by Krane, Kasey
“Well, he’s spent more of his life in the Dead Legion than out, so understanding this part of his life ought to help you understand him better overall.” Mary sat back, settling into her chair more comfortably.
“Knight showed up in Deming on his 16th birthday. His stepfather had beaten the hell out of his mom again. Who knows why - some trumped up bullshit, no doubt.” Despite the awfulness of the topic, I still found myself struggling not to laugh at this petite woman, sweet and unassuming in appearance, letting loose with expletives. I had to remember that Mary’s husband had been an MC President for years. She was tougher than she looked.
“He’d run out of gas on the edge of town. We were coming back from a ride when we saw him on the edge of the road. James sent the rest of the Dead Legion back to the clubhouse while we stayed and helped him out. James could tell Knight was hungry - swore up and down that Knight’s stomach growled at one point although I never heard it - and so when we went into town to get a gas can to bring back to Knight, James stopped at the taco place and grabbed some food.
“Here was this poor kid, on the side of the road, it’s getting dark, and he has no money. He doesn’t want to admit it to us, but he’d spent everything he had to get as far as he had, and then…well, he had no plan after that.” Mary’s jaw clenched and I could tell that it was hard for her to recall what it must’ve been like for Knight. I could feel my throat tighten with emotion. It wasn’t hard to imagine his face, regal and stubborn and prideful as hell, trying to hide the fact that he was scared shitless.
“At first, he refused the food, but James set it down on the ground and told him that he was just going to leave it there and Knight could do whatever he wanted with it after that. Knight just hates taking from other people - he did back then and he does now. He’s so damn full of pride; it’s hard for him to accept anything even bordering on charity.
“So James made him a deal - he’d top off Knight’s gas tank and his belly, and in exchange, Knight would come to the clubhouse the next day and help load trucks for the trucking business.
“It wasn’t long before we had him over here every night for dinner, and boy, could he pack food away. I swear he had an empty leg. James and I talked about it and decided to hire him to work for the Dead Legion Trucking Company by staying out in an old camper of ours and providing ‘security’ for the compound at night. We didn’t need a security guard, but he needed a home but also needed to keep his pride, ya know? Otherwise, we would’ve just had him move in here. I’m not sure where we would’ve put him, but we could have found some spot somewhere.
“But he wanted to work for everything he got, so he slept in that old camper instead. Eventually, he patched into the Dead Legion, and, well, the rest is history, as they say. He even bought a house nearby - did he tell you that?”
I looked at her, surprised. I didn’t know why I hadn’t considered where it was that Knight normally stayed when he wasn’t at the motel guarding over me, but somehow, I just hadn’t thought about it. To realize that he owned a house was just…a little odd to wrap my mind around. Apparently, badass, tattoo-covered bikers stutter, kiss their adopted mothers on the cheek, and own homes.
Not what I expected, no.
“Just up the street,” Mary said, guessing from my stunned face that I had no idea. “Said he wanted to be nearby, in case I ever needed him. He sure is a sweet boy. I don't know how he ended up that way after all he’s been through, but I couldn’t love him more than I do.” She reached out and took my hand in hers, patting our clasped hands with her withered one. “I don’t know what is going on between you two, but believe me when I say that I’ve never seen Knight like this. He was smiling today when he came in, and he never smiles.”
“I wouldn’t say I never smile, Mom,” Knight said drily behind them. We both jumped, and I looked up at him guiltily. How long had he been listening to us? Did he think we had been gossiping about him maliciously?
But he was smiling down at them and I could tell he wasn’t angry. Thank God!
Just then, the timer went off in the kitchen. “I better get those muffins out,” Mary announced, struggling up from her chair but refusing Knight’s offer of a hand.
I wonder if she realizes that she’s as stubborn and prideful as her adopted son…
“You can go wash up, Knight — I’ll have these out in a jiffy.”
Knight winked at me, obviously not upset that he was being ordered to wash up, and sauntered down the hallway to the bathroom. At a loss of what to do, I decided that the polite thing was to follow Mary into the kitchen.
“He also didn’t used to wink at people,” Mary said with her back to me as she pulled the muffins out of the oven and turned off the appliance. I stared at her, mouth agape. How had she seen Knight’s wink?
“Once a mother, always a mother,” Mary tossed over her shoulder with a saucy wink. “I still have eyes in the back of my head, you know.”
Which caused me to break out into peals of laughter.
After we enjoyed our freshly baked muffins, which were beyond delicious, Knight and I headed out. Oh, and after putting the dreaded vest back on again. I stood still for the procedure and made myself swallow every groan and whine that wanted to force its way to the surface. After I was swaddled up again, I hugged Mary tight.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Treat him right or I break you in half,” Mary whispered back. I pulled back from the hug and just stared in shock at Mary, who smiled sweetly at me.
Which caused me to break out into peals of laughter yet again. There was something incredibly intimidating and yet sweet as pie about Mary.
“Do you mind if we stop at my house?” Knight asked as we walked down the sidewalk to his bike. “I need another change of clothes.”
“No, that’d be great,” I said, a tad too enthusiastically. I was stupidly curious to see what his house looked like. True to Mary’s word, it was only the next block over, and although it didn’t have the flowers and the artistic touch that Mary’s had, it was clean and well kept.
The house was tan and the grass was the greenest that you're going to get at this time of the year in the desert. He had a few flowering bushes but, well, nothing like Mary’s house had been.
We walked in the house and I looked around, realizing that the same could be said of the inside. Nothing terrible, just…so bachelor. I wasn't sure if it was my face that gave it away or if he was already aware of its drab personality but Knight said, “Not the most exciting house in the world, I know.”
“It just needs a little bit of color.” I walked over to a white wall and ran my hand over it. “You can actually do quite a bit with these walls. There is no texture on them, which makes them much easier to paint on.”
“Paint?” He said the word as if he had never heard it before. Which, looking around the house, could very well be a possibility.
“Yeah, I mean, I don't know how crazy you want to get, but you own this home right?” At his nod, I plunged on. “I could do a mural, right over here.” I waved my arm in the general direction of, well, the entire room because frankly, it could all use a bit of color.
“Mural? You mean like what they paint on the side of an old building?”
“Yeah, I guess. But, it can be way cooler. Think of the whole wall as being your canvas. What would you like to have painted on it?”
He screwed up his face in concentration, clearly taking my suggestion seriously. I was both surprised and honored by that fact. Somehow, I had just expected him to laugh the suggestion off.
“Well, I guess it should be about shit that matters to me. Could you paint my Harley Duo Glide?”
Which is how I ended up with my third belly laugh of the day.
Maybe Knight is just as much of a badass biker as I thought he was.
“Yeah,” I said when I could finally get her breath back.
Which is how we ended up at the local art store, browsing the paint and drawing aisle, looking for sketc
hbooks and pencils. Unlike the last time that we were at a store, however, this time Knight actually seemed to still like me.
In fact, he spent so much time with his hands somewhere on my body that by time we got back to the house, I wanted to do nothing more than to fuck him senseless. As soon as we cleared the front door, I pushed him up against entryway wall and began to kiss him, shoving the door closed behind us with my foot. He dropped the bag of art supplies to the floor, and eagerly began kissing me back.
He was so eager, in fact, he began kiss-walking me backwards towards the bedroom, not letting his lips off mine for even a moment as we navigated down the hallway and into his bedroom.
“I should probably get rid of this thing,” he said, and began yanking at the straps on the vest. We got it half undone and then I shimmied out of it, too impatient to remove it properly. I let it fall to the floor and then fell back onto the bed, laughing. He grinned down at me. “Never start something you don’t want to finish,” he said with a wink, and settled down on top of me to begin kissing me again.
Except, I wanted to explore. I had to explore. Finally, thank God above, I could touch him all I wanted. And boy howdy, did I want!
I reached up to his shoulders, across his leather vest, and down his biceps covered by his thin t-shirt. I pushed impatiently at the sleeves of his shirt, wanting to get all of this damn clothing off him so I could touch him. From that first moment of that first day when I had looked across the diner and had saw him sitting at the table with Bishop, all I had ever wanted to do was run my hands over his tattoos – admire the way that they wove around his muscles and over his skin, and now, when I finally had the chance to touch them, all of this damn clothing was in the way.
“Please,” I begged, because that seemed to be all I was capable of saying in that moment. “I need…please…”
I reached up and pushed at his leather vest, shoving it down his shoulders and off his body. He rolled off to the side and yanked his shirt off.
“Yes…” I sighed when he yanked his shirt out of the way, revealing his muscles and tattoos and deeply tanned skin beneath. I was pretty sure I would never breathe again. Eyes skimming over his amazing body, I could only bring myself to reach out and stroke all of those glorious acres of skin. To make it mine, finally.
Okay, sure, we had only known each other for a few days but it felt like I had wanted to do this for forever.
He lay back on the bed, gazing over at me, body open and willing to let me simply explore. I wanted to say thank you for giving me that chance to explore but words were beyond me and so I simply let my mouth and fingers say it instead.
Across his biceps, up his shoulders, down to his pecs - I followed each of his tattoos, tribal tattoos and mountains and a bear roaring on his back legs…that one wrapped around to his back and I wanted to keep exploring to see what else there was but I didn't want to give up all that was in reach. Instead, I moved over to his chest and began nibbling my way down, licking and flicking and squeezing as I went, tiny kisses, my tongue licking at his skin.
The groans coming out of him were music – music to my soul, to my enthusiasm, to my self-esteem. I hadn’t expected to know what to do in bed; I hadn’t believed that I could take charge like this.
But I had never expected Knight.
I helped him pull jeans off and then his boxer briefs and then, oh God, he was so hard and big in front of me and I looked down at the size of him and swallowed hard and he grinned just a little bit.
“You can touch it, you know,” he finally said when I made no move towards it. “He won't bite.”
I smiled at the “he” pronoun and then reached out, tentatively, and stroked it.
“How do I know how to make you happy?” I asked. I didn't know quite how to say it. I just wanted…to make him happy.
“Well, you're off to a good start,” he said and grinned at me. I grinned back, a little bit of my nervousness starting to melt away.
“If you wrap your fingers around my dick a little tighter…oh…” His eyes rolled back in his head with pleasure. “Yes, that. That right there, up and down and…”
He let his voice trail off as he closed his eyes with pleasure. He seemed incapable of talking, which I took as a good sign. Trying to adjust my grip and my speed, watching his face closely, I started to realize that this wasn’t as daunting and overwhelming and well…scary as I had always thought it would be.
My mom had said that sex made you do stupid things and at that very moment, I wasn’t sure if I disagreed with that statement or if I just fucking didn’t care. Either way, I was damn sure that what my mother had forgot to say was that sex made you deliriously, stupidly happy.
With a groan, Knight rolled over and pinned me beneath him.
“You can’t keep doing that to me or this will all end way too soon. And anyway, I think it’s about time that I get to have some fun.”
I looked up at him mischievously and said, “Have all the fun you want.”
“I believe I will.”
16
Knight
It was the next day, as she was working on the background of the art mural, that I broached the subject. I had been watching her bend over, running her brush over the wall in broad strokes, and had wanted nothing more than to take her into the bedroom and fuck her again.
Again and again and again.
For the first time in my life, I just couldn’t seem to get enough of a woman. The women that hung around the club had been so interchangeable that I had stopped even caring about one woman over another. They were nothing but a good lay, and sometimes not even that.
I never went as far as the old Dead Legion’s president, Ghost, of course – I had never used the drugs that Ghost used to distribute as bribes or coercion for women to fuck me. I never understood the desire to sleep with someone who was completely whacked out of their mind on drugs. What was the fun in that?
But Leia…she was what I had always wanted but had never allowed myself to dare to dream I could have.
“You know,” I said, trying hard to act cool to act; to act as if this wasn’t the most terrifying thing I had ever asked a woman. Or asked anyone. “I don't see any reason for us to keep going back every night to the motel. At least until we have the Sangre caught, why don’t you just come stay with me here? That would save you quite a bit on money and plus, my bed is so much more comfortable.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her and she laughed and I loved the sound so goddamn much, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to fuck her again and again and again, or make her laugh until her belly ached.
Well, my cock knew which one I should do.
She stood up, paintbrush in hand, and bit her lip, contemplating the idea. “Are you sure? I mean, you just met me last week. I could be a serial killer, you know.” She pointed the brush at me in what she probably thought was a menacing manner, and I couldn’t restrain my laugh. With a paint dollop on the end of her nose and several streaks in her hair, she couldn’t look less threatening if she tried.
“I’ll take my chances,” I said drily, and then paused for a moment. Before Leia, how would I have said that? I never would’ve wanted to say the word “take.”
Hell, before Leia, I wouldn’t have wanted to invite a woman to come live with me, so I guess I wouldn’t be having this conversation at all!
Still, I couldn’t stop marveling at the idea that this gorgeous woman in front of me had somehow turned into my speaking talisman.
“Well,” she said slowly, drawing my wandering attention back to her, “I suppose it isn’t permanent, right? I can move in here just until the Sangre are caught. It does make more sense than me renting a motel room, since we’re spending the night together anyway.”
It isn’t permanent, right?
No, of course it wasn’t permanent. I hadn’t asked her to marry me. I had just asked her to move in with me, and maybe I had been hoping to keep my talisman around for longer than just the next week or two. Maybe I had wanted a lot more than
she did.
Maybe, I was a fool.
“Exactly,” I said, my face a mask. I had to stay cool. I had to stay disconnected.
Goddammit, I had to treat Leia like a sheep, and nothing more. Not an artistic, funny, gorgeous woman, but a sheep.
A good lay.
A good fuck.
Nothing more
“Going out f-f-for a ride.”
My speech talisman was failing m; I couldn’t even get my fucking F’s out.
I didn’t wait for her to respond, but just left.
It was time to go ride. Clear my head.
And figure out what the fuck I was doing.
17
Leia
I stood with my paintbrush in my hand, staring at the front door, the slamming of it reverberating through my skull. He’d been so happy and friendly and outgoing and oh God, he’d wanted me to move in with him, and then…
And then what happened? I didn’t even know. I was just staring at the door and the paint was dripping off my brush and I didn’t know what to do or how to fix the mess I had just caused or what I had even done to cause it. Which would probably be useful in figuring out how to fix it, if I was going to be logical about it.
I carefully placed my paintbrush on the tray, trying to keep from spilling yet more paint. This wasn’t my first rodeo - the first thing I had done was put down a large tarp on the floor before starting painting - but still, paint going everywhere wasn’t a real good idea.
I went into the kitchen to grab some paper towels while I replayed the conversation in my mind.
I played my words frontwards and backwards, pulling them apart and putting them back together again, trying to figure out how I had fucked up, scrubbing at the tarp with my soggy paper towels, smearing the paint around, my vision getting smeary too and I realized I was crying.
I stopped, leaned back on my heels, and breathed in deeply. I had to calm down. There was no use crying over spilled…paint.
