action Gabe?” dad asked looking pointedly at my can.
“Could be, had a call from the major about some unrest happening in the east. The frogmen have been deployed, so hopefully we won’t be needed,” I said and that was all I said. Dad knew when the Navy SEALS went in things were bad. If my team got pulled into it, then it was really fucking bad.
“Fair enough, your mum wants to do a—” the rest of what dad had to say was cut off by a commotion at the front gate. Loud voices shouting and cursing, one booming voice in particular demanding to be let in.
“What in the fuck!” I growled, throwing my can and quickly followed the direction in which my father was stalking.
The closer to the carpark we got, the louder the cursing and yelling became. I patted the side of my pants to check that my knife was in its usual place. Australian law didn’t allow me to carry my sidearm. Army or not, when I was out of my uniform and on civilian ground I had to adhere to the law.
Passing by the club’s cars, I hurrie
d to the front gate and the crowd of Souls that had formed a barrier from whoever had the balls to demand entry to the compound. But it was what I heard next that had my hackles up.
“Where is my fucking sister! You better get this leather-clad criminal prick out of my way and produce my sister.” Some idiot with a death wish shouted angrily.
No, he fucking did not.
Breaking into a sprint, I ate up the rest of the distance to the gate, coming to a skidding halt in between Deck and Grill. My team was there standing shoulder to shoulder with the original members of Five, forever loyal.
Seeing the wanker with the mouth, I surmised by the smoke hanging from his smirking lips I was finally face to face with arsehole Kyle.
Well ain’t this my lucky day.
Cracking my knuckles, I stepped forward until I was standing an arm’s length from Devon’s brother. I could see why he scared her and worried Shiloh enough to bring Devon back to the compound with her. Other than I loved having her with me, in our bed, sharing days and nights together, and aside from the fact that I was madly in love with her living without her now was completely out of the question. My every waking thought was of her; even when she was just in the kitchen getting something to eat or using the bathroom, I felt like a piece of me was missing. I loved the way she slept with her face nestled into my neck, her hand on my chest, her soft breath on my skin. Her touched soothed me, how the hell I was going to cope without it wasn’t something I wanted to think about right now.
What I did want was this idiot off Souls’ property, before Devon came home. She had a safe place here with my family, the support and love she missed out on for too many years.
Her well-being was my top priority, and I wasn’t about to let Kyle or any other man in the Mercy family take her back to where she didn’t matter.
“You must be Kyle, Devon described that fucked-up smirk in great detail. She also told me that you scared her with that look. I want to know why,” I snarled menacingly. He wasn’t a big guy, tall yes, but his build was nothing short of pathetic. Probably sat on his arse all day doing nothing while collecting money from his old man and sponging off Devon. There was no doubt it wasn’t going to be a fair fight, and probably not all that challenging for me, but the satisfaction I will get just from knocking that smirk off his face would ease the disappointment.
“And who the fuck are you? The cunt that thinks he can take the money that is coming to me for putting my life on hold just because she had cancer? If you think that bitch—”
Lifting my right hand, I ploughed it right into his nose, relishing the satisfying crunch under my fist as it connected with his face. Kyle bent at the waist, his face in his hands holding his bloody nose and screaming like a little girl.
“Number one you don’t talk about Devon like that again,” I yelled.
I sensed the men behind me come closer, taking my eyes off Kyle to see why, I noticed a large Ford F100 pull up beside the small sedan I assumed was Kyle’s car. It was a top of the line Lexus and I couldn’t help wonder if Devon had bought it for him to drive her around. Since being at the compound, she had been driving a lot more; in fact, she surprised me how well she drove. I wouldn’t call her a nervous driver, more like a very careful one, granted she didn’t like getting close to trucks, but that was hardly surprising and I would never blame her for being overly cautious.
To me it meant I wouldn’t worry about her when I was away, well I would still worry about her, every second, but at least I knew she could get herself to and from work without having a meltdown.
“Kyle!”
The shout came from an older man jumping from the large ute. He looked older than my dad; his hair was grey, and his frame was pretty good for a man at least in his late sixties.
“Jesus who the Christ is this now?” Bastian murmured, pointing at a cherry red BMW pulling up alongside the Lexus. I narrowed my eyes at the man that jumped out, business suit and a ‘too good to spit on you’ attitude oozed off him.
Must be Mitchell, I decided.
“Devon’s father and two of the brothers,” I grunted back to Bastian, who just grunted back at me. He was less than impressed with the show of money, as I was.
The sound of another vehicle approached, this time it was a high-powered motorcycle, just as expensive looking as the three parked cars blocking the gate of the compound. The rider dressed rather stupidly in a full racing leather suit, a replica of a famous Australian GP rider back in the day.
I knew without a doubt that Devon was the one to have bought all the pricy toys with the money she’d received from the trucking company owner. It pissed me off to no end the reason they were here tossing their dicks around was their fear Devon leaving home also meant she was going to take her money with her.
“Fucking Christ, think they reckon we are impressed with their showy cars and clothes?” dad muttered disgustedly.
“Maybe I should go get my Shelby GT out,” Creed suggested smirking, but clearly, he was not impressed by the show.
“Yeah, then get a ruler so they can measure how big their dicks are?” Mannix laughed.
The Souls owned a lot of businesses in our town, and made a fuck tonne of money no doubt. They also worked goddamned hard for that money, all the men had a toy or two and the women and the kids benefited too.
What we weren’t, was flashy. Our parents insisted on humility, to respect our possessions and earn them. We all grew up with part-time jobs; nothing simply got handed to us. I worked weekends and after school at Deck’s construction company for years where I saved my own money to buy my first Harley. Looking at who had to be Andrew and his Ducati that was covered in scratches and dents, he obviously didn’t care about the machine or give a shit that his sister forked out money to him.
“Son how do you want to handle this?” my dad asked, his proud shoulders and impressive chest puffed out more than usual. Dad was a big man, his size very noticeable but he rarely used it in a display like this; his brothers, and my team against Devon’s family.
“We don’t need any trouble,” I said after a minute of thinking. “Better call Jason and let him know the situation, make sure he knows all surveillance is on and recording. In case it’s needed,” I told him, then broke ranks and walked over to Devon’s father, ignoring Kyle, Mitchell and Andrew.
“Mr Mercy, welcome to the Wounded Souls’ compound,” I said rather formally, holding my hand out for Devon’s dad to shake.
He eyed my hand then almost grudgingly took it in a limp shake. His hands were rough and strong from his work on oil rigs, so the limpness must have something to do with who he thought I was.
Well ain’t he in for a surprise.
“Sir, I am Captain Gabriel Booth, Australian Army and commanding officer of a tier one special forces unit.”
Now, normally I didn’t go into that much detail, I never usually mentioned my rank– not that what I told him was anywhere close to what I actually did, but I couldn’t let him get the upper hand on me now could I?
“C—Captain?” Mr Mercy stuttered.
“Yes, sir,” I grinned at him then squeezed his hand hard once before I dropped it. Until he could explain his and his son’s treatment of Devon, he got treated nothing better than how he did his own daughter. With zilch respect.
“But, this is a bikies club,” he argued in bewilderment, looking over my shoulder at the scene behind me.
Of course, he saw only what he wanted to, what the media and the stereotype allowed people to see. A group of leather-wearing men, their cuts slightly scuffed from years of wear, worn out blue jeans and old military pants.
“Yes, sir, it is,” I replied noncommittedly.
“You have my daughter at a place where criminals live? Drugs and guns and prostitutes?” he roared right at me, his face red with fury.
I stood there with my legs braced apart, my arms behind my back with my hands clasps loosely together completely unaffected by his outburst. It wasn’t something I had not heard
many times growing up and nothing my own kids wouldn’t hear. It was the way of some people to jump to conclusions without asking. Happily, when given the opportunity to explain just what the Wounded Souls were about, most people accepted us without a worry. Looking at Devon’s father and brothers, I had a suspicion that was not going to happen.
“I am sorry, Mr Mercy, but do you see any of that going on here, because I don’t, sir. I see men standing here on guard because your son turned up here, ranting and yelling and spewing vile crap about his own sister. All we are doing is making sure no one gets in here to cause trouble,” I defended myself and my family.
“Where is Devon? She has been gone for over a month my sons tell me, and I want to know why.”
Unfuckingbelievable. He didn’t even know how long she had been here in Ballarat, why she left. Just what kind of family were these people. Surely the three wankers told their dad the day she left with Shiloh and why. Not waiting until now to explain his daughter no longer resided in the family home.
“She is at work at the moment, sir, if you want I can get her to call you—”
“Listen here you fucking dirty biker, go get my sister back here now. She owes me money for all the time I wasted—”
Instantly, I turned from the man in front of me and in three large strides made it to Kyle, the blood had stopped flowing from his nose but judging by the size and shape of it my punch broke it.
Grabbing him by the collar of his yuppie button down shirt, I got in real close to his face and snarled at him.
“You pathetic excuse for a man. If you want money then you go and earn it like a decent human does instead of leeching off my woman. What kind of person takes money off a woman then does nothing but complain about her?”
Kyle’s body cringed back as far as my hold on him allowed, in his eyes I saw fear, and the truth he knew in my words.
“I love your sister with everything in me. I don’t care about her money and neither does she. Right now, she is at her job, a job this club gave her because of her talent and because she is a fucking amazing person. You don’t even deserve to speak her name let alone take any more money from her,” I spat at him, controlling the deep urge to punch him again.
Gabriel (The Wounded Sons Book 1) Page 16
