Stone (Knights Corruption MC Series Book 2)

by S. Nelson

  His frown was comical, mainly because Stone was so damn rugged-looking any confused expression on his face always amused me for some odd reason.

  “You said some nasty stuff last night. Now all of a sudden this morning you can’t just say you want to have sex?” He laughed before sitting on the edge of the mattress, the pads of his fingers tracing the length of my arm. After our tryst in the bathroom, he’d managed to take me twice more, both times colorful phrases pouring from my lips as if I’d turned off my brain-to-mouth filter. But what I’d chosen to say turned both of us on, the freedom to tell him exactly what I wanted to do to him, or what I wanted him to do to me, quite exhilarating.

  “I’m still half asleep, so stop makin’ fun,” I pouted. “Besides, it’s too early for such talk.”

  Leaning over me, his mouth claimed mine before he spoke again. A quick flick of his tongue enticed me, shoving away whatever sleepy cobwebs still remained. Stretching my arms above my head, the sheet inched down and exposed my breasts, my nipples already pebbled from my body’s reaction.

  A quick gasp from Stone had my eyes studying his face, trying my hardest to determine if he was going to stay and take me once again, or tell me he had to leave me for a bit. Before I could open my mouth to ask, however, he stood and walked toward the closet.

  “While I would love to stay and . . . you know,” he said, turning his head and smirking, “there’s something I have to tend to at the club.”

  I couldn’t help it, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What do you have to do?” I asked, sitting up in bed but not covering myself. Normally, I never ask him about what goes on inside his club, but for some reason I decided to. He’d assured me they were well on their way to becoming a clean, legit club. The only thing he’d ever shared with me was that they had to tie up some loose ends before everything turned around for them. And while I hated the sound of his cryptic message, I had no say whatsoever, so I held my tongue and prayed for the best.

  “Nothing to worry yourself about, Addy. You know that.” His tone had instantly changed from playful to serious. I knew he hated that he couldn’t share certain aspects of his life with me, but I also knew he did it to ensure my safety. The only good thing was that those days were numbered. Once the Knights were riding on the right side of the law, there would no longer be a need for him to hide things from me, something I was sure would be a huge relief for both of us.

  Tossing the covers aside, I placed my feet on the ground and very slowly stood up. My belly was growing more and more each day, making me extremely happy but also very uncomfortable. My poor bladder took the brunt of it, threatening to explode every half hour. Okay, maybe not that often, but it sure felt like it.

  Before I disappeared inside the bathroom, he halted my steps with a firm grasp on my waist, his body pressed against my back. “I wish I could stay in this room with you forever,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across the side of my face before he leaned down and kissed my shoulder. “But I have to go.”

  “I know,” I breathlessly replied, my body pressed tightly against his. It was the sweetest torture. I loved the feel of him, his skin warming my own, but I knew our shared moment was fleeting. This time, at least. I had nothing planned for the day, so as soon as he returned home he was all mine, and I was sure I could convince him to retreat to this very room until the sun rose the next day.

  Kissing my temple, he stepped back and retreated into his closet to find some clothes. Once he was fully dressed, he headed toward the bathroom to brush his teeth. I was already inside, relieving my bladder. Shortly later I joined him at the sink, washing my hands and reaching for my toothbrush, We both smiled and went about our mundane task, and all the while I couldn’t help but to think that I was the luckiest woman in the world.

  I couldn’t explain my contentment, other than to say it was times like this that a serene mood wrapped around me and held me tightly. Standing close to each other, the only sound coming from the bristles cleaning our teeth, was peaceful. If that made any sense. Outside our house, the world was frenzied—my own body was chaotic at times—but here, tucked inside our spacious bathroom, I found peace. If only for a few short moments.

  My last round of treatment was completed three weeks prior, and today was the day I found out if all I’d gone through had worked . . . or not. I’d chosen to keep my upcoming appointment a secret from Stone because I didn’t know what I would do if I had to handle my own emotions on top of his if Dr. Weber delivered news I didn’t want to hear.

  I warred back and forth with needing Stone’s strength if the news was bad and shielding him from the devastation if my body was still riddled with the destructive disease. Realizing he would be upset with me for not including him, whether the news was good or bad, I decided I would deal with one thing at a time.

  Our growing child was my number one concern. I would make him refocus on our son, instead of being upset with me for trying to protect him from the deliverance of the diagnosis.

  I had a few hours before I had to meet with Dr. Weber, so I took full advantage of the time to do some shopping for the nursery. Thankfully, our home had three bedrooms, one of which we turned into the baby’s room. Stone had already constructed the crib, working tirelessly until the wee hours of the morning to make sure he’d finished it on time. His time. I reminded him we still had a couple weeks, but he insisted on completing it as soon as possible. At one point, he got so frustrated with the damn thing he called in Marek to help him. Two tough, grown men cursing and pounding away on defenseless pieces of wood was quite the amusing sight.

  Sully had accompanied her husband, and while our men took out their frustrations on the crib they were trying to assemble, we lounged in front of the television, catching up on each other’s lives while partly paying attention to the cheesy reality show that was on.

  Throwing a light jacket over my tank top, I grabbed my keys from the side table and walked outside, inhaling the fresh air and allowing myself to take those few precious moments to really appreciate the gift of another day.

  Once inside my car, I called Stone to let him know I was running a few errands but would be back at the house before he returned. There was a back and forth between us I knew was going to happen, mainly because he wanted to send one of the men over to go with me, to keep me safe, but I reminded him I was okay by myself. Long bouts of silence passed between us before he finally relented, but only after I’d agreed to call him to check in every hour. It was a small compromise, so I agreed.

  The drive to town was relaxing. I enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the people going about their daily routines, running their own errands, laughing and enjoying the beautiful summer day.

  California was ungodly hot sometimes, but today was perfect. A slight breeze carried the promise of better days, the sun shining on all of us trudging through yet another day of life. Thankfully.

  Once I’d completed all my errands, I drove the short distance to the hospital, preparing to meet with Dr. Weber about my diagnosis. My heart was in my throat waiting for him to walk through his office door. A slight panic rushed through me when I saw the handle turn, sweat breaking out along my hairline when he stepped into the room.

  If his tight smile was any indication, I knew I should prepare myself for the worst.

  Stone

  It’d been my dumbass idea to bring up the topic of having a couple men accompany Jagger to his next fight, and apparently it had blown back in my face. Marek had told me the prospect’s next bout was fast approaching and he wanted me and Tripp to attend, reporting back anything we deemed unusual or of concern.

  I tried to talk my way out of it, but it was part of club business so Marek wanted me to take an active role in our other source of income. Jagger brought in a pretty penny for us, winning every fight, no matter the size of his opponent. None of these fights were legal, which meant there were no rules. No consequences in case someone was seriously injured. But all the fighters knew the potential ri
sks they faced as soon as they stepped into the ring.

  Thankfully, Jagger was truly gifted, his speed and agility enhanced under my guidance and tutelage. Our sparring sessions, although fewer in the past couple months, were very beneficial for him. He was quick. I had a lot on my mind as of late, and the prospect took full advantage, striking when he knew I wasn’t giving our sessions my full attention. But it was all good. He was learning how to hone in on his opponent’s weaknesses, whether it be physical or mental.

  “Stone, you with us?” Marek shouted, pounding the table to garner my attention. I’d been so lost inside my own head I missed the rest of what he’d said.

  “Sorry. What?” I asked, leaning back in my chair while running my hands over my face in irritation.

  “We keepin’ your ass from somethin’?” Trigger inquired, glaring at me from across the table, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The man was probably my biggest enemy these days, although he reduced the amount of times he gave me shit for messing with his niece. Every day he seemed to further accept the idea of Addy and me, our child the solidification needed for him to know I wasn’t going anywhere. But it was times like this when he chose to take advantage of his dislike for me. I didn’t care, though, because all I had to do was say something, which in turn pissed him off more.

  “Yeah . . . your niece,” I fired back, leering back at him with equal intensity.

  Sucking air through his teeth, he told me to go fuck myself before turning his attention back to the leader of our group. I grinned over my brief moment of victory.

  Trigger and I loved to push each other’s buttons, but I just wasn’t in the mood for his antics right then.

  Turning to face Marek, I nodded to indicate I was focused on the conversation once more.

  “As I was sayin, Zip finally has some info on Yanez. Something I think we can use against him.” Motioning toward the young member, he waved his hand to give him the floor.

  “Last night, I finally caught a meeting between Yanez and Psych. I have no idea what they were talking about, but I managed to snap off a few incriminating pictures,” he said, tossing a few of the aforementioned photos on the table for us to see. “There’s even one in there where they’re exchanging a black duffel bag for an envelope of what I can only assume is money.”

  When the pictures finally made their way into Marek’s hands, he smirked, realizing he finally had the evidence he needed to meet with Rafael Carrillo about the fate of the cartel’s right-hand man. Marek knew Carrillo would kill Yanez after finding out the scumbag went behind his boss’s back and continued to deal with the Reapers.

  It would come down to convincing Carrillo to allow Marek to have the privilege of snatching the man’s life, an argument I think my friend would win considering Carrillo knew what had happened to Sully.

  A pregnant pause shrouded the room, all the men looking back and forth at one another, waiting for someone to speak and break the growing tension.

  Frustrated with the lack of communication, something which was dragging out our meeting and therefore keeping me from getting home to my woman, I blew out a breath and leaned forward in my chair. “So, what’s the next move, Marek?”

  Locking eyes with me, he said, “You and I set up a meet with Carrillo. On the side. Away from Yanez. It’s gonna be difficult, but I think we can arrange something soon.”

  Damn it! Something else I didn’t want to do, but I knew I had to help my friend seek the revenge he needed.

  Tapping my finger on one of the many pictures of Psych and Yanez, I asked a question I knew grated on Marek’s mind every single day. “You heard anything from Psych . . . or his club? I think it’s weird they haven’t tried to . . . you know.” My words drifted off, not really wanting to complete the sentence.

  All the muscles in his body locked up tight, his fear and rage pouring out of him for all of us to witness. “I know.” He nodded. “And no. We’ve been watchin’, but nothing. I was shocked when Zip was able to capture these pics of Psych because the man has been virtually missing for the past few months.” Running his hands through his dark hair, he straightened himself before finishing his thoughts on the subject. “I’ve been waiting for him to come for her, but he stays locked away in the shadows. I know damn well he’s planning to attack, I just don’t know when.”

  “Then why don’t we just attack them again and take him out?” Ryder offered, slapping his hand against the solid wood of our meeting table.

  “Because we’ve been watchin’ their club and Psych is rarely there. I don’t care about the rest of them. All I need to do is take out the head of that fucking club, then all will be quiet.”

  “Yeah, but what about Rabid? Psych’s VP?” Ryder kept on pushing the topic and I saw what it was doing to Marek, his face scrunching in irritation, although everything Ryder was asking was legit.

  “What about him?!” Marek yelled. “The man’s not gonna do anything once his prez is dead. He doesn’t have the balls to come after us. That much I know for sure.”

  He was right. Rabid was definitely a follower, not someone we had to worry about seeking vengeance for the death of his leader. If you could even call Psych that.

  Holding his hands up in surrender, Ryder cocked a brow and tilted his head, letting Marek know he meant no harm with his questions. A simple nod from his prez let him know everything was good between them.

  “Anything else we need to talk about?” Marek asked the group, looking from one man to the next. The table was full, everyone in attendance and eagerly waiting to hear what business had to be dealt with next. Fortunately, we were all on the same page when it came to the club, all of us realizing what had to be done in order to solidify our futures.

  Just when I thought our meeting was over, Tripp spoke up, breaking the silence dancing around the room.

  “I wanted to let you guys know that I’ll be heading out in a few days. I’m fully recovered now, and well . . . there’s no more need to be shacked up here any longer.” His eyes danced with appreciation toward every one of his brothers, including myself. Even though I hated the relationship between him and Addy, I knew he would never overstep his bounds where she was concerned. He viewed her like a sister, only goading me for a reaction when he was in need of some amusement.

  Marek was the first to speak, beating us all to the punch. “Actually, Tripp, I’m gonna need you to stick around a bit longer. If you don’t mind.” Although it appeared as if our leader was asking, he wasn’t. He needed the nomad to stay put, for a reason he was about to divulge. “With everything else we need to take care of, I need someone to oversee Flings as well as the new club we have opening in a couple weeks. Pussy on tap, brother. Nuthin’ better, right?”

  I knew what my friend was doing. He was enticing Tripp to stay with the mere mention of naked broads. Little did he know the nomad needed no such allure. He would stay simply because his president needed him to—nothing more, nothing less. I saw the far-off look in Tripp’s gaze when he thought no one was watching. He wanted to stay with us, but didn’t want to wear out his welcome. I was sure being a nomad was lonely, and his time with us had to bring out his need for brotherhood more than usual.

  Tripp’s head jerked upward. “Whatever you need, Prez,” was his simple answer.

  Adelaide

  I felt like I was experiencing déjà vu, sitting across from Dr. Weber in his office. His attention was focused on whatever he was reading on his computer, glancing in my direction every few seconds. Why? I had no idea, but I had an awful feeling he was going to tell me something I didn’t want to hear.

  Standing, he rounded his desk and came to sit next to me, much like he’d done when he’d initially delivered the bad news. My stomach dropped, fear coursing through me and preparing me for the next few minutes of my life.

  It was funny how quickly regrets flashed in front of me, realizing I was about to be told something awful. Again. I wished right then that I hadn’t fought so hard against being with Sto
ne, that I’d spent more time with my father, that I’d developed more friendships with the people I worked with, that I’d traveled more.

  The list could go on and on if I let it.

  Grasping my hand in his, Dr. Weber pulled my full attention before he parted his lips to speak. “Addy, your CA-125 bloodwork test came back a little higher than I would have liked to see after your rounds of treatment. While your levels are lower than before, I don’t think you’re out of the woods yet.”

  His words became muffled the more he spoke, as I had no idea what CA-125 meant, and honestly I didn’t really have enough energy to care. I knew right then I’d made the wrong decision by not telling Stone about the appointment, needing his support more than ever. The air surrounding me suddenly became too thick, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest the more Dr. Weber continued to talk. Orbs of light clouded my vision, and if I hadn’t known any better, I feared I was about to pass out. Pulling my hand away from Dr. Weber, I gripped the arms of my chair, steadying myself while I tried my best to calm down. Taking slow and steady breaths until everything eventually came back into focus.

  “ . . . and that’s why we’ll wait until you have the baby before taking the biopsies.”

  His words shoved me back into the reality of our conversation, even though I’d missed the majority of what he’d just said.

  “I’m sorry, what?” Leaning closer, I furrowed my brow, urging him to repeat himself.

  “I know this is a lot for you to process, Adelaide, but you need to start thinking about what you want to do once your son is born.” Staring at the still-confused look on my face, he took a breath before continuing. “We are going to schedule an appointment after the birth, where I will take a biopsy of both of your ovaries, just to be sure. If you still have the cancer, like I suspect you do, we’ll discuss future treatment options. We can be more aggressive after you give birth, so at least we won’t have to worry about your baby’s health on top of yours. The only thing is that you won’t be able to breastfeed. Well, it’s not highly recommended, at least, not while you’re undergoing treatment.” Patting my hand, he finished with, “The good news is that your levels are lower than before, meaning you are not any worse off than you were before you started receiving chemo.” A small smile tipped his lips, trying his best to be positive during a meeting which was anything but.