Abandon (Midnight Saints MC Book 1)

by Iris Sweetwater

  “Is this charity shit worth the risk?” Doc asked.

  “It sure as hell is,” Tony stated without a moment’s hesitation.

  I knew why he was so dedicated to this ride. He had let it slip once, while we were drunker than a damn skunk. His baby sister had died when she was only three from cancer that could now be stopped in its tracks due to the children’s hospital research. He’d been eight or nine at the time, and it had nearly broken him to watch her waste away senselessly. This ride was his new salvation.

  The doc shrugged his shoulders, then turned to pat Jordyn’s back, and told him, “Keep the bandages clean and dry. I’ll take out the stitches in a week. You’ll have a badass scar to show off to the strippers you like so much. Give one or two a quick fuck for me.”

  Jordyn was shocked, but the old man simply cackled and packed up his bag.

  “Should I look in on Reagen before I head out? I don’t plan on coming back soon,” Doc added once his laughter ended.

  Tony was about to say yes when I cut in quickly, “No, Doc. I just saw her, and she’s fine. She doesn’t seem to be in too much pain at all. She’s showered and resting. There’s no need to disturb her.”

  Tony gave me a frown that said he knew something was up. I’d cut off his words, and rushed in to stop the doc from seeing Reagen. Hell, I wasn’t ready for the doc, or anyone else, to learn I’d been messing around with her. If the doc checked her insides for the tear she’d sustained, then he’d also be able to tell she’d had orgasms. It would be obvious who the stupid fucker was that had practically molested her before she was well.

  I felt my face heat up under Tony’s gaze. His frown became a smirk, and I swiftly changed where my attention was focused. “Hey, Jordyn, you want a beer? I’ll get you one if the doc okays it.”

  “He’s numb, and he won’t need pain meds for a while, so he can do some drinking now. Start him on the meds a couple of hours after the beers wear off. He’s only getting a day’s worth. No one else needs to get addicted. Maxum’s done enough to prove how fucked up you can get.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Doc. I don’t need any meds. I’m strong enough to handle this shit,” Jordyn stated.

  “That’s because you’re numb as a doorknob, you shithead. Once it wears off, you’ll feel like your shoulderblade is burning in hell. I’ve been down that road, and it’s not a fun ride. Take the shit the doc is offering, so you can get a few hours of sleep. We’re gonna need your sorry ass, messed up shoulder and all, to cover our asses during the ride and carnival,” Tony commanded.

  “Is that an order?” Jordyn asked, clearly not understanding what hell he’d be in if he refused the painkillers.

  “You’re damn right, it is,” Tony replied getting in his face. “Take my advice and don’t push my buttons right now, Jordyn. I don’t want, or need, dissension in the ranks. Do as you’re told, and shut your smart-ass mouth.”

  “Fine. When is my shift at the warehouse?”

  “You don’t get one until next week. You’re too fucked up to do us any good, and I’ll need you to be at your best during the carnival. If you want to help, then drink your beer, take your drugs, and go to sleep. I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow. It just reminds me of what’s going on, and I need a fucking break as bad as Doc.”

  Poor Tony was overloaded with the shit Maxum had started, then walked away from. He had a lot to fix, and even more to stop from happening. I needed to get my own head out from between Reagen’s soft thighs, and do what I could to help. I owed the club that much for giving me the leeway to harbor one of the Diablo’s ol’ ladies among us, despite how much trouble it could bring when her presence was discovered.

  Chapter 11

  Reagen

  I hadn’t known being with someone could be so mind-blowing. Even without full-on sex, I was sated and happy. Seth had shown me how things were supposed to be with a lover. You gave as much as you got. My fucking, dickhead ex had never cared whether or not I liked what was happening. He didn’t notice if I came or not, that was for damn sure.

  But Seth had gotten out of my bed and made a run for it. He’d said he wanted more, then his face had suddenly changed to one of shock and horror. He’d grabbed his clothes and gone into the hall without bothering to put them on. I’d giggled nervously at the ridiculous sight, yet it hurt my heart. It was possible this was the last time I’d get to see the hottest butt in existence, covered with red tracks from my nails, leaving my room. I figured he’d never return.

  I didn’t blame him. Looking down at myself, I imagined what I looked like in his eyes. The scars and bruises were a pitiful sight to behold. I’d lost weight, so my bones jutted out at my hips. I was reminded of the pictures I’d once seen in school, where people were starved and beaten in concentration camps. I was ashamed that Seth had seen me like this.

  But his attention hadn’t felt much like a pity fuck. He’d had a good time. I could still taste him on my tongue, and smell him on my skin. My legs were a sticky mess from coming. The wetness soothed the healing tear inside me. He hadn’t acted as if I was repulsive. He’d taken me the same as I would have expected had I been the woman I was before the beatings. Maybe, he was blind to my faults, or maybe he was the type to screw any old thing. No, even I didn’t believe that.

  I laid still, breathing in his scent, and dreaming of getting down and dirty with him for real next time. I knew I needed another shower, and I also realized I was quite capable of taking one all on my own. The idea saddened me. It fucking meant I was almost well enough to get out of the club, and ease the tension among the crew. Which meant, I’d have to say a hellish goodbye to my Seth.

  Where would I go? I’d have to leave the State. There wasn’t another choice, because Jacob would hunt me down if I stayed within five hundred miles of this place. If the bruises would disappear faster, and I could eat enough to bring back my curves, I might have one chance to convince Seth to leave with me. Then, I wouldn’t be alone. However, I wasn’t that evil of a bitch. I couldn’t ask him to run out on the Midnight Saints. I knew they were essentially his fucking family. That’s what the clubs were all about— a family for those who felt all alone.

  I felt sorry for myself. I had no family, not even a club. I wasn’t welcomed here. Hell, I was barely tolerated. My eyes teared up, and my stomach began to ache. I rubbed it in circles, doing my damnedest to ease the cramping pain.

  My hand moved lower of its own accord, attempting to soothe my nerves by changing what my body was feeling. I closed my tear-filled eyes, and touched where Seth’s sweet lips had been earlier. My pussy still slightly tingled from it, and my probing fingers brought it back to a fever pitch.

  I spread-eagled, and parted my lips. I was wet, and slick beneath my touch. I rubbed gently, and a soft gasp left my mouth. It felt so damn good to forget where I was, where I had come from, and what my future might mean. As long as I could keep the orgasm at bay, and the sweet, all-consuming tension aroused in my pussy, I could let go of reality, so I continued my strokes, slow and steady. I stopped briefly every few minutes to stop from climaxing, then began again.

  I was panting with the need to end it, but I fought against the aching need. The tension built higher and higher, begging for release. The sheets were soaked with my anticipatory juices. I was practically sobbing, and writhing on the bed. Yet, I kept going, tormenting myself to hide from the real world.

  Finally, it proved to be too much. I pinched my clit between my thumb and pointer. I tugged on it, then rolled it softly. My head bent backward. My mouth fell open. My body began to jerk. The pulsing started from inside my pussy. My legs clamped together, holding my hand hostage. I worked my clit faster until I exploded. Seth’s name slipped out among my sobs.

  He wasn’t here. I was alone. Reality kicked in, and I cried myself to sleep.

  A soft hand was nudging my shoulder, and a young voice I didn’t recognize announced, “Wake up, sleepyhead. I brought food. It’s not the crap the guys cook, I sw
ear. I brought it from home. Grandma taught me how to make it. It's good. Come on! Wake up!”

  I opened one eye and stared into a beautiful, young face. She was so pale it hurt my eyes. Her strawberry blonde hair hung in waves down to her tiny waist. She looked so innocent and out of place. Then, she opened her mouth and all signs of innocence fled.

  “You look like shit, bitch. Damn! The guys were right. You’re FUBAR. What does Seth see in you? No matter. We’ll fix this shit. I can make anybody look good. Sit up and eat. Your food is getting cold, and I’m not wasting my hard work. If you don't eat it, the guys will. They appreciate me,” the foul words tumbled from her in contrast to her cherubic face.

  “Sorry I offended you, kid. Who the hell are you?” I asked, annoyed at being awakened, and having my appearance trashed by a child.

  She rolled her eyes, and tightened her lips, before declaring, “I’m not a fucking kid. I wish everyone would get that through their thick, dumbass skulls. I’m nineteen, for shit’s sake. Half the whores around here are younger than me. Just because my dad . . . ” she trailed off.

  “Your dad what?” I asked, not having a clue that she was breaking down.

  She slammed the tray of food down on the bedside table, and turned her back on me. Her shoulders were shaking. It took me a minute to get the point. She was crying.

  What had happened? What could I have said to set off the tears? Damn it, I’d screwed up again! I sat up, wrapped the sheet around me, and went to her. She flinched at my touch, then turned to throw herself in my arms. It hurt my ribs like hellfire, but I wasn’t about to let her know that. She needed comfort. Who else was there to give it?

  She sobbed for a full five minutes. When she got down to sniffles, I repeated, “Your dad what?”

  She moaned, gripped my sheet in a fist, and spoke into my shoulder, “He’s dead. He was the Sergeant at Arms of the Midnight Saints. He was shot in the head a few days ago.”

  Oh, my lord! No wonder she was broken to pieces.

  “What? Who would shoot him, and why would they do that?” I asked quietly.

  She wiped her runny nose on my already dirty sheet, and let go of me. Gross! Now I was wearing an improvised dress of sweat, snot, and bodily fluids. I forgot about it, though, when she began to explain.

  “The Preacher, Maxum, who was the Prez, double-crossed the Saints. He got caught up in drugs and other shit. He wanted more money and power, I guess. Anyway, he wanted to run two clubs. To do that, he put a hit out on Tony. They mistook my dad for Tony and shot him. His back was to them. He never had a chance to defend himself. It’s all a fucked-up mess, and now there’s going to be a war.”

  I knew rival clubs sometimes had a few fights over territory, or petty squabbles over some unknown slight, but this was way beyond that. It was even beyond what the Crypt Keepers would do once they found out where I was. A war? I’d never experienced one between clubs.

  “I’m lost,” I admitted. “Why would The Preacher turn on his own club? Why murder a friend? I thought The Preacher really was a man of God. This sounds crazy.”

  “He was, once upon a time. It’s kind of a fairytale gone bad. No one seems to know how it started. I suppose Maxum craved more than a church or something. Anyway, he was stealing from the club and the church. He was using the money to buy drugs, then sold those for more. Tony says he was probably using too. That’s why he began to gamble and lose cash. He owes a bunch of shitheads, who don’t care who they kill to get what they’re owed, so Maxum is running scared. He’s doing evil shit to save his own fucking hide. I lost my dad because of his twisted lies,” she cried out.

  “I’m so sorry, kid,” I said. “It sounds really fucked up. Seth didn’t tell me the Saints had that kind of trouble. No wonder they don’t trust me. I wouldn’t either. Even I would think I was a spy, since I appeared on their doorstep at a time like this.”

  “Please, stop calling me kid. My name is Bonnie. I’m going to be a Midnight Saint as soon as I can convince Tony I’m ready for it. Because he’s watched me grow up, he thinks of me as Daddy’s little girl. I’m not, though. I’m going to prove it. Hell, Tony’s not that much older than me. Not many of the crew are. It’s some kind of freaking double standard.”

  I grinned. The anger had wiped away her sorrow. I could deal with anger way better than I could a crying kid.

  “Bonnie, I see what you mean, but in a way, I see what Tony sees. You’re young and female, and that makes it difficult to imagine you as a full-fledged Saint. Most women as young as you join up as whores, and he sure won’t allow that. It would be a dishonor to your dad, his friend. I bet he was asked to watch over you if anything happened to your dad, and he’s taking it very seriously. Give him time to realize the child is all grown up. It’s also an honor thing among the club members. They vowed to take care of their mates’ families, and that includes you. They don’t mean to be asses about it. Give it time.”

  “That’s what Grandma says. I’m just sick of waiting. Dad should have got me in when I turned eighteen, but he wanted me to go to college. I am. It’s so boring. I want excitement, and action. It’s all books, and writing papers. Yuck!” Bonnie replied, sounding even younger than she was.

  “It will get better once you get into your chosen electives. Right now, you’re stuck with the basic shit, which is boring I admit. What did you bring me to eat? I’m starving,” I said in order to switch subjects. I knew very little about college, and I didn’t want it to show. In that way, I was actually more naïve than Bonnie.

  “I brought homemade chicken and dumplings, a side salad, and apple pie. You can’t have it, though, until you take a damn shower. You fucking stink! Get clean, then eat. I’ve got some decent clothes you can have. After all that, I’ll do something with that tangled mess you call hair, and put some makeup on you, ‘cause, damn girl, you’re a fucking mess,” Bonnie announced.

  Her bravado was back, and that was a good thing, despite her foul mouth. I shouldn’t throw stones, because my own was just as bad.

  “Thanks for the offer. I could use some help and a friend,” I told her.

  “I won’t guarantee a friendship just yet. I don’t even know you, but I can’t resist fixing a damn mess when I see one. I hear Seth has the hots for you. I don’t get it. I don’t see whatever he sees under all that tangled hair and that skinny ass. However, I recognize the musky scent of sex in this room, so I know he’s had some fun. There’s no accounting for taste, I guess. Or, maybe, he’s just a horny bastard,” Bonnie replied.

  This child was not a child. She might appear to be one, but she knew too much about everything, and she saw way more than I liked for her to. I was sure it had everything to do with the father she had grown up with. Their lifestyle was odd, to say the least. I agreed she was ready to become a Midnight Saint, regardless of her age.

  Once I was clean, and full to the brim from the delicious meal Bonnie had provided, I sat down to allow her to transform me into a more attractive version of myself. While she combed and curled my blonde locks, she chattered about the upcoming charity ride.

  “It’s a really awesome sight to see all those big, tough, tattooed bikers riding together down the mountain and through the city streets. They deliver a pile of cash to the hospital, then get more from the carnival. It’s amazing to see the children give them hugs in return. The bikers are so gentle with the little ones. For one day, everyone is the same. No one shows anger or fear. It’s the coolest thing ever,” Bonnie explained.

  “Does the whole club go?” I asked, hoping I would be allowed to attend.

  “Usually, but things are a bit screwed up this year. Everyone’s fucking afraid there will be trouble. Damn Maxum for ruining everything! A lot of the guys will have to be guarding the carnival instead of riding, and some are too fucked up to ride anyway. It’s never been like this before. I have no clue what’s going to happen, but I’m going, even if they try to stop me,” Bonnie vowed.

  “I want to be there. Do you think
they’ll let me?” I asked

  “Girl, that would be a big, fat, fucking no! You’re a refugee from the damn Blue Diablos. You’re a wanted woman. If you’re seen with our club, the war will get much bigger. Hell, you might be taken, and then what would you do? You want Seth dead? He’ll go after whoever tries to take you, especially since I’ve made you so gorgeous,” she answered as she turned me toward a mirror.

  “Wow! You did a great job. You’ve managed to cover the bruises, and even my nose looks normal. I could use some more eyeliner, though. Can I borrow it?”

  “Why did I know you were one of those women? Why would you hide behind so much goop? Try it my way just once, okay?” Bonnie asked.

  I agreed, but if she left any of the makeup behind, I’d fix my eyes the way I liked them.

  “Hey, I have an idea,” she surprised me by saying. “We could sneak out to the charity ride together. I’ll disguise us. It’ll be a fucking blast!”

  Chapter 12

  Seth

  I’d done it. I’d stayed away from Reagen. I kept myself busy by claiming as much time at guard duty as Tony would allow. The others were healing, which was good news, but things had been too damn quiet. There were no more attacks, attempted robberies, or skirmishes. It was as if the world had righted itself. That fucking terrified me.

  There was no way Maxum and his new crew had stopped their war against us. We had to wonder what they were waiting for. Our worry was that their target would be the charity ride. We held out a slight hope that our former Prez wouldn’t have changed that much, but drugs could make any man turn evil.

  Reagen remained out of sight. I supposed someone was seeing to her needs. Once in a while, I noticed a tray of food sitting outside her door. Bonnie showed up more often, and the guys had mentioned she spent time in Reagen’s room. That didn’t bode well. Two rebellious women could raise enough hell to destroy us. I hoped they had more fucking sense than that.