Blood and Tears: A Biker Erotic Romance (Free Guns MC)

by Wilson, Joanna

  Grabbing a pair of underwear, Kat was just slipping them on when she heard a creak from the bed and then felt Solomon push her deeper into her closet in to her hanging clothes. “How did you--?”

  Solomon's hand tightened around her shoulder. “Doesn't matter what I say, does it, Kit-Kat? You’ve already made up your mind. I could say that I did it and you believe me, I could say I didn’t and you think I’m lying. So what does it matter?”

  Kat knew Solomon was right. And for a second she realized how correct his statement was. It wasn’t as if Solomon hadn’t made his intentions known from the start. He’s wanted Jamison’s position from day one, wanted to turn the Free Guns into something they weren’t.

  It wouldn’t make sense to kill Jamison if everyone was going to suspect you anyway, she thought. So if Solomon didn’t--

  Hard lips crushed against hers, stealing Kat’s reasoning. She'd forgotten how vulnerable she was, naked in front of a man she wanted to fuck. It didn’t make sense that she’d forget that blaring fact, or that Solomon breaking into her house and kissing her wasn’t creepy and dangerous. The man was dangerous, and yet strangely, she didn’t feel scared.

  It wasn’t that Solomon couldn’t hurt her, he had the power both emotionally and physically to do so, but his actions weren’t the actions of a crazy, dangerous man, but a desperate man. Solomon knew the moment that everyone had stopped thinking of Jamison’s incident as an accident and instead murder, all eyes would turn to him.

  Solomon Parker was a dead man walking, and everyone knew it. They were all just waiting for someone to call him out on it, someone powerful, in control--their leader. The club wanted to see her to label Solomon a murderer and put him down.

  Kat felt the silk of Solomon’s tongue as the kissed, felt the heat of his hands on her naked body as they touched. Everything felt rawer, like this kiss or that touch could be the last. Desperate, it felt desperate.

  Ripping her mouth away from his, Kat put aside her reservations and gave them both what they wanted. She knew that after this night, that was it. She’d go into the bar tomorrow, talk with people she considered friends and family, and if the majority thought it was Solomon there was only one thing she could do, would do.

  “Raw,” Kat growled as she turned and braced her hands on her closet wall. “Give it to me raw. I don’t want to forget a single second.”

  Solomon Parker was everything Kat had been told to stay away from. The man was known to hang out with drug lords, pick fights with anyone who looked at him twice, and use women like napkins. He had a sheet longer than her legs, and was the very definition of tall, dark and dangerous. Kat had never been attracted to men that she knew would only hurt her, but with Solomon it seemed like it had all been inevitable.

  In the next instant, Solomon was in her, his cock so hard, so thick, that it drove her up the wall and onto her tiptoes. Clenching tight around him, Kat pushed back and rotated her hips, giving as good as she got. She gave herself over, let her voice out, and got lost in his smell, his hands, everything that was Solomon Parker, because she knew the next day she might very well be his murderer.

  ***

  Reaching towards the poker table, Kat picked up one of the cigarette cartons one of the guys had left and pulled out a smoke. Reaching for a matching lighter, she took a drag and blew the smoke out, along with a deep breath she’d been holding in since morning.

  “Three years smoke free, and now look at me,” Kat mumbled as she took another drag and leaned further back in her chair.

  The bar was quiet, only a few regulars crowding around the TV with mugs of beer in their hands. It was still early morning, much earlier than Kat usually woke up, but there she was. And it was all because of Solomon Parker.

  How many times had they danced around each other? Smiled, flirted, suggested, but never actually got around to the actual fucking? Probably too many times for Kat to count. But then Jamison died and suddenly they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, because they knew that everything was about to go to hell.

  “What to do? What to do?” Kat thought aloud as she finished her cigarette and crushed it in an ashtray.

  Mindy had called her sometime during the night, after Solomon had passed out on her bed and told Kat that she suspected the biker was her husband's murderer. No, surprise there. Things only got worse as texts and calls came through, all saying the same thing, all coming to her. It was obvious who the new president was going to be, but even more obvious what the new president would have to do.

  Hours, that was all the time Solomon Parker had left. The Free Guns would track him down, and tonight at their rally accusations would fly, and unless Solomon had some evidence that he didn’t do it, or evidence that someone else did, the man was dead.

  “You alright over there, Kat?” Billy, one of the recent hires, called out to her from behind the bar. The kid barely looked old enough to drive a car, but here he was serving alcohol.

  “I’m alright, kid,” Kat called back, resisting the urge to go over and run her fingers through his black curls as she got up and stretch, every muscle in her body sore from overuse. It was a nice soreness, but on the back of a bike, it felt like shit.

  Throwing some cash on the table, Kat pulled out her phone and checked her messages.

  @ Woods 10. Got S.

  Balling her hand into a fist, Kat texted a confirmation and walked straight out of the bar, got on her bike, and rode till all she could hear was the blood in her ears and the wind rushing by.

  ***

  Moonbeams bounced off the seductive crimson paint on the side of Kat’s bike as she rolled into the clearing and saw the Free Gun’s assembles, most of the members wearing grim faces. A tiny cluster of men stood off to the side, looking like they were circling someone. Kat didn’t have to guess who that someone was.

  Rolling to a stop, Kat set her kickstand and climbed off her bike. All eyes turned to her as she took off her helmet and set it on her motorcycle. Faces that she’d known for years, girl friends and father figures, all watching her with respect and trust.

  “Let’s get on with it then.” Kat nodded to the circle of men and moved towards the group, her boots digging into the soft grass.

  Cigarettes fell to the forest floor and were crushed beneath boot heels as the members stepped away from their bikes and gathered closer. Kat felt their eyes bore into her back, assessing her, sizing her up, and determining if she was really the new president they wanted. The election was more like a popularity contest that Kat knew she would win hands down any day of the week, but tonight was just her cementing her role.

  “Glad you could make it, Kat. Hopefully this won’t take too long,” A man named Ryan said as patted her on the shoulder.

  Kat nodded, knowing that he was among the many who believed Solomon was guilty. Perhaps sex was clouding her brain, but Kat didn’t think Solomon was guilty anymore. If anything his continual silence made her think he was trying to protect someone.

  Still, if push came to shove, she’d stay beside the Free Guns and honor their wishes, even if those wishes left stains on her soul. She was already stained, one more wouldn’t hurt.

  Stopping in front of Solomon, Kat tried to look at him objectively, like the criminal everyone saw him as. Bruised and bloody, but still smiling, the man was on his knees, one eye swollen shut and a cut lip. Kat had no doubt there were more bruises and if the slightly darker stains on his navy t-shirt told her anything, there was probably more blood as well.

  “Solomon,” Kat greeted the man, her tone ice cold reflecting none of the warmth from only a few hours ago. Even at that moment Kat could still smell him on her skin, feel his hands running through her hair, his nails digging into her hips as he thrust into her body with such vehemence she thought he might actually break her.

  But then again, he’d been right. A part of her desired him so fiercely that she didn’t care if he broke her.

  “Kathy,” Solomon returned with a slight cough and then turned h
is head and spit out blood.

  Turning away from him, Kat racked her gaze around the Free Gun’s members looking for any suspicious characters, anyone who might have just as much motive as Solomon. There were a few, but none so hopeless that they’d resort to killing. And, Kat thought as she returned her gaze back to Solomon, none of these men have been sent to jail for attempted manslaughter except Solomon.

  The Free Guns weren’t perfect, and jail wasn’t a new phenomenon, but they lived by a strict code. Jamison had made sure all of his members remained drug free and fight free, people got off the bandwagon sometimes, but they almost always got back up and back on.

  “I’m not going to bullshit anyone; we all know why we’re here,” Kat began, raising her voice so everyone could hear her. “Most of you think Solomon here killed Jamison--that he tampered with his bike in some way--and you want retribution.”

  A hush settled over the crowd, the tension skyrocketing. Kat held her breath wondering if anyone was about cry foul or stand up for Solomon.

  Mindy screamed an outburst about how the rest of the Guns wanted Solomon's head and lunged. One of the guys held her back as she clawed and kicked to move closer. Kat glared at Mindy until she finally went quiet, with only silent tears racing down her cheeks.

  “All because I wanted to restore this club to its former glory. The good old days, instead of the groups of pussies it’s turned into.” Solomon grinned and burst out on a laughing. One of the members standing next to Solomon raised his steel toed boot and kicked Solomon hard in the side.

  “Knock it off, Isaac,” Kat snapped and placed her hand on the gun holstered at her side.

  The kicking stopped immediately, and the members were silent again. Closing her eyes, Kat knew that she was running out of choices. She’d never be forced into killing Solomon, but if no one vouched for him, then she’d do what she had to do.

  “Who thinks Solomon murderer Jamison?” Kat asked as she opened her eyes.

  Hands flew up, and with every hand that went up, Kat locked eyes with its owner. Eyes were, after all, the windows to the soul. While her members harbored secrets, no one in the Free Guns had killed Jamison, at least no one present.

  Sighing under her breath, she asked the final question. “Who wants Solomon Parker dead?”

  A roar erupted from the member, deafening and blood thirsty all at once. Mindy hadn’t been wrong, they all wanted his head.

  Removing her gun from the holster, Kat raised it to her eye level and aimed it at Solomon. His lips twisted in a sardonic smile as blood trailed out of the corner of his mouth. “You were so much warmer yesterday when I was fucking you, Kit-Kat,” his voice was loud and clear if a little rough.

  Kat shrugged, and took off the safety, finger on the trigger. “I was a lot of things yesterday. But today, I am the leader of the Free Guns!”

  The club cheered and threw around a few “fuck right”s and “Hell yeah's. If that didn’t cement her role as president, Kat wasn’t sure what did.

  “Tell the Devil: Kathy Sullivan says hi,” Kat said coolly as she steeled her heart and--

  A gasp, a shuffling sound: “Wait! Don’t shoot!”

  --pulled the trigger.

  Read on for an excerpt from Ride to Fight, the sequel to Blood and Tears.

  Kat smiled at Solomon, looking into his piercing blue eyes as the cry came out from a member of the Free Guns MC. Blood slid down from Solomon’s forehead, dripping onto his navy shirt, but he never stopped looking at Kat.

  “You got spared, Parker,” Kat said as she holstered her gun and turned to the voice who had issued the cry.

  Billy, the new hire from the bar that the club frequented was pushed towards Kat. Watching as Billy stumbled and shook, Kat didn’t feel an ounce of pity for the kid. He’d had plenty of time to come to Solomon Parker’s rescue and say that Solomon didn’t kill the old president, but the kid had waited until the last possible moment.

  It was just lucky for the both of them that Kat was a fantastic shot and she’d flicked her wrist at the same moment the gun had fired, grazing Solomon’s forehead.

  “You got some nerve, kid,” One of the member’s sneered as Billy looked Kat in the eyes.

  Kat stared into his brown eyes, wondering why he, of all people, had stepped forward and held off Solomon’s execution. It wasn’t that Kat wasn’t grateful to the kid--she was. Taking a life was something she’d never thought she’d have to do, but being the president of the Free Guns meant that she had to bloody her hands a bit for the good of the club. So Kat had put aside her own feelings about Solomon Parker--but aside the budding emotions and concerns she’d had over the ruggedly handsome biker--and done her duty.

  “What is it Billy?” Kat said, turning towards the kid and giving him her undivided attention.

  “Don’t say a fucking word, Billy,” Solomon growled from his place on the forest floor and was met by a swift kick in the side.

  Kat turned to the member who kicked Solomon--the same person who’d kicked him before. “Do it again, Ryan, and you’re going to lose something.” She warned.

  Kat stared the man down before he took a step back and away from Solomon. Authority, that’s what it was all about. Kat had it, no one wanted it, so she wielded it any way she wanted. If that meant protecting a man who had been accused of killing their former president, than she’d live with that.

  “Answer my question, Billy, or I put one right between his eyes.” Kat warned as she touched her gun menacingly. She wouldn’t do it though. Solomon Parker had already faced death once today, she wasn’t going to put him through it again. She might have been willing to be a murderer two seconds ago, but time changed, and one adapted.

  “He didn’t do it,” Billy whispered, his hands shaking so badly it hurt Kat's eyes to look.

  The kid looked like he was barely out of high school but dished up drinks with practiced ease. Kat took the time to really examine him. There was something about the kid that didn’t sit right with her, something about the kid that gave her pause.

  Kat watched Billy’s chest expand as he sucked in a breath and with shaking hands, he push back his black hair as he exhaled. “I did it. I killed Jamison.”

  Enjoyed the preview? Ride to Fight is available for purchase in the Kindle Store!