by Krane, Kasey
After all, he’d said to just let him in and no one else. How was I to be absolutely sure it was Knight if I didn't ask him?
“Leia, it’s Knight. Let me in,” his gruff voice came through the door loud and clear. Deciding I had gotten as much revenge as I could, I opened up the door with a happy smile on my face. I liked winning, even if I was the only one keeping score.
“Oh hi, Knight, c’mon in,” and gestured for him to enter the room. He strode in without a greeting and did a quick search through the motel room before turning back to me. I stared at him, confused. They’d gotten the bad guys - just ask every one of my friends on Facebook. Why was Knight acting like a Sangre was going to jump out of the closet?
“Is everything okay?” I asked, my confusion evident in my voice. “I saw Carmen’s press conference with Maggie – it’s all over the news. I thought you guys got everything wrapped up.”
“Police haven't told press yet, but some of the Sangre got away.” I sucked in a sharp breath and stared at him in horror as he continued. “They are known to seek revenge. I don't know if I was followed back here or not, but if so, they may get desperate and come after you for bait or just kill you as revenge. I’m going to stay with you to make sure.” I stood there, in shock that anyone would want to come after me. I had just met Knight. I hadn't even kissed him yet, for God’s sake. Why would they want me?
“Wait, why would you come back here then? You barely know me.”
“Because I know Butcher,” he said gruffly.
I looked down as my mind flipped through the various scenarios, trying to figure out what to do. Knight’s deep voice had sparked something within me and made a delicious tingle go down my spine.
I looked up from my musings to see him… stripping?
“Knight?!” His name came out as a strangled cry as I watched him sit down to unlace his boots. “What are you doing?” If I had to guess what Knight would do next, stripping down in front of me was not anywhere in the top 10. Or in the top 100.
But holy fuck, it was hard not to get sidetracked by his bulging muscles, gorgeous tanned skin, and tattoos that decorated his body, winding and twirling the way around his torso in a mesmerizing pattern that I would like to explore with my fingertips and mouth and tongue at some future date, but…this!
He kicked off his second boot and reached for his belt buckle when I screeched, “Knight!” He looked up.
“I need a shower,” he said, as if that explained everything. When I continued to stare at him, he sighed and said, “I said, some of the Sangre got away and they may have followed me here. I can’t leave you – it’s dangerous. I’ll spend the night here, make sure you’re okay.”
He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him and I could hear the clunk of his belt as his pants hit the floor. I stood frozen in place, staring at the closed door, wondering how on earth I had walked into this mess. Had Knight really just said that he was going to spend the night here? He couldn't be serious that the Sangre could be interested in me. I was nobody. Other than Knight, no one even knew that I was related to Butcher.
And did he honestly expect me to be able to sleep, with him in the next bed over? I felt my heart beat faster at the idea of laying in the dark, listening Knight’s breath as he slept. There was an all-too-large part of me that thought that this was the best idea that anyone had come up with in the history of ideas. Only to be surpassed by him sleeping in the same bed as me, of course.
But damn, this was all just so fast and crazy and how did I end up here? I wanted to meet my dad, not get shot by Sangre. I was pretty sure I didn't have 'get shot at by Sangre' on my bucket list.
I heard the water click off and the door to the bathroom opened to reveal a shirtless, pants less, almost-naked Knight walk out of the bathroom, clad only in boxer-briefs.
Oh my God, I can't breathe.
Seemingly oblivious to the strangeness of the situation, Knight pulled the bedspread back on the other bed, crawled in, and said, “Goodnight, Leia,” and fucking appeared to go to sleep.
I continued to stare at him, thinking that he was going to flip over and yell, “Just kidding!” Complete with jazz hands.
Instead, his breath evened out and I knew he was out for the night.
What the ever loving fuck.
I contemplated calling the police and reporting that a man had broken into my motel room, but the Dead Legion seemed to be national heroes at the moment, and then there was the small detail that I had told the motel owner that the Dead Legion had recommended his motel to me. Oh, and no broken latch on the door. It would be hard to make the case that he had broken in against my will.
It would also be hard to make a case that he had made any moves towards me that could be considered even a little bit sexual. I couldn't exactly scream assault, considering he had yet to touch me. It was the strangest situation I had ever encountered, surpassing even the bizarre fact that Deming, New Mexico was the focus of international attention.
I would’ve still been tempted to kick up a fuss, even if it made me look like an idiot, except I had never felt so safe in my life. It was strange, it was unexpected, and I had never thought that something like this would happen to me in a million years. But Knight inspired faith and trust in me, far beyond what their short encounters should have inspired. As I changed into my way-too-frumpy-pajamas-considering-my-roommate-for-the-night in the bathroom, I wondered about Knight and his background. His impassive face hid so much from the world; I couldn't help but wonder what secrets Knight held tight against his chest.
I climbed into the empty queen bed and turned off the bedside lamp. I listened to the light breathing of my new roommate and whispered, “Goodnight to you, too,” and tried to go to sleep.
5
Knight
He swung his fist again, punching her jaw, and I heard the sickening sound of teeth cracking under the force. She dropped to the ground and I threw myself in front of her, staring up into my stepfather’s eyes.
“You bastard! Pick on someone your own size.” Behind me, I could hear my mom's sobs and then, the begging started. Through her mangled teeth, she mumbled, “Don’t, Knight. He was right. I should've had dinner—”
“No, he fucking wasn't right,” I yelled and then stood up, eye-to-eye with the man who’d made my life a living hell for the last 16 years.
“So the punk ass has finally decided to speak?” my stepfather taunted me. “That was a whole sentence without a single stutter. I didn't know you were smart enough to string that many words together. Congratulations. The little shit isn't an idiot after all.”
I felt the anger inside of me pushing and growing, shoving everything aside, leaving just an all-consuming hatred for this man. It was hard to string together even the words that didn't start with “T” when my stepfather looked at me with his small, stupid, beady eyes and I knew that if I opened up my mouth, I would make an ass out of myself. I didn't dare chance it, no matter how much I wanted to tear into the man - make him feel as awful and small and worthless as he’d always made me feel.
Instead, I walked to my bedroom and threw some clothes in my backpack, grabbed the pitifully small amount of cash I had on hand and my keys from the dresser. I was going to walk out of there. I had tried and I had failed to change my mother's mind about leaving my goddamn stepfather - again and again, I begged her to walk away but she’d said that she didn't want to give him up. She didn't know how to take care of herself and she didn't want to be alone. I had told her that she would never be alone - that I would take care of her and protect her.
It did not matter. It never did. It never would.
My stepfather was high on meth, the new drug sweeping the area - it made users feel like they could do anything, be anyone, or in the stepfather's case, beat up everyone. He dealt drugs but over the years, he’d started using as much as he was selling and now, he only sold drugs to pay for what he used. We lived off my mom’s payment from the government, which was pathetic
ally little. Over the years, more and more often, my only food for the day was the lunch I was fed at school. When my mother decided that if she couldn’t convince her husband to quit using drugs, she would join him, things got exponentially worse.
I walked past my stepfather and crying mother, still sprawled out on the floor, and headed for the door.
“If you come back I’m going to break every one of your ribs,” my stepfather taunted me when I put my hand on the doorknob. “If you were a real man, you would come back here and stand up to me.”
“Fuck you,” I said and I walked out the door and into the starry night and over to my rusty, beat-up motorcycle that I had received months before as payment for building a fence for the neighbor. I had spent almost all of my time and virtually all of my money just to get it to run and now, it was going to carry me far, far away. Anywhere but here.
It was my 16th birthday today and I knew how I was going to celebrate – freedom. Freedom from the hellhole that had been my home for the last 16 years. No one had bothered to wish me a happy birthday – I guessed that no one even knew or remembered…or cared.
“Happy birthday,” I whispered to myself, and then rode off into the night.
I felt someone shaking my shoulder and I came awake with a startled cry. Instinctually I grabbed my gun that I kept under the pillow and aimed it in front of me. As my eyes adjusted, I stared into Leia’s shocked face, and I realized where I was, and that I could breathe again. I lowered my arms and let my Desert Eagle fall out of my grip. Bishop had always insisted that every member of the Dead Legion carry a Desert Eagle precisely because it was the size of a small cannon, and would thus intimidate the hell out of people.
Based on Leia’s expression, she was suitably intimidated.
I felt like shit.
“You were kicking and making noises…you sounded like you were having a bad dream. I thought I’d wake you up. It’d been going on for a while.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands over my face, trying to scrub away the remnant of the dream. Unlike most dreams, this one had been all too real and I sometimes wondered if I had some form of PTSD from my step-father.
“Sorry,” I said gruffly, and I wished that she would believe that that apology was wholehearted. She couldn’t possibly know that I never said sorry to anyone for anything. Not after the many times my stepfather had forced an apology out of me for some small infraction. Not after I had been forced again and again to apologize simply for breathing.
No, apologies did not come easily to me but goddamn, even I knew that holding a gun to Leia’s head was not called for.
She considered me thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, “Apology accepted. But, now that you’re awake, we need to talk about what we’re going to do today, and tomorrow, and the day after. I came to Deming to meet my father, not to get shot at by the Sangre, and really, if there’s only some Sangre left, is there that much of a threat? Why don’t you just introduce me to Butcher, and I can discuss the situation with him? Do you think he’s at the clubhouse already? It’s pretty early in the morning - he may not be there yet. Why wasn't he at the press conference yesterday? I didn’t see him in the crowd of Dead Legion.”
Wow, did this girl talk a lot. Especially before I had any coffee in my system. I wasn’t sure which topic to tackle first, but I was sure as hell not happy about the last one.
After saving Judge’s ass yesterday, I had mentioned to Bishop Leia’s situation. He had told me get close with her to see if she could be useful in finding out intel on what the Outlaws were actually doing. He also mentioned in no uncertain terms to make sure I kept my cock in my pants when it came to Leia, especially with her father being Butcher. He wasn’t sure if we could trust her, and if I was being honest, I agreed with him. It was almost too much a of coincidence that she came into town trying to find him through us right after he split from the club.
It seemed like a good idea to take her out to breakfast, if only because telling her the truth about her father could get rough and if we were in public, she might not freak out like she would in the privacy of her hotel room.
“Let’s go eat breakfast,” I said simply.
“And you’ll tell me all about Butcher there?” she pressed.
“Promise.”
She nodded, not overly enthusiastic about continuing to wait for answers but doing so anyway. She scurried into the bathroom with her clothes pressed to her chest, as if I could catch a glimpse of anything even remotely sexy through her ridiculously matron-like PJs. That nightgown looked like something a grandmother would wear. Not that I had a grandmother, but I knew that they dressed like…well, old women.
Once she closed the door behind her, I threw back the covers, revealing my morning wood. Fucking A, apparently even with matron-like PJs, there was something about Leia that turned me on. Maybe she should continue clutching her clothes to her tits. I mentally warned myself away, knowing that with the bad blood between Butcher and the fractured Dead Legion clubs, dating Butcher’s daughter would be classified as a Grade A fuckup. Butcher would take the news about as well as Bishop would, which meant that both sides would be pissed at me.
Nope, dating Leia was completely out of the question, no matter how much my palms itched to run over her delicious body. She had these gorgeous wide hips that led up to an incredibly tiny waist. As I pulled on my clothes from the day before, I continued my mental wanderings upward, imagining kissing my way up from her belly button to her generous tits. I had never seen anyone who actually embodied the definition of an hourglass shape…until Leia. I wondered if she knew how fucking gorgeous she was, but as unbelievable as it seemed to me, she gave off an air of someone who truly didn’t know.
Maybe she’d never looked in the mirror.
Her entire life.
And anyway, putting aside Bishop and Butcher and the problems between our ex- members and our club, there was the simple fact that I had to be at least 10 years her senior. She couldn’t be older that her early 20’s. She was as likely to want to date an old man like me as she was to want to fly to the moon next week. I had never thought that 35 was old…until now.
Nope, Leia was completely off limits, no question about it. Even if I somehow overlooked who her dad was, there was still the simple fact that I didn’t fuck girls like Leia. I did women that understood our club. They didn’t expect anything but a good lay, and I knew enough about the female body to provide that. Leia would want love and stability and a picket fence and…
I felt a cold sweat break out all over my body at just the thought of it as Leia came out of the bathroom, hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing short shorts and a cropped tank top that showed off her midriff. I swallowed hard. She was not helping with my newly formed plan to keep my hands off her curves. A longer shirt, longer shorts…Fuck, a brown paper sack would be very useful right about now.
And a parka.
She doesn't see you like that.
Now I just had to repeat that to myself 70 or so times a day. I watched her don strappy, sexy sandals that showed off her adorable pink toenails and swallowed hard again.
Fuck…
The fact that I was contemplating her “adorable pink toenails” was a sure sign that I was so very screwed seven ways to Sunday.
We walked in silence down the block towards my favorite Mexican restaurant in town: La Casita. The day was already starting to get warm, although the heat waves weren’t yet dancing off the asphalt.
“I think what you did for those little girls is just the neatest thing ever,” said a woman’s voice in my ear as I felt a soft touch on my arm. I spun in surprise, my hand on my small cannon strapped to my waist, to see a grandmother with the baby on her hip. Usually, I was very aware of my surroundings but having Leia nearby threw me off. All I could see and sense and smell was her.
Leia was going to be the death of me, no question about it.
I smiled at the older woman, and gave a quick nod. “Appreciate it, ma’a
m.” Embarrassed as hell, I turned back to Leia and we finished the last few steps to the restaurant where I hurried to open the door for her. I may not have been raised to show good manners towards women, but even I knew the rules of gallantry dictated that I opened the door for women like Leia.
She doesn't see you like that.
At the counter, I ordered bacon breakfast burritos and coffee for the both of us. We snacked on the chips and salsa as we waited for the burritos to be delivered.
“All right Knight, you put me off long enough. You better start spilling the beans. What the hell is wrong with my dad? Why won’t you tell me about him?”
I should have realized that Leia would see right through my attempts to put off answering this question. Sure, she was younger than I and painfully naïve – I mean really, who goes chasing their long-lost father across the state on a whim? Butcher could be an axe murderer for all she knew – but I could also tell that she was smart as a whip. I was up Shit Creek if I had to pull one over on her.
“Butcher…He’s no longer part of the Dead Legion.” The waitress delivered our breakfast burritos right then, giving me a blessed reprieve for a moment. But then the waitress disappeared and took the reprieve with her. Dammit.
Leia unwrapped her breakfast burrito out of the tinfoil wrapping and took a healthy bite. She chewed and just watched me, waiting for me to go on. Figuring I would stretch out the silence as long as I could, I plunged ahead.
“A couple weeks ago, a disagreement caused your dad and some other members,” swallow the next sound, keep going, “break off from the Dead Legion.”
All of that was true, of course, but it left out so much – the shooting of Ghost. The seismic shift that it caused in the club. I had been brothers for years with the men who’d left, and having them drive off that night had torn a hole in me that I wasn’t sure was ever going to mend. The Dead Legion were my family - my only family - and having it torn in two…
