"What's that, Rye?"
"It extends beyond the grave you fucking backstabber," I yelled, charging suddenly and sending us both flying to the ground. My hand grabbed his wrist, squeezing until I heard a crunching sound that was a sick sort of music to my ears. I grabbed the knife out of his useless hand as I straddled his center. "Is this the same knife?" I asked, knowing it was. The bastard was oddly attached to his pocket knife. His father had given it to him on his thirteenth birthday. "Say it!"
Wayne's face twisted. "Yeah, that's the knife I plunged into your uncle's heart when he told me that he was moving you into second when you turned eighteen. Same knife I carved into your face, boy. See, Seth was made for leadership. Until your ass showed up and softened him. Me and the men, we'd been seeing it for years. We'd been planning on pushing him out. We'd come over that night to talk to him about stepping down. But then he pulled that shit about forcing me down a peg and pushing you in my place. And, well, me and the boys, we had no patience for that shit."
All of them.
All of his men had turned their backs on him, had been plotting his demise.
Then all of them had taken a part in his murder.
And then my beating.
No fucking wonder I'd had so much damage.
I felt an odd calmness settling over me as I looked at the knife, twirling it in my hand, imagining my uncle's blood all over the blade, my own blood mingled with it.
"Give it up, Rye," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You ain't never spilled blood beyond a busted nose in your life. You aren't going to use that on me."
He was right about one thing and wrong about the other.
It was true I'd never stabbed or shot anyone before. I had never needed anything more than my fists.
But I'd also never needed to avenge the death of the only decent man I'd ever known.
So I was, abso-fucking-lutely going to use the son of a bitch's knife on him.
Then I did, pulling back and stabbing the blade into his heart like he had done to my uncle, then pulling it out and slicing it down his cheek like he had done to me. And then I sat there, watching as he choked on his own blood, watching his chest hitch in the same unnatural way my uncle's had for a long couple of minutes before he died.
Hell, his body was almost exactly in the same spot Seth's had been when he'd died.
I got up, washed my hands, tucked the pocketknife into a bag along with whatever shit I could, including a huge supply of cash Seth kept to pay his suppliers then stored it in my uncle's piece of shit, only half restored Chevy Chevelle.
But I didn't leave. Not yet. Oh, no.
Because Wayne wasn't the only man who needed to pay.
They all did.
That night, briefly, I stopped being me.
All the grief, the love, the betrayal, it swirled together until it became a bigger part of me than I was anymore.
That night I took off on foot and I exacted revenge.
For my uncle.
For myself.
For the dead sense of loyalty inside me.
The second man got the same treatment as Wayne. The third got stabbed ten times as the rage started to surface. The next was missing the things he had used to betray my uncle with when I was done with him: his tongue, his hands, his balls. He'd died before I even got to the part where I was removing his body parts like a medical school cadaver. By the last man, I was pretty sure all that was left was a bloody pile of meat, nothing recognizable as even human anymore.
Done, dripping blood and reeking of death and sweat, I climbed in my uncle's car and I got the fuck out of the town I knew would only let me be the monster I had become that night instead of the man I knew I was underneath it all.
I got out of Detroit with a scar on my face and some dark marks on my soul that wouldn't let me sleep at night, images of my uncle taking his last breaths as he tried to warn me of the snakes in our grass and images of my hand shoving a knife into the heart of a man who had been family to me and watching him choke on his own blood, eyes popping out of sockets, tongues slicing off, insides becoming outsides, and death becoming nothing but sport were memories always sticking to the inside of my eyelids when I tried to close them. But I figured that was a fair penance to pay.
The Chevelle died on me in some shitty part of town in Jersey.
I figured it was fate, got a crummy apartment over a liquor store with the money I had, and started working at an auto body shop. That was how I met Cash. We hit it off. He brought me around the club. Reign gave me a nod when I showed interest in being a prospect. From there, it was all history. I had a new family. I had men who were loyal to death and beyond.
The day I got patched-in was the day I went to the tattoo shop and got my back piece started- the snake and the obnoxious, ostentatious gilded pocketknife stabbed through his head. As soon as I could, I got the quote as well, forever marking myself, reminding myself that there was nothing in life more important than loyalty.
Snakes and snitches get it where they slither.
So when Reign gave me an assignment, I did what I was fucking told, no questions, no hesitations, no lip.
It wasn't an option to not do it.
There was no choice.
I didn't tell Maze that though.
"It's just how it is, honey," I said instead.
"I don't think I need to tell you how screwed up that is," she said, her voice still soft. "To not have a mind of your own. That's so messed up."
"Maze..." I said, my tone begging her to understand. "Look at me," I demanded when she just kept looking at her feet. She had too much pride to keep her eyes averted. She sucked in a slow breath and turned her head.
"What now?"
I watched as my hand rose and reached out to her, stroking down the slightly sun-burnt skin under her eyes. Her eyes closed for a second as her breath rushed out of her. I wasn't stupid. Maze wanted me. When I had fucked up and kissed her in the kitchen, she had been just as needy and lost in it as I had been. The only reason it stopped was because I stopped it and when I moved away from her, her legs weren't strong enough to hold her weight.
I exhaled, my gut twisting as I knew I was crossing a line, as one of my hands went to her hip to steady her and the other grabbed her under her knee so I could lift it and move it to the other side of the limb we were sitting on, so she was straddling it facing me. Her hazel eyes went to my face, her brows drawn together as my other hand went to her hip as well and I used them to pull her toward me. My fingers traced down her thighs to her knees again, lifting them enough to drape them over mine so I could pull her against me.
She didn't pull away. She didn't flinch.
"Now this," I said, my voice soft as my hands went to frame her face as I lowered my head toward hers.
"You're breaking the rules," she whispered, eyes still on mine.
"Fuck the rules."
Nine
Maze
The kiss in the kitchen had been rough, primal, demanding. But in the tree in the dark, our bodies illuminated only by the moon and stars and serenaded by crickets and the distant thrum of rock music from the party, his lips landed on mine soft, so soft that I felt my belly flutter hard for a moment at the contact. My eyes closed, my hands moved up and out and twisted into the material of his tee. My legs tensed over his, pulling me closer until my pelvis pressed against his. Finding him hard against me, a small moan escaped my lips.
His hands slipped from my face, sliding down my back until his palms landed high on my ass, using it to drag me upward onto his lap so his cock pressed against my sex. My legs tightened around his hips as I dragged myself against him, trying to ease the sudden and overpowering heaviness in my lower stomach. Repo grunted against my lips as I stroked him again before his teeth nipped into my lip hard and he pulled backward.
I made some sort of whiny noise in my throat that had him chuckling gently. "Honey, we'll fall out of this fucking tree if we keep
it up," he murmured, brushing my hair behind my ear then trailing his nose up the column of my neck before planting a kiss just below my ear.
"Worth the risk," I said, turning my face down and into his neck to bite into the skin hard enough to smart.
"Be kinda hard to explain why we both broke our legs," he said, still sounding amused. I heard myself grumble again, sliding off his lap, so turned on it was practically painful.
"Fine," I said, ducking my head and moving away from him, trying like hell to ignore the insistent throbbing between my legs.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Repo's legs move out toward the front of the tree limb. A second later, he was swinging himself down to the ground, landing into a squat before turning back to face me, arms up in the air.
"What?" I asked, shaking my head at him.
"Come on. I got you."
At that, I felt a smile pull at my lips. "Um... no."
"I'll catch ya, Maze. I promise."
"Yeah... no."
He sighed but didn't drop his hands. "Come on honey, you got to learn to trust someone sometime."
"Yeah except I always end up trusting the wrong people," I admitted before I could think to censor myself.
His head tilted to the side. "So a couple jackasses fucked you over. You can't use that as an excuse to never trust someone again, Maze. Take a leap of faith. I'll catch you."
"And be in the perfect position to drop me on my ass," I said quietly to myself, knowing it was the truth. But I took a breath and pushed off the tree, enjoying the dropping sensation in my stomach as I free fell for a few seconds before Repo's arms closed around me, holding me up against his chest so his face was just barely above my breasts.
"Was that so hard?" he asked, smiling up at me and I had that feeling I felt a couple weeks ago: he was trouble. He was so, so much trouble.
"So what now? Are we just gonna stand here all night?"
"Now we get to remember what it's like to be teenagers," he said, his hands suddenly releasing me, making me automatically slam my hands down on his shoulders to keep from crashing down on unsteady legs. But his arms just went under my ass, forcing my legs around his hips. With that, he led us several yards back toward the party. My heart started pounding frantically in my chest the the idea of being seen. "Relax honey," he murmured and then I felt his hands squeeze my ass then drop it. I dropped my feet to the ground and turned.
"Seriously?" I asked, smiling at the car he had been working on for weeks.
"Hop in," he said, rocking back on his heels, hands tucked into his front pockets, looking very much like a teenager trying to talk a girl into his backseat.
"Oh, gee, I don't know. I have a curfew," I said, looking up at him from under my lashes. "And I don't know what you heard, but... I'm a good girl," I teased.
A wicked little smile toyed at his lips. "Come on, it'll just be our little secret," he grinned.
"Really, I'm..." I started, but before I could finish speaking, he came at me, pinning my back against the car with his chest as his hand moved between us, slipping between my thighs and pressing hard against my sex, dragging out an unexpected moan.
"What was that about a curfew?"
I pulled in a breath, my hand curling into his shirt near the waist of his jeans. "Really I..." his fingers curved in, hitting my clit with perfect pressure and making me face plant against his chest.
"Get in the car, Maze," he commanded softly, doing one more stroke before pushing away from me and reaching to open the door.
And, well, with a tingling between my legs and a shaky feeling in my belly, I turned, ducked behind the front seat and fell into the back. "Ow, fuck," I yelled, something stabbing into my side.
Repo chuckled as I straightened, pointing to the metal seatbelt receiver. He reached out, rubbing my side where it had stabbed me. "Forgot how problematic cars can be."
"Spent a lot of time in back seats, huh?" I teased, trying to ignore the fact that his incredibly chaste touch was sending off tiny sparks of desire through my system.
He gave me a sheepish little smile. "Kinda cramps your style to try to bring a chick home to your uncle's apartment, ya know?"
"Why doesn't it surprise me that you were charming even as a teenager?"
His head tilted as he planted one hand beside my hip, leaning over my body, as his other hand slid down my side and sank into my hip. "Think I'm charming, huh?"
"Oh please," I said, rolling my eyes. "You do that eye-dancing thing and the panties get flung across the room."
"The... eye-dancing thing?" he asked with a confused smile, completely unaware that he was doing the eye-dancing thing right then.
"Yeah," I said, feeling my cheeks warm a little, embarrassed by the admission.
"My eyes dance?"
"Sometimes," I shrugged.
"And this... pantie-flinging thing," he said, his hand on my hip moving up toward the waistband of my pants and slipping in slightly to toy with the band of my panties. His fingertip slid under and stroked across the lowest part of my pelvis. "When they get... flung... out of curiosity, are the panties going to have pink and purple hearts all over them again?" His lips twitched as he tried to hold back a smile. "Gotta say... pink and purple hearts just scream outlaw biker..."
"Shut up," I laughed, swatting his chest. "You're killing the mood."
"Am I?" he asked, brows drawing together, suddenly seeming all-business. "You sure about that?"
"Pretty damn sure."
"Really? Huh, then why..." he started, and before I could realize his intention, his hand moved completely inside my panties, stroking up my slit and making my whole body jerk back, hitting the side of the car in surprise, "is your pussy still wet for me?"
"Must be..." I started to try to make some witty comeback, but his fingers promptly slid up and started working over my clit, the motion small and hard, my still-fastened jeans limiting motion.
"Must be what?" he asked, eyes getting heavy as I let out a small whimper. I shook my head at him, my hand curling into the sleeve of his tee. "Lie back, honey," he commanded softly. I slid back on the leather as he towered over me, one knee between my open thighs, the other at the edge of the cushions. He pushed up and used his other hand to finally unfasten and unzip my pants. His thumb moved out to work my clit as his other fingers slid a path downward, pausing at the opening to my body and pulsing his fingers there until my hips were rising up, begging for him to sink inside. The tip of one finger did, just the smallest bit for a long minute before plunging all the way in.
Then he was done teasing, his finger thrusting for a couple of strokes before turning and scraping up against the top wall and hitting my G-spot with the same relentless precision as he was working my clit.
My free hand moved to the collar of his shirt, using it to pull him down toward me and claiming his lips as my own as his fingers drove me up hard and fast, making every inch of my skin feel electric. The pressure in my lower stomach felt almost oppressive as my hips rose upward to meet his touch, begging for release. His tongue slipped inside to claim mine as my greedy hands roamed his body, stroking up his arms, up under his shirt to feel the strong muscles of his back, stomach, and chest, before moving around and back down, grabbing his ass.
"Fuck," he groaned, releasing my lips and letting his forehead rest on mine. "You're killing me, Maze," he murmured, his voice thick and when he shifted his weight, I could feel his cock press into my thigh. "Come," he demanded as my breath got caught in my chest, feeling my sex clench tight around his fingers as my orgasm threatened to break. "Come honey," he demanded again, running his nose down the length of mine to take my lips gently as his fingers did another sweep of my clit and G-spot and I cried out my climax against his lips, my body jolting upward as I dragged his down, a tremor running through me as the waves of pleasure crashed hard and constant.
When I was spent, relaxing against the seat, his finger stayed inside me, his palm flattening
against me, refusing to let go of the intimacy. My hands went to the sides of his face, holding him to me as he kissed me slow and deep until I could feel it through my entire system, until all there was in the world was the two of us.
"Repo where the fuck are you?" Reign's voice called, making my entire body stiffen as I pushed his face from mine. The sound was still from a distance, but I was sure it was getting closer.
"It's okay," Repo murmured, no doubt taking in my huge eyes. Hell, they felt like they were popping out of my skull.
"It's not o-fucking-kay," I whisper-yelled, pushing hard at his chest until he rose off of me. His finger slipped out of me then out of my panties and I had the almost overwhelming urge to cry over the loss of the intimacy. But through the want, the desire, the urge to continue what we had started, my survival instincts kicked in. Reign couldn't find out about us. Repo would probably get a slap on the back and I would be out on my ass. That couldn't happen. If that happened...
"Christ," Repo said, drawing my attention. He was looking down at me. In the dark, it was hard to make him out entirely, but there seemed to be a tightness around his eyes that I took for either frustration or anger. His air sighed out of him and he moved completely off of me. "Fine," he said, shoving the front seat forward so he could slip out, then slamming the door so hard behind him that I actually jumped with a quiet yelp.
So yeah... angry or frustrated or both.
I flattened myself further against the seat, still childishly worried someone would come up and look in. I listened to the sound of conversation for a second before it started to fade as they moved away. I put my hand over my hammering heart and pressed my knees tightly together, still feeling the tingling aftermath of my orgasm.
And the first clear thought that crossed my mind after the panic wore away, was: shit.
Shitshitshit.
I stayed there a long couple of minutes, deep-breathing before finally zipping my pants back up and climbing out of the car. I made my way back to the party with weighted feet.
"Violet!" Renny's voice called and I slowed my pace when I saw him running toward me.
Repo (The Henchmen MC Book 4) Page 9
