Falling For Crazy (Moroad Motorcycle Club)

by Debra Kayn

  Cam walked away, leaving her alone with a wealth of information she had no idea how to process. She leaned against the building, unsure of what she should do. If she left, Los Li would get ahold of her. If she stayed, Cam more or less told her she'd destroy Jacko.

  Lola and Desiree approached her. She pushed off the wall. Her desire for female companionship settled at the bottom of her stomach.

  "Are you okay?" Desiree asked.

  She shook her head. "I need to go to my room."

  "I'll get Jacko for you." Lola hurried off.

  She hugged her middle. In the room, she could pretend to sleep and find the peace and quiet to think over what Cam told her and come to a decision. Jacko would leave her alone and settle into his space that never included her.

  For a split second, she was jealous of Sarah.

  At one time, Sarah had him. Not the crazy, mentally scarred Jacko. She had the man who stood by her, supported her even though her immaturity made controlling her impossible.

  Her head buzzed. Sick over her feelings, she hated being put in a position of defending herself and walking around afraid she'd end up dead.

  Jacko strolled toward her whistling a fast and upbeat tune belying his attitude. "Ready to go in?"

  She nodded and let him lead her to the room. Jacko obviously had Moroad members taking care of him, but they were men without the ability to show their feelings. They cared, but going from what Cam said, they're way of dealing with Jacko was to let him fall deeper and hope he'd find the strength to come back to them sane.

  She wasn't willing to let him fall away from everyone. If he needed her gone to heal and overcome whatever affliction he'd come down with, whether that was a mental imbalance or an injury, she would do what was best for him. Someone needed to care for him in a way that helped him get better, not worse.

  While Jacko locked the door, she slipped into the bathroom and changed into the oversized T-shirt Katie had thrown in another bag of clothes she'd brought with her yesterday. She brushed her teeth, pulled back her hair into a low, loose ponytail, and returned to the main room.

  Jacko stood at the window, staring out into the darkness. She pulled back the sheet and blanket and crawled into bed. Turning to face the wall, she closed her eyes. She'd give him room. She'd give him support. She'd give him almost anything if her being here would help.

  But, she couldn't accept the fact he'd killed a young man. A man two years younger than Sarah had been when Los Li killed her. For how much she loved her sister and would've died for her if Sarah could've lived, she couldn't justify taking someone else's life.

  Someone else's son.

  Someone else's brother.

  The room suddenly darkened. The edge of the bed compressed. She held perfectly still and only exhaled when Jacko settled on his back. Her imagination ran wild, trying to understand how Jacko found it in himself to take someone's life and what effects doing that kind of crime against another human being did to a person.

  Obviously, he was deeply affected. She flopped over on her back before she could stop herself.

  "Jacko?' she whispered.

  He grunted.

  "I just want you to listen, okay?" She pulled the blanket up above her breasts and laid her arms straight down at her sides.

  She took his continued silence as permission for her to keep talking. Nothing she said would make a difference now, but maybe in the future he'd think about tonight and have a different mindset where he could accept her advice.

  "I know what happened to Sarah made you angry, still makes you angry. She would never want you to put yourself in danger or to spend your days locked up in prison." She turned her head toward him. "Do you know how I know that?"

  Jacko's gaze never wavered. He ignored her and stared up at the stained yellow ceiling.

  "When we were little, Sarah was the one who always found the stray kitten or the puppy someone dumped at the end of the road. For a couple days, she begged and whined to Mom about taking care of her new pet." Her voice hitched. "I think she promised her allowance for the rest of her life and to wash dishes after every meal for months if she could keep the stray. Every time, Mom would give in to her begging. Sarah would play, sleep, and pack the animal around constantly...for about three days. Then she'd forget about her responsibilities, and I'd end up feeding the animal. Sarah lived for the moment, carefree and irresponsible."

  "Stop," Jacko said.

  "It's true. I loved her more than I loved myself, but my sister woke up each day ready for excitement and a new experience, always looking for something brighter and more fun to come along. As her older sister, I picked up the pieces she left scattered behind her wherever she went." She sighed, remembering how willingly she'd do anything to keep Sarah smiling.

  "What I'm trying to say is Sarah would want you to go on to brighter ideas and focus on the things that bring you happiness. Nothing will bring her back, so we must move forward. We need to think about what Sarah would want us to do, and she wouldn't want you sacrificing yourself for her."

  Jacko's lips moved and yet he kept what he was thinking to himself. She reached down and slipped her fingers into his hand. He had to understand he couldn't give up his life for Sarah. At some point, he had to find the strength to put himself first.

  "I'm not a piece of shit she left scattered in the wind." He turned his head, and his anger-filled gaze singed her. "I'm not with you because I expect you to take care of me like I'm a stray mutt Sarah brought home and instantly forgot about."

  "Jacko—"

  "No, I want you to listen and for once, shut up and let someone else take care of you." His controlled voice, hardened mouth, and intense gaze stopped her. "I love Sarah. Loved her. No matter how fucked up I am, I know the difference between what I feel in my head versus reality. If Sarah were alive, we probably wouldn't be together. She wasn't someone who would settle down with a man who preferred to live inside prison and felt no guilt over killing someone. She was looking for a good time, and I showed her a good time. A great time, for both of us. I look back on that year we were together, and it was the one time in my fucking life where every time I saw Sarah, it brought me pleasure. It made me glad to wake up in the morning, and I wanted to make her happy."

  Amy pulled her hand, but Jacko refused to let her go. She never expected him to share his feelings with such honesty and while she knew deep in her heart what he was saying was true, and even wanted him to admit the truth, it hurt her heart more than she imagined.

  "I am not delusional about how I feel." Jacko rolled toward her, let go of her hand, and palmed the back of her head, keeping her close. "You're not getting the pieces of me that Sarah left behind, because they're fucking gone. Parts of me left with her. You're also not getting everything that's left of me. I don't give anything to anyone. Not my club, not my MC brothers, and not the system. You're going to have to accept that part of me. What you see is what you get, every fucked up piece."

  Her jaw slackened, and her teeth chattered together. "Why me?"

  "I don't fucking know." He ran his thumb along her cheek. "I only know when I found you at the river, I wanted to get rid of you as much as I wanted to hold you close, and that's a powerful feeling I usually don't experience. Yeah, maybe at the beginning it had to do with Sarah, but when I'm between your legs, looking in your eyes, it's you I'm seeing and wanting. I get fiercely protective when you give me your laughter, momma. Around others, you hold it in. But that moment when you're comfortable and I'm with you and you give me a slow, soft laugh and the sound grows until you let go letting the laughter control you, you try to fight it, and end with a snort that only makes you laugh harder and your cheeks blush. That's what I want, and I don't want anyone else to have that."

  "You killed someone the other night and who knows how many other people before that," she blurted, swept away with the feelings he created inside of her.

  "Is that going to stop you from being here with me?"

  The thought of leavin
g him, never finding out if what they were experiencing together could be better, more stable, and more powerful than either of them have had caused her throat to tighten in fear. She didn't want to leave him, not yet.

  "I don’t know how to answer your question," she admitted.

  "Either you're in or out, Momma."

  She squeezed her eyes closed to escape the pressure he put on her. His need to have her accept him out in the open put her on the spot. Goosebumps appeared on her arms, and she shivered. Right at the moment with her life in danger and Jacko the only one she had on her side, she clung to the security he gave her. Maybe tomorrow or next month, she'd change her mind.

  She couldn't leave him. Not yet. Not until she had more answers and was confident Jacko would be okay alone. "I'm in."

  His gaze warmed and his breath fanned her face. She physically felt the relief his body gave up in its struggle to remain aloof and unfeeling.

  She reached up and brought his head to her breasts and held him. Answers would come later. For tonight, she needed comfort as much as he needed her to stay.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The weight of Jacko's hand cupping the top of Amy's head urged her farther down on the bed. She slithered along his body and wrapped her arm around Jacko's thighs and pulled her mouth toward his hard, hot cock. Beyond exhausted, she looked for comfort.

  She laid against Jacko sleepy, warm, and aroused. Her headache gone, she barely had any residue effects from the bullet grazing her head, except a slim line of hardened skin from the glue along her hairline.

  Heat rolled off Jacko's body after being curled together with her all night. She stroked her tongue along his length, suctioning her lips around him. His hardness grew, filling her mouth, until her jaw locked at its limit. She slipped off, repositioning herself, and took him back inside her mouth.

  His thighs tensed and his hips came off the bed. She went down, pulled up and slid down again. Her breasts dragged against his leg with each movement. The coarse hair stimulated her more and her nipples constricted. She hooked her leg over his knee and lifted up onto her elbows.

  Jacko's hand stroked the back of her hair while he pumped into her mouth. She moaned, coming fully awake, aroused, and wanted to please him. The only time he focused on one thing without allowing any distractions were when they had sex, and he shut off the outside world and focused on her.

  He let go of her hair and slid his hand under her arm, lifting her. She raised her head. Her mouth came off him with a soft pop.

  "Turn around," he said in his early morning, gravelly voice.

  She swiveled, scooted, and lay back down with her head halfway down his body and her thighs up by his head. He turned to his side and lifted her leg over his shoulder. Exposed to him, she lowered her mouth to his cock. His velvety slick tongue swiped her sex. She sucked harder on his cock. The intense pleasure of pleasing him warmed her body.

  Jacko hummed in approval, licking her clit, swirling his tongue, caressing the essence of her core. She palmed his ass, holding on while her lower half pulsed and gyrated against him.

  "Hold on, tight," he said against her lower lips. "Suck hard."

  She swallowed around him, increasing the suction. Her cheeks pressed against his width eliciting a growl and a pump of his cock in her. She bobbed her head, taking another inch, pushing her limit, surprised when the head of his cock touched the back of her throat.

  Jacko nipped, sucked, stroked, and added a finger inside of her wetness. The sloppy wet sound of skin hitting skin filled the room along with her ragged breath and Jacko's soft growls of encouragement.

  The raw hunger coming from Jacko spurred her own need. Her thighs spasmed and squeezed his head. She gripped the base of his cock. With her firm hold on him, she worked him with her mouth, concentrating on the enlarged head, the sensitive skin and around the edge, until pre-cum salted her tongue.

  He grunted. "Too close."

  She agreed with a whine of impatience. Her orgasm hovered close by, tempting her to hurry.

  Jacko raised his upper body, shifted position, and put her on her hands and knees on the bed. In the mirror above the dresser, she watched the concentration grow on his face in the form of lines on his forehead, the set jaw, the heavy breathing as he kneeled behind her and rolled on a condom.

  Then, his cock was inside her.

  He looked up, caught her gaze in the mirror, and held her hypnotized. A shot of pleasure detonated. She arched her back and clenched her teeth, driving her moan back down into her chest. The pressure of Jacko's thrusting cock pounded inside of her. The low vibration deep inside of her grew louder, harder, and her spine stiffened with her orgasm.

  He planted himself deep, leaned over her back, and said, "Mouth."

  She turned her head. He captured her open mouth and thrust his tongue between her lips. She sucked. The same way she sucked his cock, mimicking the movement of him in her sex.

  Sweet.

  Hot.

  Fantastic.

  He pulled his head back and groaned, watching her in the mirror. His brows relaxed. The lines on his forehead all but disappeared, leaving only the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. It wasn't what he was giving her in the mirror. It was the hand at her hip making soft, slow circles telling her everything.

  He wanted her. For him, sex wasn't about an urge or tickle or need. He'd held her all night, and then he'd stayed with her through waking up, sex, and after they'd both climaxed.

  He slipped out of her body. She moved and stood beside the bed. After he threw the condom in the trash, wiped himself on a towel, he faced her. She leaned to him hesitantly, not because she was scared, but because she wanted to do everything right and keep him here with her.

  She kissed him softly on the lips. "Thank you."

  "For what?"

  She glanced back at the bed, smiled, and faced him again. "For staying with me all night and for this morning."

  He frowned. "You're in. I'm in."

  His validation settled her. "I like that you've told me how you're feeling, Jacko."

  She reached for the panties and oversized shirt she'd discarded during the night and carried them over to the corner of the room and added them to the growing pile of dirty clothes. "I asked Desiree if she could wash our clothes for us. She said she would."

  Chilled from the lower temperatures in the morning and from having no heat in the motel room, she slipped on new panties, fastened her bra, and put her jeans and shirt on. She glanced at Jacko and found him in the exact same position of watching her.

  Naked without an ounce of shame, his taunt body became harder. Jacko blinked and frowned. She found two matching pairs of socks and walked over to the edge of the bed. Any second she prepared for him to start swaying or rattling off nonsense to fill the void of conversation. Or, he'd simply walk outside and leave her alone.

  Instead, he raised his clear gaze to her eyes and said, "You're not questioning me."

  "About what?" She slipped her foot into her shoe, bent her knee, and tied the laces.

  "Every day, you've asked me why I continually move around or what I'm talking about. About every time you look at me, you act as if I'm going to jump on you and slice your throat." The muscle along his neck twitched. "Last night, you questioned Cam. Suddenly, you're okay with me? Cam told you I killed someone and instead of trusting me, you're okay because Cam spoke words you understand?"

  "That's not—"

  "Don't throw bullshit at me, Amy." Jacko grabbed his jeans off the chair and shoved his legs inside. "You've let someone else put ideas in your head. You took what happened with Los Li, wrapped everything up into a pretty package that the president of Moroad gave you and instead of trusting me, you came to your own conclusions, and suddenly you have no questions. I thought you were the one person who could see past the shit I hand everyone else, but instead you only see what you want to see."

  "What am I seeing?" She put her feet on the floor. "No, don't even try to explain. All you wa
nt to do is blow off answering me. Do you want to know what I've decided? I've decided you aren't going to give me the whole truth, so there's no reason to ask you any more questions. That's what you wanted all along. You should be happy I'm so accepting."

  He looked away and ran his hand behind his neck. "You think I'm fucking crazy," he mumbled.

  She stood, surprised to find herself agitated at Jacko's shift in how he argued with her. "I think something happened in the five years since I last saw you to make you...different than you were. But, you won't tell me why you act like you're damaged."

  "Damaged?" He burst out laughing. "Momma, you have no fucking idea."

  "Then tell me," she said, practically shouting.

  His mouth curled into a hurtful smile. "Truth is what you believe, not what you see."

  "You're doing it again." She planted her hands on her hips. "I don't know what that means."

  "If you're lucky, you never will." He grabbed his boots and vest, heading to the door.

  She plopped down on the bed. "You're impossible. First you're mad because I talk too much, and now you're pissed because I finally shut up. You seem to forget about having sex with me and acting normal for the last eight hours. You can ignore what's happening between us, Jacko, because whatever you do, no matter how crazy you act, you have an excuse. And, considering I told you I'm in, that means I'm in. But, you are definitely not in."

  Jacko stepped outside and shut the door. She groaned, flopped back on the bed, and stared blindly at the ceiling. She wanted to smack him. He had her spouting nonsense. She sounded as insane as he did.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jacko stood outside of the motel room, thankful for once the parking lot was empty. He walked to his bike, circled the motorcycle three times, and stopped. The urge to ride out, visit the one place that grounded him and come back and give Amy what she wanted most pierced his gut until the stabbing pain almost took him to his knees.

  He opened the satchel hooked between his handlebars and removed the small flask designed as a flashlight in case the sheriff pulled him over. He downed the entire contents in two swallows. Not even enough to take the edge off before seven o'clock in the morning.