by M. Merin
Heading down the hallway, he turns and lifts me in his arms – I immediately wrap my legs around his waist and hold on tight.
“That came out wrong, Little Bit,” he says as he starts climbing the stairs. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. Fuck, I saw your face fall and it felt like a knife in me.”
“Scared me when you said it, Artem,” I whisper into his ear, holding back my tears of relief. “You really okay with trying or…”
“You calling me a liar, Betsy?” he asks as he opens his door. “Already told you I knocked you up, I’ll even pick up a test tomorrow if you don’t believe me.”
“I picked one up yesterday, actually. I was just too nervous to take it yet.”
“Get to it, Little Bit,” he smacks me on my ass and points to the bathroom. Grabbing the test from the nightstand, I do as my man says.
When I’ve followed the direction, I leave it on the sink and walk back out to join Artem. His boots and shirt are already off and he’s lying back on his bed. “Got a ride coming up in the next few days. You go into town, I want you to take a probie with you, understand?”
“Sure, but I have enough to do around here. Oh, Emma wanted me to stop by to go over the party she’s throwing us.”
“Maybe you have her wait on that until after the baby comes? That way we can celebrate everything at once?” He grins at me, so sure of this. I crawl into his arms and he simply holds me tight. When my alarm goes off, I shut it down and simply stare at the bathroom door. There will come a day I’ll have to tell any child we have that they have an older sister, that they’ll just have to trust me that I did the right thing without giving out any other information. That thought freezes me.
Russian gets up to retrieve the test, his face doesn’t change as he reads it.
“Told ya so,” he finally smirks at me.
My eyes fly to his, “’Told ya so?’ Russi…Artem, you have to fucking work on how you say things! ‘Let’s get to it’ he says. ‘Told ya so’ he says. What the helllll,” my words are cut off as he pounces on me.
“Said I’d get you pregnant, now we’re having a little piece of both of us,” he kisses me gently. “I’d like a boy first, cause you’ll give me a little porcelain doll later and I’ll need him to help me protect her. We may need to go off the grid with all my Brothers’ women popping out kids. Their sons will be sniffing around her in grade school.”
My Russian babbles to keep me from crying, to keep me focused on the joy of knowing I’ll be able to hold tight to the baby within me and the sadness I’ll always carry for the child I gave up.
“I love you,” I whisper, holding his face in my hands. “Don’t you ever doubt how much I love you.”
“I know you do, Little Bit. And I love you more than you can imagine.” At his words, I finally release the tears I’ve tried to hold back. Pushing him off of me, I remove my clothes, unzip his pants and palm his cock until it’s hard enough to slip inside of me.
I ride him slow and steady, my eyes on his. His hands on my hips, my fingers pinching my nipples. Soft moans are exchanged, but no other words are needed tonight.
Chapter 8
Russian
In the days since we’ve found out we’re expecting, Betsy and I have kept the news to ourselves – although I think that her constant humming and bright eyes may give us away.
I’ve cleared my trip with Jasper and Flint, and Wrench has armed me with all the intel he could pull. Before dawn breaks, I kiss Little Bit’s soft belly as she sleeps and head out on what she probably thinks is a standard run but she knows better than to ask me about club business. I’ve gotta couple visits to pay.
Having talked to Shade a bit, I follow his advice and take the least direct route to Betsy’s hometown. While her step-brother, Eddie, started with molesting and whoring her out, he hasn’t stopped preying on girls since. Wrench’s information shows he’s got a handful of girls he’s trained and coerced into earning for him.
Pulling up to the sleaziest strip club near the town Betsy grew up in, I quickly spot him holding court in a large booth. I stay at the bar, keeping an eye on him via the mirrors around the room, barely putting up with the flirting of the women who are sent to entice me, either trying to lure me for a dance in a back room or a longer party in the motel across the street. It turns my gut when they lean their fake tits against me, knowing the pain that would cause Betsy if she were to see it. But I won’t allow our child to take a breath in the same world he exists.
When I brush the last girl away, the bartender cuts me off – suggesting I talk to Eddie about further accommodations. I pretend to stumble drunkenly off to his booth. I had flipped my cut inside out before coming into the club so I look like an unaffiliated rider. After greeting and being invited to sit down, I immediately start talking.
“Got some important people coming to town. Need a contact around here who can supply atmosphere models,” I inject an Italian accent to my words, hoping he’ll bite.
“Where da fuck are you from? ‘Round here a whore’s a whore, not an ‘atmosphere model’,” he laughs, slapping the thigh of the girl at his side. My words have put him at ease and he signals for another beer for me.
“The men I’m scouting for will want a schedule in place and less…distasteful words used,” I say.
He sits back to study me but I can’t help but notice the size of his pupils, how his knee bounces up and down, nor the lines of blow in front of him that his eyes dart towards every few seconds. He believes he’s bulletproof here and that I’ll see his power and be intimidated.
“You staying across the way?” he asks and I nod. “Take a couple of my girls with you tonight and I’ll meet you around dawn.” I nod again. Thankful that Shade told me to pack duct tape.
By the time I’ve settled up with the bartender and made my way to the front door, there are two women waiting on me. Taking my arms, they escort me across the road to the motel. Immediately inside, they break out their tits and party goodies. I bring one into the bathroom so ‘I can watch her shower’. Slapping my hand over her mouth, I get her taped right up – mouth, wrists, and ankles – leaving her in the tub.
“Hey, sugar tits,” I walk back out to find the other girl licking remnants of powder off of a small baggie. “Let’s talk.”
Securing the second girl, I go about scaring the shit out of her with a big ass knife. Getting the information I want, I head out, removing all traces of myself from the room. I get to Eddie’s place before he gets home, and donning leather gloves to search the place for weapons and put them all in the oven. My only concern is what to do with whatever piece of ass he brings home with him, guys like that always do.
Looking around, I come across his computer and since it isn’t locked, I take that as an invite to start checking out files. Moments later I’m dialing Wrench, dragging his ass out of bed. Hardly able to tell him what I need done, he reads between the lines and gives me a website to type in that gives him access to the computer. He quickly sees what has completely enraged me – video folders. Betsy’s name is on one but there are nearly a hundred of them all labeled with different girls’ names.
“Shit, Russian. These numbers next to the names? I think they’re the girls ages. Fuck. This is going to take a little time. I have to get into all of his accounts, wipe things from the cloud and figure out where he may have posted them online. Take it all down and wipe it clean.”
“Do it. I’ll take my time with him, get you whatever passwords you need,” I swear. I only opened the earliest file with Betsy’s name on it, son of a bitch had a camera trained on her the first night he raped her. Holding her down with his hand over her mouth, he took her innocence and taunted her the entire time.
Hours later her step-brother and the bouncer from his club walk into his house. They’re both jacked up on some shit and don’t notice me in the corner. The bouncer looks around the room and gets a bullet between his eyes before his brain registers what he’s seeing. Eddie’s making so
much noise that he doesn’t hear the pfft of my silencer, only the sound of his guy hitting the floor.
“Fuck! Greg!” Eddie whines. “Get up, come on.”
“Kneel, motherfucker,” I demand. Thankfully the asshat reaches behind him, giving me an excuse to shoot his elbow off.
Approaching him with my roll of duct tape, I disarm him before wrapping his wound then securing his hands and feet. Next, I push him down to sit on top of his dead friend and Eddie starts sobbing like a child.
“Need all the sites you uploaded your shit to. Need the passwords for all of them and combinations to anywhere you have copies stored.”
“You don’t know who you’re fucking with, shit. You were supposed to OD on the crap I sent with the whores.” My fist makes contact with his cheekbone when I realize that at least one of the whores is probably dead from the junk he sent. The girl I left in the tub will hopefully look into a career change.
“I know someone you once knew. Didn’t know how badly you needed to die before I got here tonight. I don’t want any copies left. Now, let me show you how strongly I mean that.”
Then, taking a page from Gunner’s playbook, I slap some tape over his mouth and start striping the skin from Eddie’s lower leg. Finishing that, I inject him with a small amount of the H I found in his room. Fucker babbles after I tear the tape off his mouth, so I put a new piece in place and rip his toenails off. Five. Without pausing.
“Please, please stop,” he screams when I pull the second piece of tape off of his mouth. “I can pay you, you don’t need to do this.”
“I want every last drive, every account, every password.”
“You can’t, I’ll lose everything…”
“You want everything or your skin?” I cut another piece of tape off, moving to secure his mouth once more.
“At the club, the safe, all the main copies,” he wails and I pull off another toe nail.
“All the entry codes. Now.”
Leaving him hogtied and sobbing with his mouth gagged, I drive his truck back to the club he owns. Pulling a ski mask on and making sure the tats on my hands are covered, I get inside. And didn’t the stupid motherfucker have everything in one place like he promised?
Placing the explosives I’d brought in strategic places, I head back to his house with all of his drives soaking in battery acid. Clock is ticking now. I have less than three hours to make sure that Wrench has cleaned up the filth that Eddie spread, finish skinning the motherfucker and make it look like his house blew up because of a faulty meth lab.
Completely doable. I grip the steering wheel harder. I know I can trust Wrench not to look at Betsy’s files but my heart is shredded from seeing the short clip of her first time. No one should have access to that and no one should have to have endured it.
Dumb fucker even had separated bags of laced H in his safe, that’ll make my next stop easier. Pulling up to a rickety trailer, I don’t even have to knock. An elderly looking woman opens the door as I approach.
“Don’t usually get visitors as young as you,” she cackles, showing several gaps in her gum line.
“Sorry, I was looking for Susan,” I start to turn away.
“Yep, I’m her. Wasn’t expecting company but I gotta make the rent so come on in, don’t even need to use a condom, you don’t want to,” she rambles on, her eyes glassy.
My skin crawls and looking closer, I realize that this is Betsy’s mother and she can’t be any older than Bree – but that’s where any similarity ends. Any beauty she ever carried has been erased by years of abuse. I thought I might back out of this part of my mission, but really it’s a mercy killing at this point.
“Just dropping off a little gift,” I say, holding out a small bag.
She eagerly grabs it, looking around. “What’s this for?”
“Friend of mine said he owed you from last time,” I shrug, turning back towards Eddie’s truck.
“Don’t you want to join me?” she calls out. I wave a hand, never looking back. I leave to finish the rest of the job.
By the time Eddie has nearly bled out, Wrench assures me that he’s tracked down all the sites that were used. The better news is that it seems that Betsy and two of his other victims were kept for his private collection. Wrench wasn’t able to find any trace of their clips online, but he’ll keep looking to be sure.
Before I set the meth ingredients around to cover up the reason for the fire, I rip away Eddie’s bindings. He’s not strong enough to get away at this point.
“Betsy’s my woman, you son of a bitch, and this was way overdue,” I say and his eyes widen in surprise, right before I stomp his head with my heavy boot.
Chapter 9
Betsy
Bliss.
It’s the only word that describes the past five months of my life. Russian and I waited until I was past my first trimester to announce that I’m pregnant and everyone has been so supportive. The probies helped us moved into Bree’s apartment the day after Jake, Connal, and Charlie moved out. The privacy that’s given us has kept Russian and Vice from murdering each other. Almost.
“I promised Artem I wouldn’t talk to Vice, Amy, but I’m sick of him coming home with torn up knuckles,” I sigh, working on tomorrow’s egg casseroles for the men’s breakfast.
“Vice is the one egging Russian on, Bets. If you go talking to him, Russian’ll just get more pissed off.” Amy’s right, I know she is, but something’s gotta give here.
“What do you think about me talking to Flint, then? Let him figure out what to do?”
Amy thinks about that for a moment as she breaks more eggs into the mixer. “Talk to Bree, but not Flint. That way it’ll just be us girls talking and Russian won’t think you went around his back in any way.”
“Brilliant,” I smile over at her. “Thanks for helping me with these, with the new probies and now the two guys transferring in, there are a lot more mouths to feed around here. Well, at least since the others started moving out with their Ol’ Ladies.”
“Yourself included!” Amy cheers me on again and my cheeks pinken. Before Russian and I settled down together, I was probably closest to Amy – working on parties and things around here. But now we’re pretty much inseparable. I’ve never had a close girlfriend before and with my pregnancy on top of moving out with Russian, she’s been great to me.
“So, you’re friends with the Sheriff, right?” I ask, wanting to get scoop on my OB/GYN.
“Yep, his sister was my best friend. I was an only child and was just always over at their house, or she was at mine.” She confirms.
“Dr. Forsythe seems really straight-laced? What do you think of her?”
“I think she grew up in a completely different world than we did. That sometimes she comes across as judgmental, when she’s just trying to wrap her head around what us normal people accept with the shrug of a shoulder,” Amy gives a typical Amy answer, always seeing the best in people. “But what do you think of her as your doctor? Are you comfortable with her?”
“Yeah, actually I am. I was nervous around her at first but she explains everything likes she’s really talking to me as a person and doesn’t do that thing where doctors use terms no one understands. So, it’s like she really cares about me, you know?” I shrug without getting into the details with Amy. Russian is the only one who I’ve spoken to about the child I gave up for adoption and I was real nervous about talking about it with the doctor.
“Got any coffee?” comes Hawk’s voice from the doorway.
“Fresh pot right there,” I nod my head towards the restaurant-sized coffee urn. “No work today?”
“Club business for me,” he grimaces at the strength of the coffee and crosses to get some ice cubes. “Damn, Betsy. Liked your coffee better before you hooked up with Russian. Now, we all gotta suffer his taste, I guess.” Hawk’s easy smile takes the bite out of his words.
“Who’s taste?” Vice asks coming into the room. Amy and Hawk’s eyes float uncomfortably between
us as Vice goes to get his own coffee. “Fuck, that’s strong.”
I turn back to the stove and pull the bacon from the oven, quickly chopping it and adding it evenly to the casserole dishes.
“What, your keeper’s not letting you to speak to me anymore, Betsy?” Vice crosses the kitchen, coming up right behind me. “Where’s that pretty cut of yours today, baby?”
My eyes flicker over to where I had laid it, knowing how hot it gets in here. I try to figure out how to answer him without making everything worse when I hear Flint’s low voice behind us.
“Vice,” he starts and I can feel Vice spin away from me. “Getting pretty fucking sick of this shit you’re pulling.” I finally turn and see Roy, Vice’s uncle, standing right beside the old President of the MC.
“What? Just catching up with an old girl of mine,” Vice shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee.
“She ain’t your concern anymore,” Roy speaks up and Vice nearly flinches. Roy took him in and raised him when he didn’t have anyone else, so I know how much gravity Vice gives his words. “That man of hers ain’t either.”
“You’re causing too much…unrest around here. Back the fuck off Betsy and Russian or I’ll strip your title, you hearing me?” Flint speaks his piece, in his usual low, calm voice. Vice nods once before dumping his coffee in the sink and leaving the room. I started shaking at some point, and quick to notice it, Amy reaches over to hold my hand.
I call out to Roy and Flint as they turn to follow. Roy keeps going but Flint turns back to me. “Thank you,” I whisper.
Flint nods at me before following Roy. “You’re family, Betsy. Even before you were claimed, you were family.”
Hawk lets out a whistle and putting his cup in the sink, tugs my ponytail and gives me a big grin. “Catch you both later.”
“Guess you don’t need to corner Bree now, do ya?” Amy smiles at me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got to head out, are you ok?”
