“Yeah ya can,” Big and I say in unison, then look at each other. Gazes catching, his twinkles with delight, mine mimics the sentiment. We share a private smile and break into soft chuckles.
‘I love you,’ I mouth. He returns the declaration in kind, dimple out in full belly fluttering force.
Just as I lean up to share a kiss that might get us in trouble, there’s a loud boom outside. Then another… and another.
More follow.
The hairs on my arms stand on end, a shiver passing through me. Sickness replaces the warmth in my center.
There are only two things that make that kind of noise—fireworks and gunshots.
It ain’t the Fourth of July.
“Fuck!” Big’s off the couch and on his feet in a flash.
We don’t have to say a thing to the other. We share a look- one that says, ‘be safe, I’ve got this,’ then he’s off, climbing the basement stairs two at a time. The power of his steps echoes off the walls, forcing bile up my throat.
Tati turns to look at me, a mask of horror written across her features as more gunshots ring through the night.
I move on instinct, fast and sure.
Within the blink of an eye, I've got a sleeping Harley in my arms, carrying her down the stairs to Tati's bedroom. I place my bundle on the Papasan chair in the corner to keep her safe. Seated on her bed, Tati draws her knees to her chest. A blanket is tucked around her as violence ensues outdoors.
“This is bullshit!” Jez's voice booms in the basement. Moments later, she enters the bedroom with a kid on both hips and a pissed off old man on her tail. She hands me her son, as Ms. H climbs on the twin bed to join Tati.
Giving the adults privacy, to get their sloppy tongue action on, I rock the baby on my hip and address the group of kids. “It’s gonna be fine. Nothing to worry about,” I reassure. “If you need anything, let us know. It’s gonna be a tight fit tonight. But we’ve got another bedroom here to share.” Because I don’t think Tati’s gonna want Debbie’s teenage sons in her domain any more than Big and I would, I decide they can stay in the bedroom down the hall. Which means we have Deke’s girls, Dixie’s baby, Dom, and Janie left to make room for. Plus, the sisters.
Jez sends Bulk on his way and retrieves her son from me.
“It’s bad out there, Bink,” she explains as she follows me to the other basement bedroom where I store extra blankets in the closet.
“Did they say what’s going on?” I ruffle through shelves, dumping what I can in a pile to share, including a few of Big’s older hoodies he doesn’t wear anymore.
“No. I saw Big race past us as Bulk forced me here. There were lots of gunshots.”
“We’re on lockdown for a reason.”
“Yes, but we’ve never had this before," her voice wavers.
“We’ve never been at war with Remy Whitaker before either.” Using my legs to lift the mound of sheets, blankets, clothes, and a few towels, I spin to look Jez in the eye and use my chin to keep the pile in place. Her usual sass is replaced with fear. I get it; she's never lived this part of the lifestyle. An average person might piss their pants experiencing what we're subjected to. If I stopped long enough to think about it, I might be scared, too. But I’m not. Big’s the strongest man I know and has the best men at his back. If we have to fight off a sick and deranged sex trafficker so we can free women and boys from his clutches, then so be it — Tati's safe because of us. Janie and Dom are safe because of Rosie. This is the small price we must pay for the freedom of others.
Wetness blooms in Jez’s stare. “This isn’t good.”
“We’re Sacred Sinners. It doesn’t matter if it’s good. We’ve got this.”
She nods and wipes the back of her hand across her eyes. "I hate bein’ on my fuckin’ period. All this chocolate eating and crying is bullshit.”
Amused by this crazy woman, I tilt my head toward the closed bathroom door. “There're tampons and pads in there if you need ‘em. Chocolate’s in the kitchen. Now, let’s get comfortable. It’s gonna be a long night.”
Jez trails me out of the bedroom. We bump into Candy Cane as we enter the hallway. She steals the mountain from my arms and goes about her duties. Knowing the other sisters might not have anyone to get them here safely, I leave Jez and Candy Cane to handle the people here as I jog to the main floor, where gunshots ring louder.
On a mission, I enter our bedroom. Off goes the pajama bottoms and t-shirt, right beside Big’s discarded pajamas. On goes a black hoodie, a pair of black leggings, and black socks from the closet. I stuff my feet in my oldest motorcycle boots and lace them up quickly before grabbing my ‘property of’ cut from the kitchen. It takes all of five minutes, and I'm ready to do what I gotta do. Big can kill me for this later when we've got time to argue.
Last, I seek out Big’s weapons locker under his side of his bed. But my man’s already beat me to it. In the space between the wall and mattress, the case lies open. Guns, knives, and ammo alike are strewn about, pieces missing. I select the thigh holster, adjust it to my size, and clip it around my right leg — an easy to wield semi-auto handgun clips in quickly enough. Four full magazines find their homes in a pocket. A small blade gets stuffed inside my boot. A pen flashlight and zip ties are the last objects I pilfer and drop into my opposing boot. Then I’m off, walking through the house, straight out the front door, before anyone can stop me. They’re too busy to notice I’m gone anyhow.
Gunfire and curse words light up the compound as I carefully descend my front steps, on high alert, hand poised on the holster.
Cutting across the asphalt up ahead is Viper with Janie and Dom. Arms curled around them, he shields them with his body. When he sees me, Viper frowns, shaking his head. “Get in the goddamn house, Bink!”
Before he can force me inside, I beeline it straight for Debbie’s, not giving a shit if he gets mad at me. Dallas is on the porch, gun out as I approach.
“It’s me!” I holler to announce myself. I don’t want a bullet in my ass tonight, thank you very much.
“You stubborn little shit, get back home right now!” he scolds, glaring at me.
I stop at the bottom step, beside a large bush for proper cover. “No. Send Deb and the boys out.”
“Bink!” Dallas growls and shoots off a text on his phone, probably tattling to Big. Stupid bro-code.
Having heard me outside, Debbie exits the house yielding a pistol, her curly hair a wild mess on top of her head. Both boys cloaked in black blankets step out behind her.
“Woman, get in the house,” her man demands.
Deb isn’t having any of it. “I’m goin’ with Bink. You go help Big.”
Dallas grabs his old lady’s upper arm and shuffles her backward until her spine collides with their porch wall. His getting up in her face gives me 2.5 seconds to ponder whether Dallas is gonna lose his shit or not. Debbie grabs his cut, not giving him a chance to be a dick, and lays a passionate kiss against that mouth. It goes on far longer than it should, under the current circumstances. When Dallas is through thoroughly doin’ what he’s gotta do, fondling what he’s gotta fondle, he twists his head my way. “You’re gonna get in trouble for this later,” he promises.
Yes, I will. So be it.
Widening my stance, I hold my head high. “Sacred Sisters and family are supposed to be at our place. I’ve got ‘em.”
“You damn well better.”
Rolling my eyes at Dallas’s thinly veiled threat, I usher Debbie and her boys back to the house. They don’t waste any time welcoming themselves inside as I head back out to round up Deke’s girls. He’s probably losing his mind. Wanting to be with his brothers, but too scared to transport his children in open gunfire.
Guess it’s a good thing the Sacred Sinners compound is separated- clubhouse from family homes. Less chance of getting sprayed with stray bullets.
Jogging to Deke’s house, keeping to the shadows, I reach the edge of his porch when a massive palm suddenly wraps around my bicep
. Heart lodging in my throat, I move on instinct. Pulling my gun, I swing to shoot, but the muzzle’s deflected as a strong hand clamps around my wrist.
“You asshole!” I hiss, trying to fight him off with a kick to the shin.
My silent attacker isn't fazed the slightest when he relieves me of my gun and throws me over his brawny shoulder. Stupid fucking dickhead!
“Kai!” I beat against the jerk’s muscled back as he sprints to my place, away from Deke’s. Away from the kids, who need us!
“Kai!” Not giving up, I yank a handful of soft hair to get his attention as the screech of mangled steel pierces my eardrums.
Goddammit! Shit’s happening up front. I need to bring these kids to safety. I need my sisters together!
The blond jerk grunts in obvious pain, but never stops his forward momentum.
"Kai!" I kick and fight to no avail. If I thought Big was a problem, Kai's worse. He doesn't care about me the way Big does. Doesn't get joy in tormenting me. This is business, nothing more.
An ear-piercing explosion lands too close for comfort. A flash of blinding light comes from the back of the compound, making my eyes water. I shield them in Kai’s cut as plumes of white smoke fill the air, surrounding us, stealing our visibility.
“Bastards,” Kai snarls.
Setting me on my feet, he returns my gun to my hand. I read him loud and clear—be ready, protect yourself at all costs. No problem, I know how to do that.
A palm on my right shoulder guides me to my knees between two bushes on the edge of our garage. Kai stays with me, crouching, a knife wielded in one hand, a gun in the other, his back pressed against the siding. The smoke’s thick, but drifts into the starry sky, dissipating little by little.
Footsteps sound nearby.
People yell from the clubhouse.
Whispers of orders carry on the wind from voices I’ve never heard before.
I tap Kai on the calf. Our eyes meet through the foggy darkness.
He nods as if reading my thoughts.
I’ve never killed anyone before. Sure, I’ve injured a few with my fists, and once a knife, but I’ve never pulled the trigger to end a person’s life.
Sweat beads on my brow at the prospect, heart beating out of my chest. I take a deep breath to calm myself. The smoke burns my lungs. It's them or us. We won't let these assholes win. No matter what, that can't happen.
A twig snaps under someone’s foot that isn’t ours.
Kai looks at my gun and back to my face. He blinks, releases a breath through his lips, then says, “Shoot at the count of three,” as he steps into the wide-open without warning.
I don’t wait for three.
Everything happens in slow motion.
Bullets fly from my gun, from his.
There’s a moan of agony.
Cursing.
Wetness sprays my face.
I crawl in front of the bush, staying low as I unload my clip and grab another.
It clicks into place. Then I'm firing into the smoke again, away from where I last saw Kai.
By the third clip, I'm numb — tears stream down my face. I'm screaming, I think. The muscles in my arms ache as every inch of me vibrates in equal parts fear and adrenaline.
The world goes silent, save for the ringing in my ears.
Fingers trembling, I collapse onto my ass, hidden by a bush jabbing it’s spindly branches into my arm.
It could be a second, a minute, twenty, I don’t know how long before the fog lifts enough for me to see Kai laying on his back ten feet from me. Head turned my way, there’s a smile spread across his too handsome face.
“You’re not dead,” I gasp, bottom lip wobbling.
Winking at me, Mr. Blond and Buff pats his chest, highlighting his lack of wounds. I look down at my hands, at the gun I unloaded. A rotted cancer fills my insides the longer I stare at the metal and the empty casings on the ground around me.
I did that.
A fresh batch of tears fall in streams.
Boot heels thunder across the pavement, drawing closer. Discarding the useless gun, I pull my knife instead, ready to fight.
They want more? I won’t give up now. These fuckers are as good as gone.
Kai shakes his head. “You’re good, Bink. You did good.”
I did good.
Right.
Tossing the blade into the grass, I sink against the wall, relieved. The tension in my shoulders bleeds out.
“Bink! Bink!” Big’s angry voice is music to my ears.
“Over here!” Kai returns.
Gunz rounds the corner first and stops. “Baby Doll.” By his pinched expression, he’s not happy with me.
I sigh.
Join the damn party.
Big shoves his brother out of the way to reach me. Dropping to his knees on the grass, my man grabs my biceps and forces me to his chest. Strong arms wrap so tightly around my middle I can hardly breathe. My fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, smashed between us.
“What did you do? What the fuck did you do?” my man croaks, drawing me onto his lap.
“I think she got ‘em all,” Jizz announces, and my stomach turns over.
I got them all.
I killed people.
“Fuck… You’re… Fuck.” Big rocks me against him, my legs straddling his thighs. Strong digits tangle in the base of my locks. My beautiful man shudders, kissing my hair, my temple, my forehead, everywhere he can as he holds on for dear life, and I let him. Dear God, do I let him... Because he’s what makes the world better. What’ll make this right. He's my solid ground — the anchor of my life.
“This… fuck…” The tidal wave of Big’s unbridled emotions crash into me, forcing tears to spill down my cheeks faster than before.
“I’m okay,” I reassure, peppering kisses into the crook of his sweaty neck.
He chokes on a sob, not giving a damn who can hear.
“Big.”
“Never again. Never…” He tries to catch his breath. “Goddammit… Never… Ever, ever again,” Big finally makes out.
All around us, brothers take care of what I’ve done. I try hard not to think about the dozens of bullets I unloaded into real, once live people.
The unmistakable scent of blood hangs heavy in the air as bodies are moved. There's a thud, and my stomach rolls. "I have to call Wanda," I whisper to Big’s comforting chest.
She’s the boss lady in town. I must confess my crimes. Pay for my sins.
“No,” he growls. “It’s handled. It’s all handled.”
“But… I killed people.”
“You defended your family.”
“How many?”
“How many, what?”
I swallow hard. “Did I… kill?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Big brushes me off, trying to protect me. He’s always trying to protect me. That can’t happen this time.
“I have to know Big. How many?”
“Four,” Kai answers nearby. “I handled one before I went down. You got the other four.”
“Kai,” Big snarls in warning, going stiff beneath me.
“She asked. The woman deserves to know. She’s gonna have to deal with this. You both are, brother. For the record, we’re all proud of you, Bink. Even if you shouldn't have been out here to begin with."
Four people are dead because of me.
Wiping my tears away, I peek over Big’s shoulder to see Kai’s eyes locked on us. He lifts his shirt to show me the Kevlar vest underneath. “Guess I got lucky.” He smiles full of sunny, surfer boy warmth and taps the places he got hit tonight—there’s six.
“I’d say so,” I reply.
If I hadn't gotten those men, Kai could be dead. I could be dead. My family inside our house could be dead.
The idea alone makes me ill.
We exchange faint nods of camaraderie... A moment passing between us only we can share. After tonight, Kai and I are forever bonded. My life forever changed.
Refusing to let
go, Big lifts me off the ground with ease. Those large hands support my ass as I wrap two willing legs around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. No words are spoken as we enter through our front door to be greeted by sisters, who leave us be. Down the hall we travel to our bathroom, where Big lowers me to the ground, then undresses me. And I let him. He's slow and deliberate, checking me for injuries as each piece of clothing joins the pile on the floor. I do the same in return, just now noticing the splatter of blood on his face and the open wounds on his knuckles.
Standing naked in front of one another, he folds my smaller hand in his before pulling me into the shower with him. The short blast of icy water douses us in reality, goosebumps pebbling across my skin. Big doesn’t seem to notice nor care as dirt and blood swirls down the drain. Never taking his eyes off me, he cups my cheek, then leans down to take my lips in a soft, soul tethering kiss. It lasts forever; yet, not long enough. It’s never enough. Not with him.
Hands roam, the slide of soap caressing over skin and hair. More kisses are stolen. Our body and soul joined in every way. Nothing can be heard beyond the rainfall of water.
Once we’re through, Big helps me from the shower. A towel wraps around me, drying what’s left of the bad memories away. It’s beautiful. Us. Our connection.
When I should freak out and cry, I can’t. Not with him by my side.
A lone tear treks down his cheek as he dries his half-hard cock with a towel. I reach up and wipe it away with my thumb. Our blues lock in a way they never have before. The room stills. Big’s bottom lip trembles. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect your innocence forever.”
“It’s okay. We’ll fix it together.” Always.
Needing to connect with Big on a deeper level, I’m the one who takes his hand and pulls him into our bedroom. At the side of our bed, I push him to sit and straddle his lap. Wanting so much more, I wet my hand and lube his growing shaft. Big groans but doesn’t stop me as I stroke him to full mast, then lift myself, and glide his length inside me to the hilt.
We moan in unison, his hands sliding across my hips to cradle my ass.
Together we rock, feeling the other, reveling in touch, in the present. There's no rush. No race to the end. It’s us. The raw and the dirty. The realness. The culmination of our love. We kiss, full of passion, of heartache, pleasure, and pain.
MC Chronicles Shorts #4 Page 2
