by Brook Wilder
She grinds against my face, wanting more… more, too. I give it to her, delving into her pussy and flicking my tongue out along her clit too. Her legs are hooked over my shoulders, helping her grind as she writhes all over me.
There you go… there you go…
She cums quick, and she’s beautiful when she does. Cursing softly as her thighs start a slow rolling tremble that turns into a full shake as she arches up off the island and cries out. Her orgasm floods my tongue and I lap up every sweet, tangy drop she gives me, slurping it down like a starving man.
She pants, and I let her as she comes down. I kiss her thighs as tenderly as I can and stand up, positioned between her legs.
“Best dessert before dinner ever.”
***
“That’s a huge haul!”
Dom’s come over, to help me with Sarah’s things that I’ve got loaded up to take out to the children’s home. I deeply underestimated just how much was left of Sarah’s, but it’s good to know her things will go to a good place and get used by people who actually know what they’re doing with all this artsy stuff.
“Yeah. ‘Bout time I went ahead and did so. Think it’s gonna be good.”
Dom grins at me, then eyes the house.
“Take it things are going well?”
“Yeah.”
“Even with the… uh ‘Thing?’”
I’d only told Dom and Santiago about the situation between Lena and Marc, mostly because I’m fairly sure Marc wants to get back at me over Lena. It’s the explanation for what went down at Santiago’s, I’m sure of it. It’s the only reason we haven’t launched a full retaliation against them either. This isn’t a club issue. This is a me-and-Marc issue. I’ll be the one to handle it.
I nod. “Yeah. Even with the ‘Thing.’ I’m glad she told me.”
“Where’s the little lady now?”
I gesture to the house. “Organizing the last tub of supplies.” I glance at my phone to see the time. “I’m gonna see if she needs help. Hold on.”
I trot up to the front door. I don’t hear any movement going on in the study room, but I do hear Lena’s voice.
Huh?
Curious, cautious, I approach the room and hang back to hear what she’s saying.
“…of course, I am… Yes, like I promised… Their whole organization… It’ll be easy; he’ll give me everything. I’ll get you something soon… I love you too, Marc.”
I see red. Her words hit my brain like a brick and everything that I have thought about Lena stops being true in the words she speaks to the man who supposedly drove her to my arms.
I’m heated. I want to punch something. I know I can’t stay here. I don’t want to hurt Lena. That faint bump that’s started to form on her belly tells me that the baby at least isn’t a lie. I don’t want to hurt that, either.
I wonder if it’s even mine for real.
My fist slams into the wall beside the study door. Lena gasps, but I’m already out the door and on my bike, riding out to oblivion before she can spin more lies.
How could I have been so fucking stupid? To think that, after everything that happened with Sarah, I could have that second chance at love? Nah. That only comes once in a lifetime, and it was dumb to think that I would have found such a thing in Lena. A Viper.
A liar.
Chapter Nineteen
Lena
No!
No, no, no!
Panic settles in as that punch startles me and the slam of the door echoes through the house. I knew taking the call from Marc while James was home was a bad idea. I should have waited, should have texted him instead.
I have no concrete evidence to give Marc. I lied to keep him off me a little longer, just to buy more time. That’s ruined now. James knows and…fuck, Marc’s going to kill me. Marc needs the evidence I promised to him and, if he finds out that I lied to him…
I fly out of the house, brain on autopilot as I do so. I need to pursue James, but the chase is futile; dust kicks up where James’ bike tires dug into the ground. He’s long gone, and so is my chance to explain.
Explain what, though? The full convolution of my lies? Marc wants evidence, evidence I can’t give him. Intertwined with that is James and his own wants. The wants of my body. The wants of my love. Ha!
Even with that, James could kill me if he wanted; I’ve seriously fucked up.
“Hey, what happened?”
I blow passed Dom, going to the pick-up. I’m in luck; the keys are still in the ignition. Ignoring Dom and his continued questions over why James peeled out of here so quickly, I hop in. I have more important things to address, like fixing this before it blows up in my face even more than it already has.
At this point, I need to do what I can to protect my child. Maybe—if I time this right—I can turn this around.
***
I park poorly outside the bar. I don’t have time to care about the fact that I’m taking up two spaces instead of one and, to be honest, I don’t really care. I rush into Grizzly’s, ignoring the people that call after me. After all, it’s my day off, what am I doing here? Doesn’t matter. I go toward the back of the bar. James isn’t here and I slip into the office.
About three weeks into working here, I found out that they changed the way they stored their pot deliveries. With business booming more than usual, James no longer kept the stashes in his office, but in the more spacious walk-in. The keys were kept in the office, however.
I feel like some kind of insidious thief as I look over my shoulder in paranoia, making sure that no one’s watching me or suspecting that I’m about to do something wholly reprehensible. Everyone’s too busy up front with orders and avoiding chaos to pay attention to what I’m doing as I duck into the office. All I have to do is give a picture, then warn James to move product before Marc can make a move.
As soon as my fingers wrap around the set of keys dangling from the wall, I hear a click behind me.
I know that sound. It’s the sound of a gun’s safety going off. The keys slip from my fingers onto the floor and I turn. Abel and Dom flank James by the doorway; I didn’t even hear them come in. Dom must have followed me; James must have told him what happened.
I swallow. It’s not Dom and Abel, however, that have the bulk of my attention. It’s James who’s holding the gun, and he’s got it pointed directly at my face.
There’s anger in his eyes, anger that’s far from comforting.
“James…”
“Shut up.” His voice is cold. “I wanted to give you one last chance. Maybe I had heard wrong. But here you are. I told you not to lie to me again, Lena.”
I’m sure that this is the end. That, in James’ fury of my betrayal, he is going to snap and snap hard on me.
Chapter Twenty
Lena
I didn’t struggle when James had Abel and Dom tied my hands behind my back. What would have been the point? I think the only reason James didn’t do it himself was that he’s too angry to touch me right now.
He had called Dom, explained everything. Called Abel, too. Damage control. See if I was going to do the unthinkable and then move to phase two if I was. Phase two, as I call it, is having me pushed into the back of Abel’s car while Dom, Abel, and James talk outside the car. I can’t hear what they’re saying but, if I know bikers, they’re planning something.
I sigh and lean my head against the head rest. I need to explain everything to James, but I don’t know how I’m going to get to that. I see James pacing outside, hear sharp spikes in volume indicating someone’s not too happy. It gets loud enough that I make out some of the conversation.
“…don’t know how much she’s fucking handed over!”
“So we question her.”
“Dom…”
“Not here.”
“The safehouse?”
“Yeah.”
“I need to call the others; this could be serious shit. Meet us there.”
Peering out, James, Abel, and Dom break a
nd I see James go to his bike. He straddles it as he pulls out his phone. The angered expression on his face pains me. I’m the reason that it’s there. It’s my fault that he’s in this situation, my fault that I’m in this situation.
The car doors open and in slide Abel and Dom. Abel glances behind me, a peculiar look in his eyes.
“Is James okay?” I ask. He frowns.
“We’ll see.” That’s all he says as he starts the ignition up.
The silence is unsettling as we pull out of the bar parking lot. Neither Abel nor Dom speak to me. Behind us, a headlight flashes; James is following us.
At the risk of putting myself in a worse position than I already am, I speak up.
“Where are we going?”
“Safehouse,” Dom answers in a clipped tone. I already knew that; I’m more concerned about the location. But, judging by Dom’s tone, he’s not going to tell me that. New question.
“Why?”
Dom makes an annoyed sound; I’ve never seen him so agitated.
“Why do you think?”
I don’t get the chance to respond before Abel’s answering.
“James called a meeting,” he explains flatly “We’re going there to talk shop.”
“Why am I going there?”
Abel glances into the rear view mirror at me. I don’t like the troubled look in his eyes.
“You’re going to tell us everything you know.”
The foreboding that settles over the car sends a shiver down my spine. So, they’re going to question me. Fine. But it’s not the questioning that has me worried; it’s the after.
What are they going to do with me?
***
I’m left with that thought as Abel drives us silently through Tomahawk. The paved road gives to gravel, and as we leave the limits of the city, I see the sun is starting to lower from the sky’s apex.
Finally, we come up to the safehouse.
It’s an old, unassuming two story that looks like the remnants of an 1800’s homestead. It’s probably been Grizzly property since before the Grizzlies were the Grizzlies; it looks like it has a history worth learning. Too bad I’m not here for a lesson.
There’s already a small collection of bikes outside. Whoever James called was quick to get here, not like that’s much of a surprise. I feel my anxiety spike in the pitter-patter of my heart as reality sinks in that much further. Whatever happens here tonight, I’m going to be forever changed. We’ll just see if that’s a good thing or not.
It’s Abel that pulls me from the car. He’s surprisingly gentle despite the tension in the air. I wonder if James told him not to hurt me, if James still cares enough to be that kind of man.
The thought falters, however, as James pulls up to the house. Eyes from the other bikers flit between the two of us and James’ settle on me as Abel brings me over. There’s no concern from me from anyone. The only thing that’s cast my way are gazes of betrayal, the deepest of which resides in James’ gaze. The hatred in his eyes tells me everything that I need to know.
I’ve lost him.
“James…”
“Take her inside.”
Abel complies, bringing me in without struggle on my part. The eyes of the other bikers follow us and burn into my back as we pass into the nondescript home. I’m not allowed to linger on the thought as I’m brought down the hall and into a room.
It’s empty except for a single chair in the middle. The window is boarded up; there’s not a trace of humanity in it.
While I’m thinking about the coldness of this room, wondering if it’s to be my prison from here on out, Abel sets me into the chair and Dom locks the door behind us. I wonder if it’s to keep me in or to keep others out.
“What have you told Marc?” Abel starts as soon as the lock clicks. I guess we’re not beating around the bush here in the slightest.
“I haven’t told him anything,” I say softly, knowing that it’s unlikely that they’re going to take the truth of that at face value right now. “I haven’t given him a thing.”
“What have you told Marc?” It’s Dom who speaks now, coming closer to drop down in front of me. “We already know you were in with Marc. Just tell us what we need to know.”
“And I’m telling you; I didn’t give anything to Marc. I was lying to him…”
Dom scoffs. “We’re supposed to believe that? James overheard you—you admitted to being Marc’s ex, though I guess you’re not really his ‘ex’—and you were telling him that you were going to get information for him. What have you already given him?”
“Dom…”
He holds up his hand to silence me. “We’re not gonna hurt you, but we aren’t going to stop this until you tell us what you told Marc.”
“I told you, I didn’t…”
“Stop lying! You could have gotten people hurt with this shit!”
“I didn’t tell him anything!”
Dom’s nostrils flare and he pushes away from me. He begins pacing the room, his fingers running through his hair. He turns on me.
“You know, James really thought that you were special,” he says. “Even coming from the Vipers. He thought that there was something about you. We all did. I can’t believe…”
He’s angry. He’s frustrated. I get it. I would be too if I found out that someone I had put my faith in was little more than a liar at face value. But I couldn’t tell him that I had given information to Marc when I truly hadn’t. And, in the midst of my lies, I couldn’t make him believe it, either.
Chapter Twenty-One
James
The other heads and I stand in the safehouse living room: Bones, a big bastard who’s definitely not bony, Houston, the eldest of us, and a handful of other long-term Grizzlies that have served through thick and thin.
“This is gonna be big shit if that tart gave them hard info,” Bones says gruffly. “We need to put all product underground, have the greenhouses cleared ASAP.”
“She’s probably the one that told them to attack the party,” Houston interjects. “What are we gonna do about that?”
Everyone looks to me, looking for answers that I can’t give them. I don’t know what Lena gave them, only that she lied to me.
I feel like a fucking moron.
I had come to trust her. To want her. I had come to see her as someone that I wanted in my life, only to have her show me in every way why I should have never given her the time of day. The lie. The betrayal. The entrapment. If it had just been me, it’d have been one thing. I could have moved on past the lies and fucking dealt with it, probably. But there’s a whole MC that’s gonna rattle because of her and a baby in the middle of it that didn’t ask for all this.
That baby… That’s something that has my mind reeling. I still don’t know what to do about that.
“I was lying to Marc!”
Talk dies down as Lena’s voice come in from the interrogation room. I frown; I wanted them to question her, not cause her distress. I tell myself that it’s not for her sake, but for the baby’s sake. But what’s this? Lying to Marc?
“Excuse me.”
I go the room, trying the door to find it locked.
“Open up. It’s James.”
I hear footsteps on the other side trek toward me. The metallic clink of a lock turning precede Dom’s agitated face greeting me. He’s taking this whole thing as hard as I could expect; he’s protective over the MC, always has been.
“What’s this about lying to Marc?” I push inside, cutting to the chase. I try not to let the sight before me of Lena bound to the chair get to me, and I push back the impulse to comfort her with the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes.
Lena draws in a breath. “James…”
“Don’t,” I say. “Just tell me what you mean.”
Lena stares at me a while. Her eyes search my face, seeking reassurance that I can’t give her. Even without my reassurance, Lena sighs.
“The week we met, Marc gave me an assignment,” she st
arts. “He wanted me to seduce you, get close. He wanted me to make you trust me, so that you’d tell me everything about your operation here. When I had enough evidence, he was going to take it to the feds. Then this whole area would be his. He’s always wanted it and he thought this would be the best way to get it.”
