Sacred Grip (Savage Saviors MC Book 5)

by J. C. Allen

  “What about ‘em?” Roost asked.

  Now it’s like a family discussion.

  Don’t you go getting too emotional here, now.

  “Just wondering what they’d think of all this,” I said.

  “I think they’d approve of what you were doing,” Roost said, leaning back on the couch. “They’d fuckin’ adore Eve. Don’t either of ya two ever doubt that.”

  “R-really?” Eve asked, flushing in embarrassment.

  “Oh, easily,” Roost nodded, seeming completely at ease with his statement. “Don’t get me wrong, they loved Anne. But even then, they could see the differences in lifestyle between Derek and her. And Annie definitely could handle her own. Just… it’s a dangerous life we live. And having a normal life ain’t exactly easy.”

  “Well, they certainly would’ve loved me then,” Eve laughed. “Future college grad gone whore.”

  Dad wouldn’t have cared. He would’ve cared about who you are, Eve. Logistics are logistics. Character is everything.

  “Hey,” I said, shaking my head. “My father had nothing against prostitutes. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He’s the reason I respect them so much.”

  “An’ besides, what’s wrong with bein’ a whore?” Tara said, raising an eyebrow.

  Oh yeah, can’t forget the loudmouth here.

  “Nothing, really,” Eve said, shaking her head. “Just wasn’t my first choice.”

  “Amen,” Tara said. “Ya ain’t good at it, either.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eve challenged.

  Oh, damn, I thought with a smile, enjoying the playful banter—and keeping a close eye to make sure it didn’t get too bad.

  “Ya were too interested in lovey-dovey shit,” Tara teased, bumping her on the couch.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Johns don’t want something that feels like Valentines Day girl! They just want their cock stroked, sucked, and pushed in!”

  Roost and Eve laughed and launched into some discussion about if Johns and gays wanted anything different. The whole scene, if not necessarily in the content, reflected what my family was like—silly banter, laughter, and food.

  “I miss my family,” I said to myself.

  I felt a flush of embarrassment when I saw Roost turn to me, but his soft smile lessened the embarrassment.

  “I miss ‘em too,” Roost said, patting me gently on the shoulder—softly, for once. “But look at us, huh? Kinda fucked, but all of us are family now, right?”

  “A whore, a gay redneck, a college grad, and the leader of a biker club,” Tara said, laughing. “Sounds like my kinda sitcom.”

  “Mine too,” Eve laughed.

  “And mine.”

  Then we were all laughing.

  I smiled, enjoying just how peaceful things felt then. I could almost forget how bad things were as we sat together, enjoying both the company and food. This certainly wasn’t a typical family dinner, but in its own way, it was my kind of family dinner.

  “So, what should we do now?” Eve asked. “Could call it a night if y’all wanted.”

  “I call main spare room!”

  “Huh? You mean they are staying?”

  “Hey now, ya got us here so late, and ya got what? Three spare rooms?” Roost said. “Ya got the entire floor here, I gotta imagine ya got space for us.”

  Despite my appearances, I was never going to kick them out. It was well past 2:30 in the morning at this point, and I never kicked family out. Even if the family was a bit crazier than the usual.

  “Alright, fine, you guys can stay,” I said, sighing.

  “Good! Let’s get out the liquor! And none of that cheap shit!” Tara said.

  “Hey! Wait!” I protested.

  “Come on, Derek,” Eve smiled, pouting at me. “Let ‘em have just one drink? It’ll be their knockout medicine.”

  I sighed, not being able to say no to Eve. I just also knew all too well that it would not be one drink. Not when Roost was involved, and who knew how much Tara drank?

  The answer, twenty minutes later, was “a shitton.”

  I glanced over at Roost and Tara, snoring loudly against each other on the other side of the couch. Eve had moved to sit beside me after we had gotten the drinks and I glanced over at her, raising my eyebrow.

  “One drink, huh?” I whispered.

  “Alright, I had no idea that Roost and Tara were going to get into a drinking match,” she said.

  “Fair enough,” I said, laughing and glanced over at them. “They’d be a cute couple.”

  “I suppose in their own way, yeah,” she agreed and glanced over at me. “Of course, Roost would have to like girls, and I don’t think Tara would be his type.”

  “Not in the slightest,” I said with a laugh as she curled up on my arm. “That just leaves us then. Shall we get to bed?”

  “Bed sounds perfect,” she said.

  Even with everything that had happened, I slept better than ever. It really did feel like I had a new family.

  This was what I had to fight for. This is what I had to be smart for. This is what I had to live for.

  6

  Eve

  I could already tell that last night had helped Derek a lot.

  Though I had told him that I wanted Tara and Matty over to “punish” him, I had actually invited them over to help him relax a little. With how crazy things had been going, he needed some down time between everything else. If it gave him a sense of comfort, a sense of well-being, and a sense of relief to have his closest friends—or at least his most entertaining ones—over, then all the better.

  It seemed to have paid off.

  I was also glad to see that he was looking at things more logically and carefully. I had been worried he’d go and get himself killed trying to do everything himself, but last night he told Roost he wouldn’t be working alone anymore. And, as an added benefit, having a relaxed Derek made for a more relaxed me.

  Who would’ve guessed?

  After a lengthy and satisfying stretch from one of the best night sleeps I’d had in some time, I slid out of bed. I was happy to see Derek was still sleeping, and I wanted to make an effort to keep it that way.

  I leaned in, offering a light kiss to his forehead—one of the few times I was careful about how I kissed him—and then turned towards the master bathroom. I hurried to finish my morning routine—brushing my teeth and hair, getting made up, and then getting dressed. I had a plan for the day, and I wanted to move as fast as I could to get things started.

  Mostly, I just had to keep Derek in his state of sleep. It was a race against his REM cycle.

  I headed to the kitchen when I heard the familiar refrain of two of my favorite people getting along by arguing.

  “I’m tellin’ ya, scrambled is better!” Matty said, his voice a loud whisper.

  “I dunno what your boyfriends are teachin’ you, fag, but sunny side up is the way to do it. Run the yolk out, dip your meat in it—not that type of meat—and enjoy!” Tara retorted, her voice restrained but still much louder.

  “Ya would like sunny side up, whore. Everything’s up with ya.”

  “And you like ‘em scrambled, just like the asses you eat!”

  I had to stifle a giggle as I stood near the entrance, careful not to reveal myself too early. They obviously thought both of us were still asleep and were making an effort not to be too loud, and the effort it took for either of them to operate in any semblance of silence was like watching a giraffe stagger across a tightrope. It was rare, strange, and nothing short of awe-inspiring.

  “I can’t handle yer shit right now,” Matty said with a loud groan. “It’s yer sorry ass that got me to drink tequila like it was gonna dry up.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know 300 pounds made ya a lightweight with booze!”

  “Only thing lightweight’s gonna be my hands, cuz yer gonna carry out all the shit from here.”

  “Over my dead body!”

  “Oh, heavens,
” Matty said.

  Feeling the tension rising, I decided enough was enough.

  “Morning,” I said with a pep in my voice, stepping in.

  They both jumped at my entrance and then tried to make a show of notbeing startled as I took a seat at the island table that separated the kitchen from the dining room. I just wore a cute smile as they almost began to sweat in desperation at what they might have done.

  “Sleep well?” I asked, pretending to not notice for their benefit.

  “Would’ve if this slut here didn’t drool all over me last night,” Roost said, sticking his thumb out in Tara’s direction.

  “Yeah, well you ain’t any better, you gross faggot!” Tara growled, smacking his arm. “Fucking snoring and farting all goddam night long. Swear to fucking Christ, Eve, the absolute—the abso-fucking-lute—worst gas ever. Ever. Fucking ever! We’re talking off-the-fucking-charts toxic, ‘blow the fucking meter right off the wall’ levels of rank. I was surprised the Feds didn’t bust in with HAZMAT suits, fully-automatics leveled and at the ready, certain that the motherfucking terroristshadn’t snuck some new and heinous sort of bio-chemical warfare onto US soil.”

  Matty and I looked at her with wide eyes. Even by Tara standards, this was a truly epic rant, far beyond even her most passionate ones.

  “Tell me how ya really feel, Jesus,” Matty said, more stunned than annoyed.

  “The point being,” she said, working her voice to offer a professional summarizing tone that had me convinced she’d make an excellent on-air reporter. “This guy farts in his sleep. Roost, ya got anything to say?”

  Matty did nothing to argue this rant.

  He did nothing to deny its contents. He did not show any sign of embarrassment.

  Moreover, he did not show any signs of remorse.

  Matty, in fact, showed a grin of pure and unbridled pride and joy, offered a chuckle that seemed more appropriate as a rolling purr from a big cat, and folded his arms over his chest. In that moment, he looked downright victorious. And while I would never pretend to even want to join such a competition, there was something incredibly hilarious about seeing Matty’s victorious expression.

  “Had leftover ‘Nitro-Wings’ fer breakfast yesterday,” he announced. “An’ I was holdin’ ‘em in all dayjust fer ya, darlin.’ And I didn’t even realize we’d be sharing a couch! The good lord couldn’t’a planned it better!”

  “Fucking faggot,” Tara groused, shaking her head. “How’s a used-up butthole like that still got enough tightness to bust out those cement-cracking things, anyway?”

  Matty loosed a second wave of laughter at that. I just tried not to laugh, in disbelief at how these two not only seemed to have no boundaries, they flaunted and danced on whatever line most people had.

  “Charming,” I said, afraid that all the noise might wake Derek.

  I tried to hold back my own laughter. I really did.

  But I failed.

  By some strange miracle, Derek didn’t emerge at that moment.

  He must have really been tired, I thought as I started to come down from the throes of laughter.

  I finished, but my laugh-smile remained plastered with aching eagerness to my face. I couldn’t help but be glad that we were still able to have these moments even with everything that had happened. I let that thought cycle a few times in my mind, relishing in it for all that it was worth. The four of us, a true group hanging together, with all the dynamics at play—it had certainly made for one of the more entertaining nights in recent memory.

  But all good things had to end, and time waited for no one to catch up. I had to move forward.

  I got myself together and sat upright, glancing over at Matty.

  “Hey, Matty, can I ask you a favor?” I asked.

  “Anythin’ fer ya,” Matty said, flashing an extra-wide smile. “‘Specially since ya actually used my proper name. What’cha need, darlin’?”

  Smiling back—trying for something that was both a charming, all-selling smile while weeding out the vulgarity of anything erotic or seductive—I asked, “Do you think I could borrow a car today?”

  “A car?” he repeated back to me, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Fer what?”

  He hasn’t said no yet. We’ll see if that continues. That was the easy part. This…

  “I wanted to surprise Derek with a date today,” I said, embarrassed, and averted my gaze down to my hands, which were folded and stillmanaging to fidget against my best efforts. “And while I love riding with him…”

  “Heh,” Tara interrupted, grinning.

  Even Matty let out a chuckle. It was kind of funny… OK, it was funny.

  “Anyway,” I said, returning back to Matty. “I want to drive this time; actually be in control of the ‘where’ without having to tell him. That way he doesn’t know where we are going. Do you have anything? Maybe one at the shop?”

  I watched as he moved his hand to his chin, obviously considering what he could do for me. I hoped there was something, even just some old junker car would work. After all the dates Derek had taken me on, all the places he’d surprised me with, I wanted to return the favor.

  And I had the perfect place in mind.

  The beach!

  Oh my, how I lovedthe beach!

  And, much as I loved the beach, I couldn’t bring myself to lovethe memories I had of the beach, thanks to some of the more kinky Johns who got off from public sex. Well, that was going to change. I wanted to take Derek there; to create new memories of that beautiful place.

  And let’s just say I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if my contributions led to us creating a more erotic memory at the beach.

  “Alright, I think I got somethin’,” Matty finally said after a moment of thought. “But ya gotta promise that you’ll be careful with it. This particular car… well, it belonged to Derek’s dad. She’s a beauty, and I don’t wanna see her get damaged.”

  “Wow… Matty, really?”

  Matty would not have made the offer if he didn’t trust me, which spoke volumes to how he felt about me… but even still, this was an enormous responsibility. He wasn’t handing me the office van that people smoked and drank in. He was handing me something that was the equivalent of a Knight heirloom.

  “Yep, really,” he said. “But ya gotta be careful. Ya gotta promise me, Eve.”

  “I promise,” I said, smiling widely at the idea of not only using a nicecar to surprise Derek but one that he’d likely have some pleasant memories from already. “Thank you! Thank you so much, Matty!”

  “Ain’t nothin’ to it, Eve,” he said. “He… well, I’ll tell ya later. But I wouldn’ta said ya could have it if I didn’t think Derek would agree.”

  “Wow,” I said, still in disbelief. “And where, where is it?”

  Fears of “Samsville,” “somewhere way the fuck outta here,” or “I dunno” filled my mind. Fortunately, Matty didn’t keep me waiting long.

  “Why, the shop, of course.”

  “Shall we go get it now?” Tara asked. “While Prince Charming is getting his beauty rest?”

  “Ha-ha, Tara, real funny.”

  “He needs that sleep right now,” Roost said, growing more serious. “He’s gonna be goin’ on some dangerous shit soon that he gonna need full, proper mind for. We can’t—”

  “Oh, come on, Roost,” Tara said, pouting. “Don’t get all serious now!”

  A briefly tense silence filled the room as I wondered if Matty had finally, finally reached his breaking point with Tara. I had learned to tune her out when necessary, having not been separated from her for more than a few minutes over the period of six months, but it wasn’t hard to see that most people would have their limit of Tara.

  And then, as if in mocking of my fear, Matty laughed.

  “A’right, fine! Let’s go then!”

  “How are we going to all get there?” I asked, tilting my head. “I know you two rode your bike, but I don’t think walking and you being by my side would help.”<
br />
  “Well, I dunno where you’ve been,” Tara started, grinning snidely. “But they now have this fascination transportation system called taxis and Ubers. You wave down these ugly-ass yellow cars driven by smelly troll-folk who speak in grumbles and groans, and they’ll take you wherever you want to go in exchange for pussy-coin. Or, you use some phone magic to hail a ride and give them virtual pussy-coin. But, far as I can tell, everything happens in exchange for pussy-coin, so that’s nothing new.”

  Matty may not have reached his limit with Tara, but he could still look awfully dumbfounded by what she said sometimes.

  “Yer on fire today, aren’t ya?”

  “Pussy like mine? How can I not be? I’m always on fire,” Tara said, grinning wickedly. “Get to know me. I’m amazing.”

  “There ya go,” Matty said, shaking his head. “Surprised ya can hold that big ol’ head on yers scrawny little shoulders.”

  “Hey, I don’t see men complaining about my shoulders,” Tara said.

  “That’s because they aren’t staring at your shoulders, Tara,” I said, grinning at her.

  “Touché,” she said, giving one of those shoulders a shrug. “I’ll give you that one. We off then?”

  I nodded, getting up, and then paused.

  “I should write a note for Derek,” I said, reaching into my purse for a pen. “Just in case he wakes up before we get back.”

  “Good plan,” Matty said, heading towards the elevator and motioning for Tara to follow. “We’ll head down an’ see if we have any luck hailing one of of them fanciful taxis or Ubers. Whatever makes the princess happy.”

  “Now ya learnin’!” Tara said, throwing an arm around Matty.

  “Dontcha touch me,” he warned.

  I just laughed, thinking that the two bickered like two siblings—like two siblings who actually liked each other. I may have never gotten that and may have never known what such a thing was, but at least I was getting something to approximate it now. Better late than never.

  I watched as they pressed the call button for the elevator and turned away, grabbing a pad of note paper and a nearby pen that sat at the dining room table for this exact purpose. I quickly jotted down a note.