by Amo Jones
“She’s precious, Meadow. Congratulations again.” I stand straight. “I need to go, because apparently I can’t go anywhere without people knowing where I am.” They laugh again. “I’ll see you all tomorrow night.” Walking past Beast, I tap his arm. “Congrats, Dad!” He smiles a full, beaming grin and it suits him. He should smile like that more often. I lower my voice. “How’s Ella?”
His smile turns soft. “She’s good.”
I nod, glad she has one attentive brother at least. “I guess I’ll see her tomorrow night.” Beast bows out, and I walk past him and back toward Joker.
Joker chuckles when I ignore him, walking straight past. “Oh, come on,” he laughs, chasing me until he falls into step beside me. “I’m not that bad.”
I scoff. “Maybe it’s not that you’re bad,” I say, throwing him a side grin. “Maybe it’s that you’re not bad enough.”
His mouth falls open, and I push out the front doors, waving to Frost and the guys before making my way back to the car.
“Well, shit!” Joker yells out behind me. “Baby, if you wanna dance, we can dance.” I flip him off over my shoulder and climb into the driver’s seat. I didn’t mean he’s not bad. It’s that he’s… well, he’s Joker.
“You coming or what?” I ask, cranking my window down. He smiles and runs over to the passenger seat before I put it into first gear and pull away.
“Why do you hate me? I wasn’t the only one who tormented you in the dungeon, yet you manage to at least crack a smile at Angel.”
I peek at him out of the corner of my eye to find him serious. I sigh, pulling over to the side of the road.
“What’re you doing?” he asks, looking at all the cars passing us.
I put my indicator on and wait for a free space before hooking the car around. “I need nuggets for this conversation.”
Pulling into McDonald’s, I quickly go through the drive thru. Once we hit the highway again, Joker digs into the bag of chicken, and I whack him across the arm. “Hey! I know you’re not a gentleman, but dammit, these are my nuggets, and I will cut you if you eat one before me.”
He laughs, tossing the bag at me. “I’ve heard stories about these nuggets and you.”
“Yes,” I hiss. “And those rumors are not false. Don’t fuck with me, mask boy. I will end you.”
He chuckles again as I rummage through the bag while keeping my eyes locked on the road ahead of me. “So spill,” he says. “Tell me why you hate me so much.”
I take a bite. “Tell me why you care.”
“I don’t,” Joker begins. “But you’re Raze’s woman, and I kinda don’t want to be on the shit list of his queen, if you feel me.”
“I don’t hate you.” I veer the car into the private driveway of Raze’s house. I’m still not sure whether I’m completely comfortable with calling it my house too yet.
Pulling up the emergency brake, I turn toward Joker. “I’m not exactly happy about your existence either.” I exhale. “But it’s not you, it’s me. My life hasn’t just done a one-eighty. It’s damn well done a kick-flip ollie.”
I reach for the door handle and his hand stops me. “You’re not bullshitting?”
“I’m not.” I search his eyes. “It’s not you.”
He seems to believe me somewhat, enough for him to release my arm. “Okay.”
Walking into the house, I shut the door behind myself as Joker goes straight to his room, and place the keys on the console table. Raze comes walking down the stairs, his eyebrows raised and his chest bare. Every muscle tenses as he takes a step. I run my eyes down his tattooed form, pausing at where his V dips underneath his loose, ripped jeans. His button is undone and my mouth waters.
Skimming my tongue over my bottom lip, I grin. “Is this the part where I apologize?” My leer deepens. “Because I’m not feeling very apologetic.”
Raze looks to the side, a sadistic smirk inching onto his face, and a deep chuckle vibrates from his chest before he looks back to me. He steps closer. “Oh, you will.”
I step backward and shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
He matches my movements, stepping forward again. I retreat until my back collides with the front door. Slowly, I start to shift sideways as adrenaline begins to bubble under my skin. In a flash, both his hands come flying up to the sides of my head, caging me in. I squeal out loud, my heart pounding against my chest. He tilts his head as his eyes run over my face, studying every single inch of my skin before dropping lower, licking his gaze over my body.
“What?” I ask breathlessly. “What are you waiting for?”
He smirks again, his eyes running back up my body until they lock onto mine, and I swear to God my legs shake, my heart quivers, and my mouth waters. “I will get that apology out of you.” Then he scoops his arm around my legs and throws me over his shoulder. I laugh out loud as he carries me up the stairs, landing a loud slap on my ass. “You and your bad girl fucking ways, Millie. If you carry on with this shit, you’re going to live the rest of your life with a very sore fucking ass.”
“But I like when you give me a sore ass.” I giggle, my head jolting as he continues to walk to his bedroom.
“Yeah, that’s not what I meant.”
I pause. “What did you mean?”
“Oh… I think you know.” He opens the door, walks in, and slams it closed before walking up the stairs and to his bed. Throwing me onto the mattress, his tongue darts out and slides across his bottom lip. “Clothes off.” I hesitate. “Now.”
Yanking off my top, I stand on the bed and watch as he backs up, tilting his head and watching me. I flick open the button of my jeans and shimmy them down my legs. His eyes darken as he drinks me in, and I him. He looks as delicious as always. Raking my hair away from my face, I smirk before bringing my hand up to the back of my bra, sliding it off. Keeping his eyes on mine, his hand finds the drawer I’m so familiar with, and the creaking of it opening breaks the intimate silence. Oh crap.
“RAZE, IS THAT SMART? WE have men sitting on the Westbound pipeline, waiting for the opportunity. We may as well use them to our advantage, and I mean no disrespect.”
My jaw clenches as I run my hand up Millie’s thigh. She tries to clench her legs closed, but when I squeeze her, she relaxes, leaning on my chair. “Who do you think they’ll be expecting to take them down?” I ask, my palm inching higher up Millie’s skirt.
“Right, but I still think we could use them.”
I look around at everyone else that is seated in the boardroom of the base. “Anyone else share his views?”
They all shake their head.
I look to Millie, and she’s smirking at me under hooded eyes. That look has a direct line to my cock.
“Come here.”
She looks down at my lap and then out to everyone sitting around the table. Millie is beside me at every meeting I have now. It saves me from having to relay everything back to her when I get home, and she wants this, to keep her busy after Miles.
“What, are you serious?” Her eyes widen. “You want me to sit on your lap like a good little puppy?” Her smirk deepens and her head cocks.
“Yeah, babe. Dead serious. So next time you think about flashing that psycho little grin my way, might wanna think twice about whether or not you’d be comfortable with me shoving my cock down your throat right then and there.”
“Raze!” she snaps at me. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a very large and serious meeting.”
“Don’t give a fuck where we are or who we’re with.” I pause, the corners of my mouth kicking up in a grin. “But you already know that, don’t you, baby?”
She sucks in a breath. “Smooth,” she says, planting her little ass on my lap. Where it belongs. “Real smooth.”
I lean to the side, keeping my other hand possessively around her back. “So, as I was saying, they will be expecting shit to go flying from the West. They know we have them in our pocket. I won’t be overlooked. We go this route, and
we do it tonight.”
Benny tilts his head at me. He is one of the heads of the IRA. He’s not stupid, but he’s old, so he always has his nephew BJ hanging off his right hand. I know he’s grooming BJ to take his spot when he decides to kick it, but I’m not sure I’d be too keen on working with the younger man. The little shit has no respect and a loose mouth. Two things I hate more than anything. So I hope, for Benny’s sake, he decides to live a little longer.
“You got this on lock?” Benny asks me, clipping his cigar.
“I do.”
He pauses for a brief second before nodding. “I trust you know what you’re doing, Raze.”
He better. The Columbus Cowboys are the last of who Kurr dealt through. He had a tight relationship with them, and word down the line is that they’re seeking revenge on none other than yours truly. They’ll be real fucking disappointed when they find out I got to them first.
“Anything else?” Killshot asks, his knee jiggling under the table. Killshot is the nephew of the Russian mafia. He gets sent in for the smaller gatherings, and there’s a reason why. Kazimir Lyov, the Russian mafia boss, is Killshot’s uncle. Kazimir has beef with a lot of people, so he keeps his meetings to a minimum. Since kidnapping and damn near raping his son, Ade’s—who is in some fucking biker group in Westbeach—old lady, he’s had a hit on his head. So he gets his nephew, Killshot, to attend the ones he doesn’t need to be present at.
Shaking my head, I clench my fist. “That’s all.” Millie places her hand over my fist and I release it gently. I don’t know how she manages to do it, and as cheesy as it sounds, she calms my storm every time. But I’m still not convinced it’s love. It could just be an obsession I have with her.
Taking her hand in mine, I pull her to her feet and turn to face The 6, who are standing proudly behind me. “You good to go? I’ve got to visit The Devil’s Own tonight, but after that, we’re good to ride out.” They all nod, and Millie squeezes my hand. I look down at her. “What?”
“What do you mean you’re going after that?”
“I mean, I’ll stay for a couple hours, but then I have to go and handle this. All this bullshit Kurr left behind, I have to clean up. It’s part of the package. Not that I wanted the fucking package, but it is what it is.”
“Huh,” Millie whispers, and Joker chuckles under his breath. “It is what it is. Never understood that phrase.”
“Baby, spit it out.”
“My ass still hurts from last night, so I really don’t want to fight you on this, but am I coming?”
“Definitely fucking not.” He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t scoff, his face remaining stoic and calm. Every muscle in his body goes rigid. Raze is always on high alert, a second away from and ready to commit murder.
“So I’m staying at the clubhouse after you leave?”
His reply is instant. “No.” He then pulls me forward until we’re walking to the front door. I step out into the afternoon sun and my eyes scrunch from its assault.
“Well, what then?”
“I’ll take you home and you will keep your ass there.”
“Fine!” I stomp to his car and pull open the passenger door, ignoring the laughter coming from the army of six behind him. Clipping in my seatbelt, I watched as Raze turns his now frustrated gaze back around to speak with The 6 briefly before he walks to the car and slips into the driver’s seat.
This should be fun.
Yanking his seatbelt on, he roars the ridiculously expensive car to life. “Is it so fucking hard for you to do as you’re fucking told?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus,” he utters under his breath, pulling out of the base. “I created this.”
Truth.
Sliding on a peach-colored tight tank, I button up my white skinny jeans and throw on a loose, knitted sweater before plaiting my hair into a fishtail braid that drops over my shoulder. Casual. I want casual if I’m going to the clubhouse. I know this meeting tonight is to talk about Shelby and her whereabouts, but from what I’ve heard, no one knows where she is. I’m almost one hundred percent certain that if Raze really wanted to find her, he’d be able to. I just need to figure out why he’s stalling. After brushing on some makeup and spritzing on some perfume, I slip my phone into my back pocket and make my way downstairs to wait for Raze. Walking into the foyer, I hear him on his phone.
“Yeah,” he says. “No, not yet. Because I fucking said.”
There’s a pause, and I pull in a slow breath, scared he might be able to hear me breathing.
“She doesn’t. She won’t. Because I fucking said,” he repeats.
Rolling my eyes at his bossiness, I lean against the wall and wait for him. Turning around, his eyes find mine instantly and I scan him up and down. He’s wearing his suit’s pants, with the collar of his shirt popped open, revealing his tattoos, and his tie is loose. His hair has grown out a bit, but it’s still shaved on the sides, close to the scalp. It’s not bald-close, but still short enough that you can see the intricate tattoos woven into his head.
“I’ll call you later.” He hangs up his phone and shoves it into his pocket. Ripping off his tie, he casually throws on a suit jacket and walks toward me. “Ready?”
I nod. “Ready.” We reach his Rolls Royce, and I pull open the passenger side door just as Joker walks out with Viking and Angel.
“Yo!” Joker yells. “We’ll wait for you on call.”
Raze nods before sliding into the driver’s seat. I turn around to face Joker and look at Viking. He’s exactly how I imagined he would look like without his mask on. Long hair, which drops to his shoulders, and a rough, long beard. He has to be somewhere in his thirties. Beards always throw me off; they could man-up a seventeen-year-old boy. They do for men what contouring does for women. He is handsome though, I guess, if he’s your type. I can’t say he’s mine, but I’m woman enough to admit he’s good-looking.
Looking to Angel, the boyish face I almost fear, I smile. He has such a dark place in him that I’m not sure anyone can touch. He looks at me, and I swear his eyes, just his eyes, smile at me. How can he do that? Keep the rest of his features stoic and frozen, while his eyes grin at me with dark malice? I don’t know, and I’m not sure how I feel about it either. With Raze, you know where you stand. You know flat out that he doesn’t give a flying horse shit about who you are, what you are, or where you came from. He is God, and judgment day is every day in the book of the Executioner. But Angel? I’m not sure. It’s unsettling, but after putting up with Raze and all his demonic tendencies, nothing really surprises me anymore.
“Hey!” Raze growls, cranking down the passenger window. “Get the fuck in this car now.”
Rolling my eyes, I pull open the door and scoot inside, clipping my seatbelt on and watching him closely as he pulls out of the driveway.
“Why so moody?” I ask, as he drives onto the main road.
His hand skims up my inner thigh, his pinky grazing over my center. “I’m not. But watch where you flash those sexy fucking eyes.”
I smile. “What? Jealous?” I’m teasing him, and I know it. Should I be teasing someone who can end any person walking this earth and make it look like an accident? Definitely not. Can I help it? No.
“Jealous?” He laughs, a psycho hitch to his chuckle. “Why would I be jealous?”
Pulling down the road to the clubhouse, we remain silent. What did he mean by why would he be jealous? I hoped he’d be a little something. After everything we had been through, do I know how Raze feels about me? The God honest truth to that is no. I don’t. I know that as much as someone like Raze can care, he does. But I’m not disillusioned with the idea that someone like him could love. I had thought he loved Miles, but now I don’t think he actually did. You can’t reject a kid so brutally like Raze has done to Miles’ if he loved him. It isn’t possible.
“I don’t know.” My anger simmers under the surface.
He pulls up the emergency brake, and just as I reach for the door handle, his ha
nd comes to my arm. “Hey!” I pause at his touch. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
I sigh. “Nothing. Let’s just get this night over with.”
He lets me go, but something in his eyes says this conversation is far from over.
Walking into the clubhouse, Raze takes my hand possessively and leads me toward the bar, where Melissa, Ella, and Jada are sitting.
“Hey, girls!” I say to all of them, and Ella looks up to Raze, jumps off her stool, and squeezes him into a hug. I feel Raze go rigid and then relax. Letting go of his hand, I take a seat beside Melissa, and behind the bar, Old Fella—that’s his actual name—pours me a drink.
“Tequila, baby girl?” he asks in his aged and croaky voice.
“Sure, why not?” I smile at him, and then look back to the girls. “What?” I ask, once I realize they’re all staring at me like a deer caught in headlights.
“We hitting it hard tonight?” Melissa asks, with her eyebrow quirked.
Raze steps up to me, gripping around my knees, causing an electrical current to rip through me. Spreading my legs open, he steps in-between them, and I can hear the girls chuckle in the background.
“Babe?” He tilts his head, his eyes licking all over my face. “Don’t get too smashed. I got shit to do later, and I don’t want to be peeling you off the floor.”
I wave my hand around, brushing him off, but he catches it right away. “I mean it, Millie.” Squeeze.
“Fine. I won’t have too many.”
He releases my wrist, presses a kiss to my forehead, and then leaves, walking toward where Beast holds what they call “church.” It’s basically where they conduct all their business meetings, and Melissa once told me that it’s rare any woman is allowed inside.
“So…?” Ella probes, taking a seat on the other side of me. I haven’t seen Ella since our little swap. “Things are looking pretty serious between you and my brother.”
“You could say that.” I pick up my drink and toss the liquid down my throat until it’s floating in a burning pool deep in my belly.
