by J. L. Leslie
Not once does he confess to being responsible and not once do I ask him if he was behind it. He said he found her while out on patrol, meaning her body was dumped somewhere.
“What happened to her?” I ask him between cries.
“The same as our guys,” he answers solemnly.
It could be retaliation, and the Sinners could be responsible. An eye for an eye. They lost members and now, so have we.
As Warren holds me, rocking me in his lap, I can’t believe he’s responsible. I can’t believe he would do something like that. I don’t want to believe that. Not when he’s holding me like that. Not when he’s promising me everything is going to be alright.
But if the Sinners didn’t do it, who did?
Maybe we both have the same enemy, and this enemy is more ruthless and cunning than we are.
Maybe this enemy wants us all dead.
Chapter Eighteen
Warren
The past week has gone by in a fucking blur. Thank God we haven’t found any more dead bodies. Unfortunately, we don’t have any leads either.
We’re in the process of moving our product from Jiminez’s warehouse to the auto parts store, making it the first location that will open as a legitimate business with our shit stored in the back.
I’ve managed to keep Mackenzie’s location under wraps, sneaking in to see her every night, telling Reid I’m taking over so he can go to the clubhouse. As far as I’m aware, he hasn’t disobeyed my order and entered the house.
I bring her food, and we eat together, talking about club life and about our families. She doesn’t talk much about hers, mainly about her brother.
Then we fuck. Sometimes I remove her cuffs and other times she wants to keep her restraints on. But our hunger for each other hasn’t been sated. We are both predators that prey on each other. Both like carnivorous animals, devouring one another.
She no longer begs for me to let her go, and I know why. She’s not an animal on a leash down there. She isn’t in a prison. She’s free.
I walk inside the clubhouse after a daylong trip to the warehouse and a trip to see Mackenzie. Lucien stands on the other side of the bar, and Harper is seated at it. Reid, Harco, Wiggie, and a few other members are standing around, listening to Lucien.
“There’s some concern that another member of Hell’s Fury has been taken,” Lucien says, obviously talking about Mackenzie. He plays his part well, never showing Harper or anyone else that he knows what has happened to Mackenzie. “I want to know who’s behind it.”
“Are we fucking detectives now?” Reid smarts. “We’re already looking for who killed our men. I don’t give a shit about some dead Hell’s Fury bitch or the one that’s missing. I want to find the fucker responsible for Billy and Hatcher’s death.”
“That’s not getting put on the back burner. All three bodies were found in our territory, which is causing a stir with our supplier. We don’t want a war with anyone and we sure as fuck don’t want our supplier backing out of our deal because we don’t keep our house clean.”
“It sounds like I missed something,” I say, taking a seat beside Harper.
“Donia said Mackenzie sent her a text, letting her know she had a family emergency, but I know Mackenzie, and she wouldn’t have left to go help anyone in her family. She wrote them off a long time ago,” Harper explains.
“Maybe you don’t know her anymore,” I tell her, and I can see the sadness in her eyes. To avoid that, I turn to Lucien. “I checked into it like I said I would, and I’ve already told you her story checks out. I’m sure she’ll be back in a day or two.”
“That’s bullshit! It’s been over a week!” Harper exclaims, not buying my story for one second. “She wouldn’t leave like this! Suggs doesn’t even know where she is!”
“I’m not buying it either,” a voice from the back of the room says, and I realize Suggs is here. “If she’s out of town, why the fuck isn’t she answering her phone?”
“Could be ghosting you,” Reid remarks and I stifle a laugh.
“If Warren says her story checks out, then it checks out,” Lucien says to me, and I nod. “We’re going to focus on finding our brothers’ killer.”
“And what about Suzanne?” Harper puts in.
“Who the fuck knows, baby? That person could be one and the same,” Lucien replies.
He comes around the bar and takes Harper’s hand, urging her off the stool and down the hall while he talks quietly to her. She’s being dismissed, and so are her accusations.
“Everyone is to extend their time on patrol. If your shift starts at eight, it now starts at five. Wiggie, make sure you work out that schedule for everyone and inform the prospects they’ll be patrolling now. No one is to be left alone. No members, no old ladies, and no club whores. Watch everything and everyone, reassure the businesses who have us on payroll that we are doing the job they pay us to do and they have nothing to worry about. I’ll go see Hightower and get a copy of the police reports,” Lucien informs us all. “Dismissed.”
Everyone disburses, only grumbling a little about the extra patrol hours. I stay seated at the bar and pull out my pack of cigarettes, lighting one up.
“Now, I need you to be honest with me,” Lucien narrows his eyes at me now that the room is empty. “Is Mackenzie still alive?”
I take another drag from my cigarette and blow the smoke up instead of directly in his face.
“She’s fine, but I don’t have any answers from her yet,” I reply and see the confusion on his face as he leans up, crossing his arms.
“You’re fucking shitting me,” he mutters. “You’ve had her this whole time and haven’t got anything?”
“She’s a tough nut to crack, Lucien,” I tell him, and he nods in understanding.
“Does Harper know anything? Did she see anything, or did they tell her anything before she left?”
“They pretty much kept her out of the loop once she didn’t kill me.”
“Would she tell you if she did know?” I challenge, and I can see that I’ve hit a nerve.
“Yes,” he replies. “I have no fucking doubt about my old lady’s loyalty.”
“And what about Suggs? You’re letting him in on our meetings now?”
“I make the decisions on who I allow in this clubhouse,” he smarts. “If you’re done questioning me, let’s take a ride.”
I follow him outside and get on my bike. Lucien leads the way to the auto parts store we just purchased. He unlocks the door and steps inside, disabling the alarm. We go to the back, and he takes a box off the shelf, opening it and revealing the contents to me.
“We’re ready to move the product,” he informs me. “We’ll line the backs of the shelves with these boxes, hiding our bricks should anyone come in and do a search. They’ll see the boxes in the front with auto parts in it and chances are, they won’t bother continuing to search. The coke should be safe.”
“A legitimate business covering up our illegal dealings,” I muse. “It’s ready. Me and Reid loaded the last of the product today.”
“Perfect. Harco is working on a website for us, putting an order form on there so we can make shipments. Everything will appear legit, the purchase orders and deliveries. Our asses will be covered in case the chief decides he no longer wants to get his hands dirty.”
“I doubt that,” I laugh, knowing that the Chief of Police has been on the Sinners’ payroll since its existence.
He’s one of our highest paid allies and the only reason we got away with massacring Jiminez’s men. We did a thorough clean-up, but their disappearances have yet to make it to the news and they never will.
“We can make this work, so long as our enemies don’t fuck it up before we even get it started.”
He’s worried about our two dead brothers and why someone would murder them as well as Suzanne. The chief hasn’t been able to keep their deaths quiet. The media wants answers, and I don’t blame them. I want answers too.
“And if we don�
��t get answers soon so you can let Mackenzie go, we’ll definitely have a war on our hands because there’s no fucking way Hell’s Fury won’t hold us liable. Shit, they probably already do.”
And he doesn’t want to go to war with his old lady’s club. When I really think about it, I don’t want to go to war with them either. We have enough fucking enemies.
Shit, I have to stop the fun I’m having with Mackenzie and do my damn job. Otherwise, I’m bringing hell to our fucking doorstep.
Mackenzie
I wake up to the sound of the door slamming. I can barely see Warren coming down the basement stairs.
“I’m only going to ask this once, Mackenzie, and for fuck’s sake, do not lie to me,” he says, and I sit up on the bed.
“No, I don’t prefer Suggs’ cock over yours,” I joke, but he clearly isn’t in a joking mood because he mumbles a curse as he walks, running a hand through his hair.
“Did Hell’s Fury order the hit on the Sinners?”
“I can’t answer that,” I tell him, and he grabs my arm, dragging me across the mattress.
The cuffs dig into my wrists, so I jerk up, kicking my feet out. I can’t do much with my hands with him holding my arm, but I clasp my fists together and do my best to wrestle them free. Once he lets go, I swing upward. Warren dodges my punch and grabs my feet. He takes the cuffs off of them and tosses them on the mattress.
“You’re going to fight off an assailant with both your ankles and hands cuffed?” he asks me breathlessly, and my eyes finally adjust to the darkness in the room, the moonlight shining through the small window the only light.
“For all I know, you were sent to finally kill me.”
He grips my wrists, and I feel the cuff loosen before he removes it. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be fucking dead, Mackenzie.”
The mattress shifts as he stands and the next thing I know, he’s taking my hand and pulling me to my feet, throwing clothes at me before closing my suitcase.
“What is this?” I ask him, angrily, my hands trembling as I get dressed. The moment my jeans are buttoned, he’s pushing me toward the door. “Stop shoving me!”
“I got my answer, so I’m releasing you,” he answers. “Get the fuck out.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He pushes me again, opening the door to the basement and closing it behind him. I look back at him and see that he’s carrying my suitcase in his hand.
“Get in the fucking truck,” he orders, his voice cold.
I get it now. Inside the basement, we can both be ourselves. We don’t have to hide our inner demons; we can unleash them.
But out here, we’re enemies, and he believes I had his friends killed. I can’t say that I blame him. Yet, after all we’ve been through, all we’ve said to each other, it hurts that he truly thinks I had something to do with the deaths of those Sinners.
“Fuck you!” I hiss, and he smirks.
“Yeah, I got that out of my system. We’re done.”
I see red at his response, and launch myself at him, landing a punch to his cheek before he can stop me. He catches my arm as I’m attempting another one and spins me until my back is flush against his chest.
“We both got what we wanted, and now it’s over!” he yells, his voice breaking slightly. “I have no more fucking use for you!”
I cry out in frustration and ram my elbow back, jabbing him in the gut. He’s hold loosens, and I pry his arms off me, spinning and kneeing him in the nuts.
“This isn’t fucking over until you’re begging for your life, motherfucker,” I threaten and rush over to the Suburban.
The keys are in it, so I crank and shift it into gear, slamming my foot on the gas, escaping my prison. I look in the rearview, watching Warren as I leave him and the short-lived freedom he gave me behind.
I should be elated that he released me, ecstatic that I’m free, but I’m pissed off that he waltzed in the way he did and demanded that I leave as though I meant nothing to him.
I thought he wanted to keep me, and in my insanely fucked-up mind, I thought that meant more than as his prisoner.
I slap the steering wheel with the palm of my hand, hating myself for being hurt by his actions. All my life I’ve been let down by people, people who were supposed to love me and take care of me. Why did I expect Warren to be different?
I think of the cruel way my parents turned their back on Matthew when he died. How they pretended he wasn’t even their son. I think of how he didn’t mean to let me down, but he did, leaving me with no one.
By the time I arrive at my house, I’m a mess. Tears are streaming down my face, and I’m sniffling, unable to stop them from falling. I put the vehicle in park and get out, not bothering with my suitcase, and go to my porch.
I reach for my doorknob, but before I can turn it, my door opens. Suggs stands there, shock immediately registering on his face.
“Holy shit, babe,” he says, stepping forward and embracing me. “I’ve been worried fucking sick about you.”
Although I don’t love him and doubt I ever will, I find comfort knowing that he was worried about me. That he’s here now and he’s holding me. I want to forget everything that’s happened over the past week.
Forget the way Warren touched me.
Forget the things I told him.
Forget how he made me feel.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I forgot my phone here.”
It’s a lame excuse, especially when I could tell him the truth. He’s frowning as he leans back, not fully buying my story, but when I kiss him, his body molds to mine.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he tells me, his fingers working the button of my jeans. “Don’t ever pull a damn stunt like that again, you hear me?”
I nod, unzipping his pants and freeing his cock while he shoves my jeans and panties down. He turns me around and pushes me against the wall, entering me from behind.
I shut off my emotions, letting him fuck me. Telling myself this is the way I move on. Even when I know it’s a motherfucking lie.
Chapter Nineteen
Warren
It takes me a fucking hour to walk to Mackenzie’s house. I started to go to the clubhouse but knew I would be questioned on where the Suburban was. I’m sure Lucien wouldn’t take it too well if I told him she drove off in it, especially considering how fucking pissed she was.
I approach the vehicle from the passenger side, just in case she’s lying in wait for me, and see that it’s empty with the keys still in the ignition. I suppose she lives in an okay neighborhood, and the odds of it being stolen are low. Of course, I’ve already broken into her house twice, and no one reported anything.
I debate whether or not I should get in and haul ass, much like she did, but a side of me that can’t see logic convinces myself to go to her. To explain why I released her. That holding her hostage if she was innocent could result in a war that neither of us wants to be blamed for.
I tap lightly on her door, figuring she might answer with a loaded gun. After a few moments, I turn the knob and find it unlocked. I step inside, listening for any sound of her.
There’s a creaking noise coming from down the hall. I start toward it and then stop when I hear moans. Anger rises inside me, my blood pounding in my ears. I clench my fists as I go to her bedroom and peek inside.
Mackenzie is riding Suggs, her body writhing on his cock in reverse cowgirl. Her perfect fucking tits sway with her every move. His hands squeezing and massaging her heart-shaped ass.
I grip her door, somehow holding back from waltzing right in and killing the asshole. Putting a bullet right into his bald head.
The only thing that stops me is Mackenzie. Her dark eyes are staring right at me. Her lips are parted as she trails her hand down and teases her clit. She uses her other hand to pinch her nipple; the one still bruised from my bites.
She licks her lips and bucks harder, faster. She moans and puts on a show of this earth-shattering climax, her gaze never leavin
g mine. She might be fucking Suggs, but she’s thinking of me.
I sneak back out of her house, pissed off but also aroused. Seems that I’m constantly in this state nowadays. This woman fucking infuriates me.
She was damn angry at me for taking her, but more so for letting her go. I can’t win with her but damn it all, I’d give my life trying to.
I open the door to the Suburban, and that’s when I spot Suggs’ truck parked across the street. Not sure how I missed it before. I leave the door to the Suburban open and pull my knife out of my back pocket. I puncture his tires, all fucking four of them, before I get in the Suburban and drive off.
When he’s finished getting his rocks off, he’ll have a nice surprise waiting for him. Damn prick.
I’m halfway to the clubhouse, my hard on finally abated when I see blue lights flashing ahead. I mumble a curse, noting they’re not far from our store. I slow down, craning my neck to see what the hell’s going on.
Police are everywhere, as well as an ambulance and onlookers gawking just like I am. I spot a bloody sheet covering up a large object on the sidewalk and instantly know what’s going on.
There’s another body, and again, it was dumped right in front of our store. Someone is definitely trying to take us out. One Sinner at a time.
Mackenzie
Suggs three. Mackenzie zero.
If that doesn’t suck ass, I don’t know what does. It isn’t that Suggs doesn’t know what to do with his nine-inch dick, but that someone else has an eleven-inch dick and my pussy only wants to respond to it.
I’m tired of faking orgasms when my body knows I don’t have to fake it. So what if I hate Warren? Can’t I just use him for pleasure the same way men do women all the time?
Maybe I should lock him up in my basement. Feed him and fuck him at my whim. Sounds good to me.
Shit, if I had him like that, I would never see the light of day again. My permanent home would be my basement, my greedy cunt taking his cock 24/7. Christ almighty, am I a fucking sex addict now? When did I become dicknotized?
