by Lane Hart
“But I’m not a salesman or an accountant. Their old ladies don’t have to worry about retaliation landing on their doorstep if a business deal goes bad.”
“True,” Sasha agrees. “But those old ladies must be bored out of their fucking minds with their lame ass husbands.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have a life to live with a boring husband than one that gets cut short too soon because of the bad boy’s lifestyle?”
Sitting up in bed, Sasha distracts me with her naked swaying breasts before she asks, “Do you not know me at all? You and I aren’t that different. The reason you joined the MC as soon as you turned eighteen was because you looked up to your uncle and wanted the excitement he had in his life rather than the calm one your father has, right?”
I consider that for a moment, thinking back to the reasons I joined the MC. I missed my brother. And I didn’t have many friends because I was an asshole who could barely keep from flunking out of high school before I finally dropped out after our wreck. The MC offered me a place I felt like I belonged when I didn’t fit in anywhere else.
“My uncle was a bad ass, and I liked the idea of the brotherhood,” I admit.
“And you didn’t want a boring life…”
“And I didn’t want a boring life or a boring wife,” I stubbornly admit, pulling her back down on my chest. Thinking about the camaraderie of the MC reminds me of our group ride to the cemetery. Even though I’m scared shitless of putting her on the back of my bike, I want her arms around me on a day like the one coming up. That’s why I ask Sasha, “Will you ride with me tomorrow to the funeral?”
“Of course,” she answers right away.
“I mean on my bike,” I clarify.
“Again, the answer is, of course, Chase. I’ve been dying to ride with you again.”
“Don’t use that word,” I warn her.
“Sorry,” she says with a cringe. “I would love to ride with you tomorrow, and for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be. I will never have any regrets when it comes to being with you.”
“You say that now…” I start.
“And I’ll say it until the day I die,” Sasha assures me. “Will you ever regret joining the MC?”
“Hell no,” I answer without even needing to think about it.
With a pat on my chest, she says, “That’s exactly how I feel about you, baby. My only regret is that we spent ten lonely years apart. Oh, and that you never took me to our senior prom. I would’ve loved to have seen you just once in a tux, dancing with me. That’s it, though, the only regrets I’ll ever have when it comes to you. So it’s time for you to quit fighting it and accept the fact that I’m your old lady and I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sasha
Today will go down as one of the most emotional of my life, which tells you just how powerful a presence Kennedy was in this town and to the MC.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Chase says as he stands in front of me wearing his jeans and cut with a helmet in his hands. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”
“Put it on me, Chase. Everyone’s waiting for us,” I say as I glance around the Savage Asylum parking lot where all the original charter members are sitting on their bikes, ready to ride.
With a heavy sigh, Chase finally places the helmet on my head. And then, with shaking fingers, he fastens the chin strap and tightens it.
“Thank you,” I tell him, meaning not just for making sure my head is protected but for finally pushing aside his fear to let me ride with him.
He gives me a quick kiss and then grabs his helmet to get himself ready.
Rather than wear a dress, I’m in a black pants suit to make riding easier. I throw a leg over the seat and wait for Chase to join me.
First, he walks over to Torin, who is sitting on his bike. He stayed at the farmhouse with War and the prospects keeping an eye on him yesterday but also giving him space. Chase is trying to do the same, even though he would rather be by his brother’s side all day and night.
“You sure you want to ride?” Chase asks Torin. “Turtle can drive you…”
“No,” Torin answers. “I need to do this on my bike.”
“Okay,” Chase says, wrapping him in a back-thumping embrace before he comes back to his bike. “Ready?” he asks me.
I nod even though no one is ever ready to go to a funeral, especially one as difficult as today's.
Finally, Chase climbs on, and I wrap my arms tightly around his waist. He reaches down and grabs my right hand to kiss the top of it and then, flipping it over, kisses his name before putting it back around his waist.
Everyone waits for Torin to crank his bike before they all do the same. Then, their president pulls out first, followed by Chase and then the rest of their brothers in the lot.
There are hundreds of bikes lined up on either side of the strip for at least a mile to show their respects to Torin and Kennedy. The sight sends goosebumps up and down my arms because I’ve never seen anything like it. All these men, and a few women riding with them, are all hurting too.
The bikes on the street come roaring to life behind us after the original charter passes by. I can feel the rumble of the engines all the way through my soul.
Most riders stay on their bikes when we stop at the cemetery, because that would be too many boots stomping around on graves. There’s a white tent set up with several chairs and a garden full of flowers underneath. Kelsey, Kennedy’s sister, and her two men are already seated. They stand up to look out at the sea of bikes on the road in awe.
Torin walks up and hugs Kelsey tight before the two of them exchange a few tearful words. And then Torin takes a seat next to her, with Chase on his other side and me holding his hand beside him. The rest of the chairs fill up quickly, and the rest of the men stand behind them as we all face the silver casket in front of us. It remains closed, probably because the sight of the mother holding her child would only make this more difficult.
After the preacher says a few words, each of the members who came to the graveside line up to pick a white rose out of a loose bouquet. Pressing a soft kiss on the petals, they place their rose one at a time on top of the casket.
…
Chase
I keep looking over at my brother, waiting for him to lose his shit. Honestly, I don’t really know what to expect from a man who has lost his old lady and kid in one fell swoop.
Two days ago, he was tearing down his house. Yesterday, he isolated himself from War and the prospects at the farmhouse. They said they didn’t even see his face until this morning before they left for the bar. Torin’s like a ticking time bomb that we all know is going to go off; we just don’t know when it will happen or what form it will take.
He doesn’t say much before the funeral or during it. He simply stares at the casket as if he can’t look away. As they begin to lower it into the ground, the spell breaks and Torin jumps to his feet and turns to me.
“When do we ride?” he asks with a clenched jaw.
“As soon as you’re ready to go, we’ll follow you back to the bar,” I tell him as I get to my feet with Sasha’s hand still holding mine. I’m still not completely recovered from the tense ride here with her on the back of my bike. We survived, despite how scrambled up my guts feel.
“No, when do we ride?” he asks, meaning for Hector.
“Soon,” I say, glancing over to Kennedy’s sister and men and back to Torin to remind him that we can’t talk about that here and now.
“I have to do something,” he says.
“I know that,” I tell him quietly. “We’re meeting when we get back to discuss the details.”
“Good,” he says. “I won’t sleep until I’m putting Hector in one of those caskets.”
I nod my agreement, and then Torin strolls off down the grassy hill toward the bikes, barely speaking to anyone along the way.
After saying goodbye to Kelsey, I pull Sasha toward my bike.
&n
bsp; “He’s gonna be expecting retaliation,” she whispers, low enough that only I will hear her. “Hector’s not stupid. He’ll assume that you all are coming for him.”
“I know,” I agree, having thought about that myself.
“You should wait until he thinks he’s safe and catch him off guard.”
“You know we can’t do that,” I tell her. “Torin wants to go right this second. How am I supposed to convince him to wait while the man who killed his wife and kid is still wandering the streets?”
“I don’t know,” Sasha says. “Killing him won’t bring her back or erase the pain. Torin must know that.”
“He does,” I agree. “And you’re right, ending Hector won’t bring Kennedy back or make him forget how much he misses her. But it’ll make him think he feels like he did something for her when there’s nothing else to be done.”
When we reach my bike, I quickly secure Sasha’s helmet on her because I know Torin’s about to head back.
“We survived the ride here. Think we can try our luck and make it back?” I say, only half joking.
“I told you, baby, our suffering is over. We’re gonna be fine,” Sasha says.
Since we don’t have time to debate that now, I get on my bike and pull away behind Torin as soon as Sasha’s arms go around my waist.
While it’s terrifying, it also feels pretty damn good having her ride with me again.
Chapter Thirty
Chase
“It’s good to see so many of you here and ready to do whatever it takes to seek vengeance for Kennedy,” I say to the group around the table and the dozens of men packed in standing. Torin is one of them, refusing to sit in his seat at the table. Several members have noticed, casting curious glances at him and me when neither of us takes the seat at the head of the table.
“While the prudent thing to do may be to sit back and wait for Hector to relax before we hit him, that’s not our way. We’re gonna go at him savagely tonight, knowing the risks while, at the same time, having the certainty that he won’t stand a chance against our show of force.”
The guys grunt and cheer their agreement.
“Now, here’s our plan,” I start. “We’ll need our brothers from Virginia to set up a roadblock to the north of Hector’s headquarters, Tennessee to the left, and South Carolina to our south, just like the map. Our Emerald Isle charter will come in first from the east, followed by the rest of our forty or so brothers from around our home state who will block up that part of town for us once we’re inside. We’re gonna hit Hector and his men hard and fast while trying to keep any unarmed women out of the line of fire. Anyone who shoots at you is a target. Roy and Ben from our Charlotte charter will stay here at the clubhouse with Reece who is gonna take out any cameras or recordings in Hector’s establishment remotely. For once, we ask that you leave your cuts here in case other cameras see us. Keep your masks on or bandanas around your face at all times, so we can keep track of who the good guys are. Any questions?” I ask.
When there are none, I continue. “Some of us may not come home, some of us may find ourselves wearing orange jumpsuits in new homes. We’ve got an attorney on speed dial to handle the latter; may your soul rest in peace on the former. You can be assured that the MC will provide for the families of anyone we lose.”
“Who’s ready to ride?” I ask, and the shouts and yells of so many men is nearly deafening. “We leave in two hours, gentlemen. Until then, gas up, eat your fill, load your guns and fuck your women like it’s your last night, because it damn well may be.”
With a slam of the gavel, everyone starts filing out of the room as fast as possible. Myself included.
…
Sasha
One second I’m standing in the empty kitchen, and the next, men are pouring in like starving beasts, grabbing anything and everything they can.
“What in the world…” I start. When I step out into the bar, it’s like a freaking orgy. I’ve never seen so many white asses in my life. “What’s going on?” I ask Maddox, one of the prospects, who is standing in the front of the room, mouth gaping, eyes bulging.
“Beats the fuck out of me, but I can’t wait to be a part of it,” he replies.
I don’t get a chance to respond before my feet leave the floor and then I’m being hauled out the front door.
“Chase?” I yell, to make sure it’s his ass I’m looking at.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” the voice I recognize as his, thankfully, asks.
“Where are we going?”
“To my bike.”
“Are we going somewhere?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he replies. Slapping my ass, he says, “You’re going for a ride on my cock.”
That sounds good to me. It’s pretty dark out already, but there are enough streetlights and members around that it’s highly likely someone will see us. At least we won’t have to worry about drive-bys. All those bikes from the funeral are parked up and down the street, only leaving enough room for other bikes to get through.
Finally, the world returns to the upright position as Chase sets me down on the back of his bike. He follows, facing me instead of the handlebars.
Throwing my legs over the top of his, I hop up onto his lap and moan when I feel his thick bulge between my legs.
“Is that all for me?” I ask as I wind my arms around his neck.
“Hell yes,” he agrees, capturing my lips with his while his hands jerk my shorts down my hips. “Now, pull my cock out so I can give it to you.”
Needing him so much I can’t wait any longer, I unzip his pants and pull his shaft out while stroking his hot flesh so that I can feel him get even harder in my grip.
Chase pulls at my shorts and panties until he’s able to get them off one of my legs; then he grabs my ass cheeks to lift me up in the air. I line up his cock and lower myself down on it, stretching to take every inch until I can’t take any more.
“God, you feel amazing,” I tell him as I bury my face in his neck.
“Give me your mouth, sweetheart,” he says, so I lean back and let him kiss me, slow and deep, plunging his tongue in and out of my mouth in the same rhythm as he rocks me on his lower body. It’s not rough or fast like yesterday. Tonight, Chase is taking his time, savoring every second.
“Someone could see us. It makes this even hotter,” I tell him, making him freeze. “What?” I ask.
“You said that the night of the wreck,” he points out.
“Well, it's just as true now as it was then. There are a lot of people around,” I reply. “But that’s okay, baby.”
“No, no,” he says as she shakes his head. “This is all like déjà vu.”
“You brought me out to your bike, remember?” I ask.
“We need to go inside,” Chase says.
“What? No. Let’s finish what we’ve already started,” I tell him as I run my hands down the sides of his face and buck my hips to remind him he’s still inside of me.
“We’re leaving in a few hours to go after Hector,” he tells me, making my chest burn.
“You are?” I ask.
“This is the only way for you to be safe,” Chase says.
“And after he’s gone, then you’ll find someone else to worry about as a threat. This whole issue is never going to end.”
“Yes, it will,” he argues. “We’ll take out Hector, and everything will go back to the way it was around here.”
“Or you could end up in prison or worse…”
“That won’t happen,” he assures me. “I’ll come back to you. Before you wake up in the morning, I’ll have my arms around you in bed.”
“Everyone is going?” I ask.
“Yes, except for the prospects and Reece. They’ll stay here along with two out of towners.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling–” I start to say, but Chase puts his finger to my lips.
“Don’t fucking say that,” he warns. “This will be easy. There are so many of us that Hector could have an army and we
would still take his ass out in a matter of minutes.”
Looking at his face, I see how worried he is and know that I don’t need to make it worse. He needs me to be supportive. So, I tell him, “Yeah. You’re right. Good always wins out over evil, doesn’t it?”
“This may be the only situation where we’re the good guys,” he says. “But yes, we’re gonna fucking win.”
“Then, if everything is all figured out, why did you stop fucking me?” I ask.
Chase grabs my hips and lifts them high enough to slam me back down on his cock so hard my eyes roll back in my head.
“Keep going,” I tell him as I tighten my arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible in case he’s wrong.
Actually, I’m almost certain he’s wrong and that tonight is gonna be a catastrophe.
But I won’t tell Chase that.
Instead, I’ll enjoy every second I have with him in case I don’t get any more.
Chapter Thirty-One
Chase
The highway doesn’t feel nearly as peaceful tonight as it usually does. It’s a short ride; and with every mile, I second-guess our decision to do this tonight.
I know something’s not right when we pull up to Hector’s pool hall and it’s pitch black, not a single light on. At this time of night, it should be full, like our bar, with people gambling, drinking and getting fucked up on his drugs.
Torin, me and the rest of our crew back our bikes into spots right in front of the building and kill our engines.
“What the fuck do you think he’s up to?” I ask Torin.
“No clue,” he replies as he looks around with a soldier’s eyes searching for the ambush or whatever else Hector has set up for us.
“Maybe the pussy got scared, tucked tail and ran,” Abe suggests from his bike that’s parked on the other side of mine.
