by Deja Voss
“Can we go see him now?” Esther asks. “Or do you want us to swim for you for a little bit?”
“I do love watching you swim laps, Esther. It reminds me of a young version of myself. Very surrealistic. But Joe has a lunch meeting, so I’ll just take you to him.”
I don’t know how Esther does this with a straight face.
“Who’s the young man, by the way?” she asks. “He’s not Red or Tank. Are they ok?”
“They’re fine; don’t worry.”
“He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?” she asks. “I can tell by the way his eyes haven’t left your body. It’s very romantic.”
Morgan starts laughing loudly, and Esther elbows her in the stomach.
“It’s not going to be a problem, I promise you, Mrs. Salazar.”
“I know, Esther,” she says, grabbing her by the hand as we walk through the giant mansion. “You’ve been so good to us over the years. I trust your judgement. You’re a very lucky man,” she says to me, looking over her shoulder. “You better treat her right.”
“He’s in the den, reading the newspaper,” the woman says, rolling open the big hardwood door. I don’t know if she’s here to have sex with him or if these people are going to make us milk and cookies and tell us stories about the Great Depression. It’s a mind fuck.
“Esther!” Joe Salazar says, looking up from his newspaper with a smile on his face. He has to be twenty years younger than his wife, a balding fat man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and sandals with socks. Nothing about him looks like a tough illegal weapons dealer, and that’s why he scares me. He looks like a nerd. These people don’t get their hands dirty. The kind of hurt these people can do is beyond my comprehension. I can see why Esther wanted me to tread lightly.
“Hi, Joe,” she says, standing in front of him. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You know I always love a visit from you, girl.” He winks, running his hand up the outside of her thigh. She brushes it away casually and I feel my stomach turn. I’m not gonna let this guy touch my woman, but she’s in charge here. What she says goes.
“I brought you something I think you’ll love,” she says.
“I see that,” he says with a deep chuckle. “Where’d you find this one?”
“She’s a new trainee. I figured you’d be the perfect guy to help me break her in.” She takes Morgan by the hand and presents her to Joe. “Turn around, love,” she says, like she’s showing her off for a pageant or something.
“Very nice,” he says. “You have good taste, Esther. What do they call you, woman?”
“Morgan,” she says, barely lifting her head. I don’t know what Esther did to get inside her, but it’s working. Usually Morgan is basically foaming at the mouth, dying to talk over anyone, desperate to be the center of attention. Now that she is the center of everyone’s attention, though, I think it’s knocked her down a couple pegs. The reality of what Esther really does is sinking in to both of us.
“Do you want to take off your dress for me, Morgan?” Salazar asks. Esther nods to her in encouragement.
“Sure,” she says, a tremble in her voice. At least the man had the decency to ask. Most of the guys Morgan usually runs around with just take what they want. She pulls off the red dress over her head, standing in front of him in nothing but a pair of high heels and a thong.
“And you, Esther?” Joe asks.
“I just want to watch for a little bit,” she says, walking behind him in the chair, putting her hands on his shoulders and massaging them. “It’s kind of a thing I have,” she says, winking at me.
“I don’t hate the sound of that,” he laughs.
She’s smiling at me, making faces like she’s going to throw up from behind his back. I just put my hands in my pocket and lean up against the bookshelf, my eyes glued to her. Watching her work is actually more of a turn on than I thought it would be, especially knowing that she’s playing these two people like puppets. She’s powerful. She’s a queen. And she is doing all of this for me.
CHAPTER 25
Esther:
I have to admit, this is the most fun visit I’ve had to the Salazar estate. Watching Brooks squirm in the corner while he tries not to look at Morgan, kneeling on the floor between Salazar’s legs with his cock in her mouth. I’m massaging his shoulders, but hey, I packed enough hand sanitizer in my bag to take a bath in it once I get my job done and we get the hell out of here. I’ve got everyone in this room exactly where I want them, and now it’s time to get to work.
“What do you want, Esther?” he asks, trying to sound like he’s in control of the situation. He’s repulsive as usual to me, between those beady eyes of his and his weird wife, something about being around Salazar makes me feel like I’m just a play thing. It makes me uncomfortable. Not today though. Today, I know exactly who’s in charge. “I highly doubt you just dropped by to… oh, fuck,” he moans. Morgan must be doing a decent enough job, because he can barely keep his sentences together.
“You’re right. But you already know why I’m here. You don’t have to play dumb with me, Joe. You’re a very smart man. That’s why I like you so much. Do you think I’d let just anyone handle one of my girls like that?” I graze my fingers over his balding head and he squeals like a hog. “I need guns, Joe.”
“You know the deal, Esther. I’ll happily sell you and your club guns. You’re great customers.”
“I need guns on credit, Joe,” I say sternly. “I kinda got us in a bind. You don’t want the bad men to hurt me, do you?”
“I don’t care what the fuck anyone does to you when you’re not in my home,” he barks.
“Morgan,” I scold. “Get up off that floor, girl.”
“No, don’t do that,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. You know how it is. I just get carried away. You stay right there.” She looks up at me, ready for her next cue, and I just nod to her.
“I can get you paid next week. I promise. The deal is already done.”
“Fine, but the girl stays as collateral,” he says.
“Joe…” I say, my morals getting the best of me. “She’s not mine to give. She’s a human being.”
“Oh come on,” he whines. “Seven guns, and this beauty stays here for seven days. You know I’ll treat her like a princess. No expenses spared.”
“Seven guns?” I laugh. “I wouldn’t even lend you my father for seven guns. Girl, put your clothes on.”
“Hold on,” he says. Morgan is standing in front of him, not even breathing. He runs his fingers up her thighs, cresting her shaved mound.
“Seventy,” I hiss. “Otherwise, hands off the goods.”
“You wanna stay with Uncle Joe for a couple days?” he asks her.
“She gets her own room,” I say. “And if there’s so much as a mark on her body when I get her back, I’ll personally chop your dick off and feed it to my pet cat. She gets access to her cellphone any time she wants, and I expect a call morning and night from her. The minute I don’t hear from her right on time, me and the boys are gonna turn your fucking home upside down. Does that sound like a plan, Morgan?”
“Well…” she says, straddling his lap. “Will you buy me a Louis Vuitton bag, Uncle Joe?” I roll my eyes at her. Hard. So much for doing a good job. Shit, I’d buy her a whole luggage set if she kept her mouth shut. I guess it’s just another reason why this has always been my job. I don’t want anything from these men but to preserve my club. She wants a purse.
“You and my wife can go out shopping tomorrow if you want,” he says. “Whatever you want.” Her eyes light up with greed and she kisses him on the lips.
“I’m serious,” I say, digging my fingers into his back a little harder than before. “Don’t fucking hurt her. Gavin’s coming down with the truck tomorrow. I expect everything packed up and ready to go.”
“I know he won’t,” she says. “I think Uncle Joe and I are going to have a real good time.”
“You can go, Esther,” he says, waving me off. “Unless
you wanna make this a ménage. In that case, there’s plenty to go around.” I choke back the vomit pooling in my throat. I grab Morgan’s face and give her a kiss on the lips for dramatics.
“You call me tonight before you go to bed,” I say. “You call me the second you want to leave. You promise?”
She just nods at me. Mission accomplished. Kind of. There are pangs of guilt welling up inside me, dragging her into this situation, no matter how oblivious she seems to be to the fact that she’s going to be bought and paid for for the next week.
“Get out of here, Esther,” she says. “I want to show Joe what he’s been missing out on all this time.”
I straighten my dress and make my way towards the door, motioning for Brooks to follow me.
“That was kind of hot,” he says, resting his fingers on the small of my back. “I kind of want to kiss you right now.”
“Let me get outside and wash my mouth out with gasoline first,” I warn him, laughing. “I’ll just syphon it straight from the tank on my bike.” I grab him by the hand and squeeze it, so glad that we survived this potential road block of our relationship intact.
“Goodbye, Mrs. Salazar,” I say as we head to the front door. “I hope you don’t mind company for a few days.”
“Why don’t you ever stay with us, Esther?” she asks. “You know you’re always more than welcome.” Of course I’m aware of that. They’ve been begging me since day one. But that’s not what I want from any of this. I don’t want a sugar daddy. I don’t want a life of luxury. I don’t want to pretend like I’m attracted to some man so that he lines my wallet. I want my club to be safe, my men to be safe. I want my crew to thrive. I’m not a sellout.
“You’re too kind. I need to get home, though. Thank you so much, Mrs. Salazar.” I hug her warmly. The woman is a weirdo, but when you get to a point in your life where you’re that rich, it’s almost excusable. I don’t know why, but I kind of feel for her. I don’t want to stand here any longer though. There’s only one thing I really want to do. “Do you care if I leave my bike here tonight?” I ask her.
“Not at all,” she says.
“I’ll have Gavin throw it on the trailer tomorrow.”
Brooks looks like a kid on Christmas morning. I should know; we spent every Christmas together growing up. Even all bearded and tatted and ripped, his eyes don’t lie.
“You care if I ride with you?” I ask him.
His smile says it all. This will be the first time that we did this together. It’s like sealing a deal; it’s making things official.
“You know we still have the hotel for another few days,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“I wanna go home, Brooks. I want to go back where we belong.”
I grab my backpack from my bike and pull out some jeans and a t-shirt, changing in the middle of the parking lot. It feels so good to be out of all-powerful Esther mode as I slide into my leather boots.
“God, you’re so pretty,” he laughs. “I’m totally gonna kiss you now.” He puts his lips to mine, and I’ve never felt so right in my life. Obviously we just put a Band-Aid on my predicament, but it worked. Maybe Band-Aids are the best solution right now. Maybe we can just patch things together until we’re both whole again. “You wanna go back to the hotel and get our stuff?”
“We’ll let Gavin worry about it tomorrow. It’s fight night tonight. We’ll have the whole mountain to ourselves,” I wink. “You think she’s gonna be ok?”
“I think you just fulfilled her ultimate fantasy. She’s probably going to write you a thank-you note. Is that how it always goes? Do these men always offer to move you in, give you everything you could possibly want for, spend the rest of their lives buying your love?”
“Yes,” I say. “They’re all the same.”
“And you never took any of them up on that offer?”
I guess it sounds kind of ridiculous. I could’ve had it made a long time ago. Instead, I live in a trailer with my cat and work in a bar. My life is really modest. “The thought never crossed my mind,” I tell him. “The only thing I want for is my club to be safe and to spend the rest of my days with the people I love.” The way he’s tracing the palm of my hand with his thumb makes me feel like he gets it. I hope he gets it.
“Well,” he says with a shrug, “mount up, old gal.”
“Old gal?” I ask quizzically, putting on my helmet.
“Old lady?”
“How ’bout just old Esther for now,” I say, wrapping my arms around him tight, resting my chest on his back like I’ve longed to for all these years. Old Esther. Old Esther before the chaos. Before the sadness. Old Esther and Old Brooks finally right where they belong.
CHAPTER 26
Brooks:
T his ride is the one I’ve been waiting my whole life for. Sure, going off to war with the boys is thrilling enough. But this is a different kind of thrilling, and it’s actually a whole lot scarier than showing up for a raid or going on pick up duty. Slapping some petty criminals around, selling drugs, hell even watching a man take his last breath is nothing like knowing that I have my soulmate right where she belongs.
The fear that this is temporary. That even though things went perfectly today, it wasn’t a solution. It only made more problems. Still, watching her handle her business, watching her take charge of these people and put all her cards on the table for the club made me hard as a rock. It opened my eyes to the fact that what she does for the club is really something that none of us guys are capable of. It’s not about getting screwed for guns or money. It’s about truly fucking these men. Fucking with their minds until they concede.
So much stuff to unpack on this ride, when all I want to do is just enjoy having her pressed up against me. Every chance I get, I check her out in my side mirror. I have to make sure it’s really her here with me as we wind through the mountains of Pennsylvania. Every stop sign, I just need to touch her hand, every gas station we stop at, I need to feel her lips. It’s taking everything in me not to just pull over and take her in the bushes somewhere, push myself inside of her just for an excuse to be even closer to her. The woman wants to go home though, and that’s where I’ll take her.
It makes me respect her all the more, knowing that she’s had so many chances to leave us behind for a life of ease. Not that I ever didn’t respect her. She’s always been the best and most gorgeous woman in my eyes. It didn’t hit me until today that other men see it too. Not just her body. Her mind. Her essence. Everything about her. Everyone wants a piece of that.
But the only people who get it are the Misfits. And we have been way to oblivious of that gift for too long. None of us could go in there and do what she did today. Not by our force or even our words. And now she’s coming home with me.
The fact that she just traded a woman for guns, well, that just proves that she’s just the right kind of crazy for me. And now I’m fighting with an erection that just won’t quit on this long ride home.
It’s dark by the time we hit the clubhouse, and nobody is around. Everyone’s downtown at Gavin’s bar for fight night, and the silence is almost eerie. The only light on in the mansion is in Moses’ room, and even though I think I see a shadow in the window, I figure I’m just getting tired after the long weekend.
“You wanna go to your place?” I ask her as I idle in the parking lot.
“Can we go to your house?” she asks. I get it. Even though we’re getting to a point of good, my bike parked in her driveway might be taking things a little too far right now. I want to tell the world what we have, though. I’m ready to face the music and do whatever it takes to fight for her.
“You worried someone will see?” I ask her.
“Not at all,” she says, smiling at me in the mirror. “I just don’t feel like cleaning up broken glass tonight. I might have gotten a little bit heavy-handed with the baseball bat after the meeting the other day.” She is truly one of us through and through.
“Is old Gingerbread alright?” I ask.
“He’s staying at Gavin’s house this weekend. I was hoping he’d shit all over their house.”
“That’s my girl,” I laugh as we head down the road to my house. On my bike. Like we’re a normal happy couple. Like this is how it’s going to be, and it’s going to be so easy. Like it always should have been.
“ARE YOU HUNGRY?” I ask her, as she comes down my steps in a big gray t-shirt and a pair of my boxer briefs, her hair wet. It’s taken all I have to keep my hands off her since the minute we walked through the door, but it’s been a long day for both of us. I figured I’d let her shower and nap a little before I started harassing her.
“I’m starving. Did you make me dinner?”
“I did,” I say. I’m even a little impressed with myself. Dad’s old recipe. One that I know she used to love back in the day. She opens up the oven door and laughs.
“No,” she says, smiling at me. “I haven’t had tater tot tacos since, shit, probably…”
“Before my dad died?” I ask. “You can say it. It happened. He did make this all the time though.”
“Yeah, well, all us kids loved it.”
“You think it’ll be as good as when he made it?” I ask.
“You got ranch dressing?” she asks. God, she’s adorable.
“Earlier today, you were wearing an evening gown and waltzing through Salazar’s mansion like you owned the place. Now you want tater tots covered in ranch dressing? You’re a real puzzle, Esther.” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me on the lips.
“I know what I like.”
Her hair smells like my shampoo, but mixed with the sweetness of her. It’s cute, but weird. I grab her firm ass in my hands and set her up on the countertop.
“I know what I like, too,” I whisper in her ear. “I like you in a lot less clothes than you have on right now.” I peel off her t-shirt and toss it to the side, the sight of her breasts stirring my dick to hardness almost immediately. I like when I kiss her nipples and she starts to moan. I like when I can feel the heat from her pussy as I trail my hand down her stomach. I like how she can be the bossiest bitch in town, but with me, she lets herself go. With me, she lets me do what I know how to do best.
