Lucky Bastards (Grim Bastards MC)

by Emily Minton

  The club has been full to the rafters all day, celebrating the Fourth of July and Trix’s return to the clubhouse. The old ladies made more food than we could eat and we have more cold beer than a fleet of sailors could drink. We even shot off a shitload of fireworks, making sure the kids had just as much fun as the adults. Brothers from all four of our charter clubs are here and most have brought their families. Now that it’s edging up on midnight, most of the old ladies and all the kids have gone home. The place is still full of brothers wanting to party, wanting to do it in a way that is not exactly kid-friendly.

  Everyone is smiling huge, not realizing the club is on the edge of the abyss. They don’t realize how close we are to losing everything. Just the thought of the disappointment they will feel when they find out has my stomach churning. It isn’t just the money. It’s the loss of faith. They will all lose their ability to trust Boz and trust the brotherhood if we can’t deliver their monthly pay.

  “It was good seeing Trix back at the club,” Hack says, sitting to my right. “Pru was worried she wouldn’t show up.”

  I look across the room, seeing Trix standing near the hallway, encircled within Boz’s arms. They are whispering to each other, seemingly alone even though they are surrounded by people. They have been in his room most of the night, only making a few trips out to eat and watch the fireworks with their kids. When they did come out, both of them had smiles on their faces. Still, I could see the weariness in their eyes. They are both tired as fuck, tired of spending every minute of every day fighting just to keep Trix alive. Now, Boz has to add all this club shit onto his list of worries.

  Parker leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “She’s looking better.”

  Better, I hate that fucking word. There is nothing better about my Pres’s old lady. The vivacious woman that I have grown to love as a sister is not better, not even a little bit. She is sick, really fucking sick. The shit they are pumping into her body to cure that illness is just making it worse. I hope, fucking pray, that it gets better with time. But right now, it’s really damn bad. My eyes go to Smoke, where he is sitting across from me. As soon as I see the look in his eyes, I know he is thinking the same thing.

  Not wanting to spend another minute thinking of Trix’s cancer, I grab the bottle and pour myself another shot. I down it and then repeat the process twice more. It only takes a minute or two for the liquid to warm my insides. Considering all the beer I’ve drunk today, a few more shots and I will be toast.

  Smoke reaches over, pulling the bottle his way and says, “I spent all damn day fighting with Gidget. She wanted to shave her head too.”

  “Pru tried the same shit, but I shut her down,” Hack adds, pulling a joint out of his pocket and bringing it to his lips. “No damn way was I letting her shave her head.”

  Reaching up, I run my hand over my bald head, still surprised at the way it feels. When Boz showed up at the clubhouse with a shaved head and a pair of clippers, he didn’t even have to ask if his brothers were willing to shave their heads. Each one of us lined up, wanting to do anything we could to support Trix. As soon as she lost her hair, I knew that I would be losing mine. Fuck, I would do anything to put a smile on her face.

  As much as I hate to even think about it, I wouldn’t fight Addy if she wanted to get her head shaved. My woman loves Trix, and she would do anything for her. If she feels she needs to cut off all her hair to support her best friend, I’ll take the clippers to her myself. Luckily, she hasn’t mentioned it yet.

  Just thinking about my woman has my alcohol hazed eyes scanning the common room. I can’t stop a crooked smile from spreading across my face when I see her playing pool with one of the prospects. Luckily, my kids went home with Lettie tonight, so my old lady is here. Soon, I will be taking her up to my room and the real fun will get started. Just looking at her, my cock stirs to life. Addy’s thick red hair is laying in waves, reaching halfway down her back. It swings from side to side every time she takes a step. I watch the movements, imagining the locks tangling around my fingers as I fuck her. She’ll be on her knees, rocking into my every thrust as I pound into her tight pussy.

  “I get it, Brew,” Parker says, shattering the erotic image in my mind. “Your old lady is hot, but I’d prefer not to have a front row seat to you eye fucking my Aunt Addy.”

  “When you have something that fine wearing your patch, you can’t help but eye fuck her every chance you get,” I reply with a cocky grin.

  Parker, Smoke’s oldest son, is currently wearing a prospect cut. He is making us all proud, to call him a Grim Bastard. No doubt, it won’t take long for him to earn his member patch. Then, he will shoot right up to officer status. I’m not exactly sure what position he will earn, but no doubt he will be helping run this club someday soon.

  “Believe me, I know,” he mumbles, his eyes locked on my woman’s ass.

  Reaching over, I slap the back of his head. “Eyes on me.”

  He instantly does as I say, a red flush lining his cheeks. The look in his eyes is one of pure embarrassment. Not exactly sure what he is ashamed about. It could be the fact that his Sergeant at Arms just caught him checking his old lady out, or it could be the fact he was just staring at the ass of a woman he calls aunt. To my way of thinking, either one is pretty fucking embarrassing.

  Before I can give him any shit over it, a club whore slides into his lap and plasters her lips to his. I immediately look away, feeling the urge to knock her away. At nineteen, I don’t really have the right to tell him what he can or cannot do with his dick. But after watching this kid grow up, it’s hard to keep my mouth shut.

  Before Addy, I had my fair share of club whores. Fuck, I had my fair share of women in general. I’m a biker; it’s what we do. Parker is going to do the same thing. Hell, he has been doing the same thing since he knew what his cock was meant for. Still, I don’t want to see that shit. To me, he is just a kid and probably always will be.

  “Either get a room or get the bitch off your lap,” Smoke growls, obviously feeling the same way. “I’m not really up for watching my boy get his rocks off.”

  A chuckle passes my lips as I reach across the table and take the joint Hack is passing my way. Bringing it to my lips, I inhale deep and pass it to Smoke. Holding it as long as my lungs will allow, my lips open and the smoke slowly pushes out.

  “I’m hitting the road,” Boz says, causing my eyes to pop open.

  My gaze goes to him, standing near my right shoulder. He looks to me, giving me a stare that lets me know he is more than ready to head home with his woman. Still, I can see something working behind his eyes. Something that tells me he is still working the club’s problems in his mind. He is trying to figure out what to do to fix shit, but like me, he still hasn’t figured out what in the hell he can do.

  A baggy full of weed flies in his direction as Hack says, “Tell her to smoke it as soon as she starts feeling nauseous. From what I’ve read, it will help more than anything the doctors will give her.”

  Boz gives us a nod and walks over to where Trix is standing near my woman. Addy must have given up her game to spend some time with her friend. I watch them until Boz and Trix start toward the door. When Addy turns to go back to the pool table, I let out a loud whistle and crook my finger at her. She lifts a brow to me and then heads my way.

  Coming to a stop in front of me, I reach up, grabbing her hand and pull her to me, sitting her in my lap. “Are you having a good time?”

  “It could be better,” she states, running her lips over my whisker covered chin. “You could take me to your room, and I could show you how much I like your new haircut.”

  Running my hand up her leg, I quickly agree. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  The instant she starts to move off my lap, my phone rings. Knowing it is going on midnight, my mind instantly goes to our youngest daughter. The two oldest won’t have any issues spending the night at Lettie’s with the other kids. Cam, being nearly fifteen, is fine as long as he
has his game system, and Lexie is happy as long as she has the other kids with her. Kaylee, on the other hand, doesn’t do all that well at sleepovers. At only four, she doesn’t like being away from Momma and Daddy for very long.

  I don’t even look at the phone as I bring it to my ear. “She okay?”

  Instead of hearing Lettie’s voice, it’s my aunt Joyce that says, “Isaac, honey, I need you to come home.”

  Just the sound of Aunt Joyce’s voice causes my heart to drop. She doesn’t call often, but she at least takes the time to stay in touch. She is the only one in the family that ever even attempts to contact me. If it was up to her, we would be as close as we were when I was just a kid. Back then, she was a lifeline for me. Her house was one of the few places I was allowed to be free from all the restrictions that my parents had set for me. I could get dirty, run wild, and be as loud as I wanted. Now, though, seeing or even just hearing her reminds me of all this shit my family has put me through. She is a part of my past, a good part, but still she is my past. Aunt Joyce is the only family still living that I claim, even if she reminds me of shit I’d rather forget.

  “That’s not gonna happen,” I say, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’ve already told you that I will never go back there.”

  “But, you have…” she starts, but I cut her off.

  “I have a life here,” I remind her, not really caring that something has to be wrong to have her calling this late. “You know I love you, but you need to understand that my old life means nothing to me now.”

  “Your father died tonight,” she states, not bothering to try to soften the news. “You may not care that he is gone, but I do. Right now, I need my favorite nephew by my side as I say goodbye to my brother. He may not have been a good man, but he was my brother.”

  It takes a second for her words to register. When they finally make sense, I toss the phone on the table and stand up. Laying my hand on Addy’s lower back, I lead her to my room. As soon as I step into the room, I pull her into my arms and bury my face in her hair.

  Running her hands up my back, she asks, “What’s wrong?”

  Taking in a deep breath, I say the only words that come to mind. “My fucking father is finally dead.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Addy

  Lying naked in bed, I cuddle into Brew’s side. He has been quiet ever since we got to his room. Without a word, he stripped us both down and pulled me into bed. Since then, he has kissed me, touched me, but never said one freaking word. My man is never silent, so this is worrying me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, knowing that my question is stupid.

  Through the years, Brew has told me all about his family. Like mine, it is screwed up. Well, that is putting it lightly. Both of our families our fucked up beyond repair. Both of our parents have done things that can never be forgiven. At least I had a sister I could depend on. Brew didn’t even have that.

  “I’m in bed with my old lady, so I’m more than good.” Brew pushes me to my back, coming to rest on top of me.

  “I know there’s no love lost between you and your dad,” I say as he nuzzles into my neck. “Still, his death has got to be hitting you hard.”

  He lifts his head just enough to look at me and then says, “I don’t give a fuck if that bastard is dead. I just hate that my aunt is going to have to deal with this shit on her own.”

  A gasp bubbles out of my throat as he bites down on my neck, but I ignore the pleasure and ask, “What do you mean? Are you talking about your aunt Joyce?”

  He goes on to tell me that Joyce wants him at the funeral. The same aunt who has never stopped trying to be a part of his life. Even when he was in prison, she came to see him every week, making sure he not only had a familiar face around but money in his account for everything he needed. She never forgot him, not even when the rest of her family turned their back on him.

  “She says she needs me there and doesn’t want to bury him on her own,” he states, an edge to his voice. “Dad was a dick to her, but he was still her brother.”

  My mind automatically goes back to my sister’s funeral. Seeing my sister put into the ground was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Having Brew, Trix, and the rest of the Grim Bastards at my side helped, but it would have been easier if my family had been the kind of people I could have leaned on. It’s not the same, not in any way. My sister was everything good and pure in the world. Brew’s dad was everything ugly and corrupt. Still, he was Joyce’s brother. Watching him being lowered into the ground is going to be hard on her.

  “I know you don’t want to go, but you need to. She has always been there for you. Now, it’s your turn to be there for her,” I tell him, hating to put more on his shoulders.

  He doesn’t need anything else to deal with right now. He has enough worries. For weeks, Brew has been on edge. There is something going on with the club, but he won’t say a word about it. I don’t know if that is because he can’t say, if it’s some secret club shit, or if he doesn’t want to worry me.

  “I know, but I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he mumbles, bringing his lips to mine. “Cause right now, I want to fuck my old lady.”

  I smile against his lips and run my hands down to cup his bare ass. “I think that sounds like a good plan.”

  Without another word, he moves down my body and softly kisses the top of my breast. I run my hand over his freshly shaved head as his mouth works my nipple. As much as I loved Brew’s hair, I love the prickly feel of the stubble covering his head. Especially, when he runs it against my skin. The thought of his hair flies from my mind as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, nipping the tender flesh.

  “Harder,” I beg as a moan slips out.

  He does as I instructed, biting into my nipple and then moving to my other breast and doing the same. He sucks it into his mouth, sucking hard enough to let me know there will be a mark later. He moves back and forth between each breast, causing me to writhe in pleasure.

  His hands work my body as he continues to feast on my breast. His thumb circles my clit while one finger slides inside of me. The dual sensation has me ready for me. I want him deep inside of me, reminding me that I am his. He pinches my clit, just as his callused finger rubs against my G-spot.

  “Need you inside me, baby,” I say with a gasp, begging him for what I need. “Want your cock, please.”

  Finally, he rolls over on his back, forcing me to straddle him. His cock nestles between my thighs as he places me just where he wants me. My lips meet his as I glide over his hard length. The piercing at the tip hits my clit, causing my pussy to convulse with need. I lift my hips just enough to wrap my hand around the base and place his cock at my opening. I quickly sink down on it, not stopping until he is deep inside of me.

  My head flies back as I moan, “Yes.”

  I ride him slowly, feeling every ridge of his hardness as he slides into my depth. He lifts his hips, forcing me to take him deeper and deeper. My body grinds down, trying to get as close to him as I can. I want him deep, want him to be a part of me. Each downward glide brings me closer and closer to the edge.

  “Faster, Red,” he orders, squeezing my hips.

  I want to give him what he needs, but this feels too good to change. I keep my pace, going slow to draw out the sensations. He lets me have my way for a minute or two, then growls out a curse and flips me over. Brew powers in and out of me, going deep and hard every time. I move with him, letting out a gasp each time he bottoms out. It takes only a few seconds when my pussy starts to contract.

  “Just like that, baby,” I cry out, wanting the pleasure to keep going. “It feels so damn good.”

  He immediately picks up speed, as if my words have brought him to the edge. The power of his strokes causes my body to vibrate with the need to orgasm. With each thrust, I get closer and closer to reach the pinnacle. A part of me wants this to last forever, but another part wants to come right now. It’s that part that has my hand moving between us to work my cli
t. As soon as I touch it, my hips buck as my pussy clamps down on his cock. Waves of pleasure rush through my body, leaving me breathless

  “Fucking beautiful,” I moan, wrapping my arms around him.

  Through the years, we have made love hundreds of times, thousands even. Each and every time is good, seemingly getting better as the years pass. For a while, I figured our hunger for each other would fade, but it hasn’t. Now, I doubt it ever will.

  “It’s always beautiful, Addy,” he says, never slowing his strokes. “Just being inside you is fucking amazing.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Addy

  Holding Brew’s hand, I match his stride as we walk down the hallway of our hotel. Tension is flowing off my old man, his body taut with anger. I have to chew on my bottom lip to keep from saying something that will only make it worse. Right now, I’m keeping my mouth shut and following his lead. If he wants to talk, we’ll talk. If he wants quiet, I’ll give it to him. If he wants to shout, I’ll listen. Today is all about him.

  I understand how he is feeling and do not blame him for being pissed. It has been nothing but a nightmare since we got into his hometown. The memorial wasn’t even the bad part. To me, even to Brew, the funeral was nothing more than watching some stranger be laid to rest. If anything, seeing the father that turned his back on him being put into the ground was a relief for my husband. It’s the rest of his family that has both of us pissed. Well, at least the biggest part of it. His mother, sister, and brother-in-law.

  “I’ve always told you that my family was fucked up, babe. Today, you got to see firsthand just how bad they really are,” Brew says as he leads me into our room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Fucked up is putting it mildly. My man’s family is completely bat shit crazy. Brew told me that all they have ever cared about was what others thought about them. They wanted everyone to believe they were the perfect all-American family. Owning the legendary Decker Creamery ice-cream shops, it was an image the whole world had of the Decker family and they wanted to keep it that way.