by Jacie Lennon
“Yes,” I say.
“Yes, what?” he asks.
“Yes, Master,” I retort, a smile on my face, and he growls.
“My name, Peyton. Say my name,” he whispers against my ear before biting down.
“Yes, Brock,” I say.
He growls again before plunging me back down, thrusting in and out of me as he falls over my body, his hand working my clit and sending me over the edge. His jerky movements let me know that he’s coming, too, and I smile, deliriously satisfied at how this night has ended.
24
Brock
I might have treated last night like the Last Supper. I selfishly wanted another taste of her before she possibly never speaks to me again.
I don’t ask for her permission to contact Drake. Maybe I should, but I don’t. This is something I need to take care of for myself. I don’t care if the child is Drake’s. Peyton belongs to me, and as long as she never finds out who the father is, we never have to face that fact. Drake is dangerous, and Peyton can’t have him hanging over her head for the rest of her life. I don’t get why he’s so interested in trying to keep her. It doesn’t make any sense to me.
After I got back to my room last night, I already had a message from Derek with Drake’s number attached. I mulled the idea over the entire school day; it made me anxious and put me off my game.
The guys looked at me weird when I bailed on lunch, but I couldn’t eat.
Now, as I sit here, staring at the number on my phone, I take a deep breath, run one hand through my hair, and hit Call.
“What?” comes the gruff answer after the third ring.
I drum my fingers against my desktop in my room.
“Drake, it’s Brock,” I say, shutting my eyes. “I have a proposition for you.”
I think back over the information that was in the message—a link to a file with all of the Lions’ dealings, business partners, and enemies. Derek said there was more to come, but I think I have enough to go on for the time being. I’m going to offer my services in exchange for him giving up Peyton. I don’t think it will be easy, but I’m finding out nothing worth having comes easy.
“I’m listening,” Drake says, sounding a little more interested.
“Can we meet?”
“Compound, at—”
“No, I’m not coming to the compound. I’m not a fuckin’ idiot,” I say, fighting the urge to hang up right then.
This will either go great or absolutely fucking horrible. There’s no in-between.
“Fine, Marianne’s at nine—you know the place?” He’s gruff again, and I can’t blame him. This won’t be easy for either of us.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. Come alone.” I hang up and sit back in my chair, heaving a sigh.
What the hell am I doing?
“Where are you going?” Bodhi asks from behind me, and I jerk around.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” I ask, eyeing him and Corbin as they stand there, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
“Trying to keep secrets again?” Corbin spits, and I know he’s angry.
They have a right to be angry. I guess I try too hard to shoulder all the responsibility for everything and keep them out of it, but I can’t do that anymore.
“No,” I say with a sigh, leaning forward in the chair to rub my temples. “I called Drake to set up a meeting.”
“Why?” Bodhi cocks his head to the side, but his eyes light up with something I don’t like. He’s always been the more daring twin, getting high on adrenaline and other things, and now, this seems risky to put him in this situation.
“I asked Derek to drag up some information on the Lions, anything that could be helpful to get us out of this mess.”
“You do know that letting go of Peyton will get you out of this mess, right?” Bodhi asks, turning his desk chair around backward and sitting on it, letting his arms dangle over the back of it.
“That’s not an option,” I say, slamming one hand on my thigh and leveling him with a glare.
“I know,” he says, his smirk in place. “I wanted to see what we were working with here. My bro has finally been bitten by the bug.”
“The bug?” I wrinkle my brow in confusion.
“I swear, if you say the lovebug, Bodhi, we are kicking you out of this room,” Corbin mutters, and I sit back, hands behind my head.
“The lovebug,” Bodhi confirms. “Never thought it would happen. You got a cold heart.”
“I don’t have a cold heart,” I say, shaking my head.
“You are a little harder to crack,” Corbin confirms.
“Whatever. Back to what I was saying,” Bodhi says, slicing one hand through the air. “The lovebug has snuck in and bitten you on the nuts, and you are a goner.”
“Why does it bite the nuts?” I say with a snort, and then I cringe as I imagine a bug biting my boys.
“That’s where you feel it, man,” Bodhi says, waxing poetic. “Girls always talk about their chest hurting or some shit, but we men feel it down deeper. Don’t tell me your balls don’t draw up when you think about her.”
“I’m not sure that’s correct, but I don’t have the energy to debate you on it.” I stand and walk to my bed, falling on it with a groan. “Anyway, I’m not in love. I care about her, and I don’t want her to have to go back to him.”
“Why don’t you want her to go back to him?”
“Um, because he’s a dickbag asshole and he doesn’t deserve her.”
“Admit it,” Bodhi says.
“Admit what?”
“That you love her.”
“I don’t,” I say and grunt as he takes a flying leap and lands on top of me.
“Admit it, admit it, admit it,” he says, gripping my cheeks in his hands and squeezing them. He’s like a child who won’t quit.
“Get the fuck off me,” I bellow, and he squeezes harder.
I buck my hips, and he falls forward, laughing as he rolls off to lie beside me on the bed. It reminds me of when we were younger, and he would have nightmares after Mom left. I would crawl in his bed and lie beside him until he fell back asleep. I might be the younger twin, but Bodhi has always needed me. And I need him. I curl my hand into a fist and lightly hit his hand with it, and he does the same back to me. I hear another bed squeak as Corbin lands on it, and the room goes silent.
“So, what did Derek find?” Bodhi asks, and I take a deep breath.
“The Lions are hemorrhaging money. They spend more than they take in, and they are hurting. They’ve entered into some sort of agreement with a motorcycle club a state over, running firearms back and forth, but the other MC is notoriously crooked. There’s bad blood between them, and they are trying to get out from under them, but they can’t because they need the money.”
“So, what are you going to do? Go in and buy out their contract with the other MC?” Corbin asks, and I snort.
“Like there’s a contract. No, I’m going to offer to keep a steady stream of money coming in for them if they agree to take down the hit and leave Peyton alone. They can take care of their problem with the other MC on their own. I won’t get in the middle of that. But we have the leverage, offering them a way out of their money problems.”
“You know it won’t be that easy. How do you know that it’s not a setup and he’s not bringing someone to kill you? Or to kill you himself? He’s a shady motherfucker.” Bodhi slams one fist down on the bed.
“Of course he’s going to bring someone, but I think he’s curious enough to see what I want to not kill me on first sight. I think the hit he put on me is only for looks. He wants to scare me.”
“You don’t think the hit is real? Have you lost your mind? They are the Lions and have made people disappear for less,” Bodhi says.
“How would you even know?” I rise on my elbows and glance down at him.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not letting you go by yourself,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me, and I smirk back at him.
“Me ne
ither,” Corbin pipes up from his bed, and I glance at him before looking back at my brother.
“Good,” I say, and Bodhi widens his gaze in surprise.
“You aren’t going to try to stop me?” he asks.
“What’s the point? Has me trying ever worked in the past?” I shrug a little and lie back down.
“Nope, damn straight. Corbin, you in?” Bodhi asks, and I hear a grunt.
“Already said I was.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” Bodhi says, jumping up onto his knees and then vaulting himself over me and onto the floor. “Stuck the landing. I should have been a gymnast.”
“You would look good in a leotard,” Corbin says, and Bodhi doubles over in laughter.
“Probably would make my junk look good,” he says with a little hip thrust, and we all laugh.
“I’m thinking we should invite Mooney along. Always good to have a little backup with firepower,” I say, and Corbin pins me with a calculating look.
“Does Peyton know what you are planning?” he asks, and I hold back a grimace.
I know that this is risky, even beyond risky, but I think it might work.
“No, and neither of you are going to tell her.”
“Didn’t she ask you not to interfere?” Corbin asks, and I want to growl.
I understand that I’m about to get myself into deep shit with her and with my life, but I can’t let her be unprotected. I protect what’s mine.
Mine.
I consider her mine now. My stomach drops when I realize that after this meeting, she might not ever be mine. But I can’t let her be Drake’s either. My mind is made up.
“Yeah, she did, but this is for her own good.”
“Be careful with that thinking. They don’t like their minds to be made up for them,” Corbin warns, and I know what he means. With everything he went through with Landry at the beginning of their relationship, I’m sure he’s a little gun shy.
“I’m not making her mind up for her. She can go back to him if she wants. But I don’t think she wants to. So, I’m going to make it a little easier for him to let her go.”
“The way you rationalize your decisions is scary,” Corbin says with a chuckle. “But I’m at your side for whatever goes down. Don’t you think bringing Mooney into this will alert Peyton that much quicker?”
“I don’t know. It seems smart to have backup.” I shrug and try not to think about the guilt clawing its way up my insides.
I probably should tell Peyton what we are doing. I know I said I wouldn’t get involved, but the plain fact is that I already am. And I’d rather her be free of that douche bag than still be in danger.
“Well, they can’t see him. He did shoot at Drake not too long ago.” Bodhi brings up a good point.
“Be ready at eight, boys. We’ve got work to do.” I slap my hands together and grimace.
I can’t wait to see the look on that fucker’s face when I offer him what he needs and I take what he wants.
25
Brock
It’s eight thirty, and I’m sitting with my boys in the familiar alleyway of Mooney’s, trying to relax and calm my vibrating adrenaline. I don’t think this will go down well. And we need to be prepared.
“Dude, calm down,” Bodhi says as he slaps his hand over my fingers drumming on the dashboard.
“I am calm,” I say, and he shoots me a look. “Okay, I’m not calm. Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Corbin says from the backseat.
“Shut up,” I growl and turn slightly to look at him. “Did you tell Landry what we are doing?”
“Yes, we don’t keep secrets—unlike someone I know.” He narrows his eyes at me, and I roll mine.
“Did you tell her to keep her mouth shut?”
“Uh, do I look like I want to get kicked in the nuts?”
“Tell her what I said,” I say before turning back around, resuming my tapping.
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Corbin says, and then there’s quiet until he pipes up again.
“Hey, babe,” he says, and I glance in the rearview mirror to see he’s on the phone. “I wanted to call and tell you that Brock is having explosive diarrhea—” He cuts off as I launch myself over the console and on top of him.
I wrench the phone from his grasp as he starts laughing, gasping for breath. I look at the phone and realize he didn’t even call her.
“Jackass,” I mutter and try to finagle my long body back over the console before I give up, open the side door, and crawl over Corbin to get out.
The alleyway door opens as I’m hanging over Corbin, and Mooney steps out, carrying a bag and staring at me as I try to maneuver and get both feet on the ground. He pauses for a moment and then shakes his head.
“I don’t want to know,” he mutters as he waits for me to move out of the way so he can get in.
I shut the door after he climbs in and then rake one hand through my hair as I let out a loud sigh.
Fuck.
“So, what’s the plan?” Mooney asks as soon as we drive out of the alley, keeping to side roads so I don’t get spotted by anyone I don’t want seeing me.
“We are meeting with Drake and whoever he brings. You are staying in the car as backup,” I say, glancing in the rearview mirror at him.
He scowls but doesn’t say anything.
“What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?” Mooney asks.
“My goal is to give Drake an offer he can’t refuse. Found out the Lions have money trouble and are having to rely on another MC for help. I’m sure they don’t want to be living like that, so I’m going to offer financial assistance in return for their promise to leave me and Peyton alone.”
Mooney harrumphs in the backseat, and I look at him again in the mirror.
“Problem?”
“You’re assuming that Drake has any sway over what the Lions do. He’s a prospect, not even patched in. Why meet with him?”
“I don’t want to meet with someone who will immediately stick a gun in my face and pull the trigger. I think Drake will listen because I have something he wants.”
“What, money?” Corbin asks.
“Peyton. But that will quickly morph into money if all goes according to plan.”
“Which it never does,” Bodhi says under his breath.
“I don’t think you should use Peyton as a bargaining chip,” Corbin says, and I sigh, wanting to bang my head on the damn steering wheel.
“I’m not fucking using her as a bargaining chip. I’m merely letting Drake choose money over her, and then she’s ultimately safer without him on her tail all the time.” I can feel my fingers locking up from where I’m squeezing them so hard.
“But you—” Corbin starts, but I throw a hand up.
“I get that you don’t agree with my methods, so it’s a good thing it’s not your problem,” I growl.
“It’s my problem now that I’m about to meet with that douche bag with you,” Corbin mutters.
“You are welcome to get out anytime,” I say, jerking the car to the side of the road and stopping.
We all sit in silence, and when no one moves, I wrench the car back out into the road, temper flaring. I get that they don’t agree with me not telling Peyton, and yeah, that part might blow up in my face. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take when the outcome could save her from a life of probably horror with the Portleys. But who knows? My mom chose that life, too, and she’s never come running back, not even when Dad inherited the business and turned a huge profit.
The rest of the trip is quiet. The only sound is the radio, and I know things are weird when Bodhi isn’t singing along. He stares out the window, and I can see his knee jiggling when we pass under streetlights. I know the feeling; I’m amped up as well.
When I slide into the parking lot at Marianne’s, there are some other cars and a few motorcycles. I make eye contact with Mooney again, and he bends down, extracting a gun from his bag and sitting back w
ith a grim smile.
“I might not fully agree, but I get why you need to do this. Do what you gotta do,” Mooney says.
Corbin, Bodhi, and I exit the car and glance around, making sure no one is running up on us, and then we make our way in the front door of the dive bar.
“Why, sugar, I didn’t expect to see you here at this time,” a woman says, walking up, a smile aimed at Corbin.
I glance at him. He walks forward, a smile on his face as well, and he wraps her in a hug.
He turns to us and indicates the woman his arm is still around. “This is Marlene. She owns this place.”
“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Bodhi says. “I’m Bodhi.”
He turns on the charm as he sticks out his hand between us. As they shake, she beams at him.
“I like a young man with manners,” she says, approving. Her gaze turns to me, and I stick my hand out as well.
“Brock,” I say, shifting my feet as I let my eyes dart around, looking for Drake.
She shakes my hand and then turns back to Corbin. “Where is that sweet Landry?”
I zone out of the conversation as they talk, and I check my phone, noting it’s about five until nine. I can smell the salt on the air, coming from the ocean that sits behind Marianne’s. There’s only one way in and out of this place. Well, technically, left and right, too, if you want to count a getaway on the beach. But I hope it doesn’t come to that.
I almost chuckle as I think about where I’m standing right now, what I’m about to do. My life has taken a drastic turn, and I almost don’t recognize myself anymore. I’ve always taken my family’s safety and my friends’ safety very seriously. And now, I take Peyton’s safety seriously. That’s the only reason I’m meeting this douche canoe to negotiate.
“You fellas want to sit inside or out this evening?”
I’m brought back in the conversation as Marlene waits for our answer, and I step forward.
“Outside is fine. We are waiting on someone to join us,” I say.
She cocks her head to the side for a moment as she studies us.
“Hope you kids aren’t up to no good,” she says, and then she smiles as if she is trying to gloss her worried look over.
