I’m not a murderer, a pedophile or rapist. I’m just a man who decided to put a cut on his body versus a cross around his neck, and for that I will be shunned until they’re buried deep in the ground. Even then, I don’t think anyone will ever accept me.
At this point, I’ve stopped trying to fit in.
Who can blame me?
12
May your vibes shift the whole damn frequency of the room you walk in.
-Anonymous
Camila
Kat and I slaved away in the kitchen of the clubhouse for a good couple of hours today, cooking up a storm. We chose some easy options, setting them out buffet style so everyone could come and help themselves. Casseroles, burgers and hotdogs. It’s funny, I never liked any of these foods very much until I was with the Reapers. Nowadays I know how to slam down a chili cheese dog.
“Did Damon tell you who’s gonna be staying in the trailer with you yet?” I shake my head at Kat’s question, and wait for her to continue. “We’re mixing up Brotherhood and the Reapers, so you two will have Cobra as a roomie.” Cobra is one of the Brotherhood’s full patched members. I haven’t spoken to him much, but I have witnessed how he speaks and acts around the other brothers. He’s one of those who’s very sarcastic and witty. Basically, he’s a complete smartass. I just hope there won’t be any problems with Cobra and Boog. Our trailer isn’t the biggest thing in the world, but at least we both have a bit of space from one another. I imagine it would’ve been awkward if the bedrooms were side by side.
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes.” I shrug. A long time ago, I used to be the type of girl that would worry over every little thing. Going through what I did rid me of that worry, and the anxiety that came along with it. Now, I just go with the flow and accept that whatever will be, will be.
“You’ll be fine. I told Damon that those two would probably get along. I don’t know either of them very well, but I do get the hunch that Boog and Cobra both have very similar back stories. Seems like they have the same sense of humor too, so I’m sure that will help make things less awkward at first. Oh, what did Boog say about the couch?” Kat snickers at the last bit, and suddenly I remember the beautiful purple couch I picked out just yesterday.
“Delivery has been delayed another day. We’re getting the couch and a few other bigger things tomorrow. I think the dressers and bedside tables are coming, plus the mattress and bed frame. I know I’m probably forgetting a few other things too.”
“It’s so weird how our stuff got here today, but yours has to wait ‘til tomorrow. Are you guys comfortable on the air mattress?”
“Eh, we’re managing. It’s not the worst place I’ve slept before.”
“I imagine you and I have had to sleep in some pretty fucked up places.” Kat mutters lowly, her voice goes to a dark place that only I can truly understand. Others here may know she’s been through a lot. It’s just one thing to know and another thing to experience it.
“Weren’t you the one that said we’d need to talk about this over a drink?” I mention, knowing very well Kat did. I want to laugh, but I don’t. Instead, I hold it in, not entirely sure why I think it’s hysterical that we’d never choose to talk about our pasts sober. A drink is a necessity when it comes to this.
We’re standing near the side of the kitchen and I follow Kat as we walk outside, and she leads me to her trailer. It must be nice to be her and Damon, getting an entire place to themselves. But privacy is a luxury when you’re part of the club, always seeming like everyone knows your business. She walks up a couple steps, opens the door and I follow her into a trailer that looks just like ours. It’s the same, an exact replica, but the furniture that she chose makes it look like it’s from a different era. She grabbed big, gaudy furniture that is definitely something who wants to be comfortable would choose. I prefer a smaller couch, opposed to a ginormous one that takes up too much space. “Follow me, I hid the booze under the sink.”
“No such thing as hiding booze when you told me where it is,” I laugh, catching her rolling her eyes at me in response. She walks over to the sink, bends down and opens the cabinet, yanking out a bottle of tequila. Now we’re talking. Kat unscrews the top and takes a swig, then hands the bottle to me and I do the same.
“I find it interesting that neither of us have talked about our pasts.” I say aloud, surprised by that fact. Both of us were held captive by horrible men, the two of us managing to escape when so many others don’t get the same opportunity. We should count ourselves lucky, but I don’t think luck is the right word when it comes to what we experienced. I’ve noticed the scars on Kat’s body since I’ve been around her. She tries to hide them with the clothes she wears, but when it’s too hot out… well, there’s no hiding it. What she can’t keep hidden is the dark cloud that follows her. She’s one of those girls who are great and acting like everything is peachy. If you ask me, she keeps her darkness hidden because she wants her family to think everything is okay. Personally, I understand that, because I do the same. The only difference is that my family situation is a lot more complicated. God knows where my father is, and Maria is with the Skulls Renegade MC in Tennessee.
It hurts me so much to be so far from her, but I’ve accepted that it’s the way it has to be until we can be reunited. Fist had to explain to me a long time ago that Rafael is still very much after my sister, and it would be a risk to put us both back together. I didn’t argue with him, because the last thing I ever want to happen is for any harm to come to Maria. She’s the only person on this earth who ever truly understands me.
“Why would we want to speak about them?” Kat asks, taking her hand behind her hair, she moves it around her other shoulder.
I roll my shoulders from side to side, trying to think of a response that can lighten the mood a bit. This is what I didn’t want to happen, for us to become lost in our own minds, more specifically – our own nightmares. I can see Kat’s already reliving what she’s endured as her eyes go dark, almost making me feel like she’s not in the present with me. “I don’t know. It could be therapeutic.”
“Huh?” She asks, shaking her head as she comes back into the moment.
“I was just saying that it could be therapeutic to share our experiences. It’s not like you or I will talk to anyone else about them. I doubt you want Damon to know how fucked in the head you are, just like how I don’t want Boog to know the same about me.”
Kat cocks her head to the side while grabbing the bottle of tequila and takes a hefty shot back. “You forget he was there with me through a big portion of it. Damon had a front row seat to the Kat-show.”
“Oh,” I murmur, forgetting that fact. Damon was undercover with the Demons of Hell MC while Kat was Rage’s prisoner. Only, they didn’t know too much about one another from what I gather. Damon may have known about Kat, but Kat didn’t know a damn thing about him. I pull the bottle out of her hand, sit down on one of her plush lined barstools and take a sip of tequila. “Do you sneak off to therapy or something?” I ask because I’m genuinely curious. No good comes out of keeping all of it bottled up, but I’m not one to talk. I’d be the pot calling the kettle black.
Kat laughs, and leans her forearms onto the stone island countertop. “No way. Why bother someone else with my shit? It wouldn’t do any good. Plus, I’m not one who enjoys talking to strangers about the shit I’ve been through.”
I nod, understanding where she’s coming through. “Yeah. The only people who ever understand the type of things we’ve been through are the ones who have had pieces of them taken too.”
Kat shoots me an expression that tells me she agrees with what I’ve just said. “We lose a lot more than what most think when we experience shit like we have.” She’s not kidding. If we don’t lose our minds, we lose parts of ourselves, and sometimes even pieces.
There’s no doubt in my mind that we’ve both lost pieces of ourselves. I just hope that we can put them back where they belonged. If not by oursel
ves, then together.
13
So, I close my eyes to old ends and open my heart to new beginnings.
-Nick Frederickson
Booger
I wake from my slumber feeling pressure run all over my body. Where I was light and weightless just a few moments ago, now it’s replaced with a heaviness. I move my arms around and open my eyes, trying to figure out where I am. It’s now that I realize I’m on the shitty ass air mattress that Camila and I have had to sleep on. I must’ve drunkenly walked back here last night and faceplanted. I’m surprised the damn thing didn’t pop and we’re not on the floor right now. Thankfully, we’ll be getting our furniture later today. I move my arm to the right and feel nothing beside me which only means one thing. I’ve become more comfortable than the bed. I wrap my arms around her body and pull her up a little higher.
Her legs wrap around my thighs and she softly mews against my neck. Running my hands up and down her back, she grumbles, pressing her lips further against my skin. I feel wetness running over her bottom lip as she scooches closer and my mind goes to left field, thinking about how sweet it was to kiss her the other night. I’ve found myself thinking about her lips against mine any moment that I can. If I’m not thinking about kissing her, I’m dreaming about the other things I want to do to her.
A harsh sigh slips from her mouth and she groans, stretching her limbs out across my body. “Ugh, not comfy.” It’s cute hearing her complain, since she’s not that type of woman. I have a feeling that when Camila is tired, she turns into a different person.
“I know, this thing is shit.” I comment back, tugging her closer. I just want to soothe her, make her feel comfortable enough to get back to sleep. Knowing me, I won’t be getting any more sleep. I’m the type of guy who stays awake once he’s up. Been this way ever since I was a kid. I think it has something to do with me growing up on a farm and always knowing that there’s work to be done. Just can’t seem to kick it out of my system.
“Motherfucker,” She angrily grumbles, sitting up on top of me. Camila stretches her arms out and yawns, rubbing her hands over her eyes. I try my hardest not to let my dick do the talkin’ right now, but as her pussy rubs on him, he just can’t help but wake up. I watch her face, which is illuminated by the lighting post we have out a few feet away from the trailer. Normally, I think we’ll shut the curtains at night, but I don’t mind watching the way she smiles as she feels my length come alive.
Camila has a pair of tiny shorts on, ones that barely cover her ass. If she ever thinks she can wear these out of the bedroom, I’ll be making damn sure she knows she can’t. This hot body of hers is only for my eyes to see. I don’t want any other man ogling over her.
Camila runs the palm of her hand over my cock, teasing me with one swift brush of her hand. I want to shake my head, and tell her I don’t do the teasing bullshit, but with her… I think she’ll get away with anything. I can’t say no to that face. My eyes are trained on her as I feel her go to my boxers, pulling my cock free. I can’t help the way my cock twitches as her fingers run over my head and down my shaft, repeating the process. I’ve imagined this for far too long. She releases my cock and I watch as she tosses those shorts off her body, peeling off her small tank top in the process.
I move my hand to touch her clit, but she leads me to her breasts, so instead I tweak and tease her nipples. As I do, she slides herself onto me and I swear, she’s the tightest woman I’ve ever been with. She rocks her hips back and forth, bouncing on my cock like she’s listening to the beat of a song. I pull my torso up and slip her nipple into my mouth, gnawing on it between my lips, continuing to twist the other.
Moans slip past her lips and she grabs onto my shoulders, pulling me closer to her. I shift my hips up, meeting her movements and revel in the pleasure that comes from her mouth. “Dios Mio, I never knew it could feel this good.” I think about the severity of what she’s just said to me, knowing that she must have not had good experiences in the past. But I don’t say a thing. Instead, I choose to stay in this moment.
I release her nipple from my mouth and grab her by the back of the neck and stare deep into her eyes, making sure I have her attention. “It’ll always be this good with me, Princess. I’ll bring you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, and make you want even more of it.” I vow this to her, only wanting to bring happiness in her life. If good sex is that, then I’ll sure as hell bring it.
“Oh,” She bites her bottom lip as the moan comes out. I feel her pussy tighten at the same time, telling me she’s fuckin’ close. Quickly, I change our positions, lifting her up and slam her against the window. Her leg is over my hip while her other touches the floor. I pound my cock inside her, feeling her wetness run over me. She tightens up, trying to squeeze the life out of my cock, but I continue on, needing to pump her full of my cum.
I’ve wanted this for so fucking long, and can’t imagine pulling out now. I know it’s selfish, but I don’t give a fuck. I want her to feel my cum seeping out of her hot pussy all fuckin’ day. “Fuck!” I growl out, slamming my lips against hers as the head of my cock swells. I’m about to burst, feeling the pressure build up inside me.
“Oh, oh!” She repeats, over and over again. Her arms wrap around me, pulling me closer against her and I see those dark eyes stare into mine. She doesn’t have to say a word, because I see it all in these eyes of hers and lose all of my control. I burst inside her, rocking my cock back and forth. It’s now that I realize that while I might not know Camila very well, I’m going to know every part of her.
More importantly, I’m probably going to fall in love with her.
I don’t know how I fell asleep again, but I managed to with Camila cuddled up close against me. I wake to the sounds of beeping and realize it’s the furniture being delivered. Tossing over on my opposite side, I grab my phone and check the time. It’s just past six in the morning. What the fuck is wrong with these people?! I shoot up, grab my jeans and slide them on quickly, get my boots on and charge out the door.
Throwing my hands up in the air, just as the driver exits through his door. “What the fuck man! Do you know how early it is?”
He raises his eyebrows, holding his clipboard and flips through a couple pages of papers. “If you want me to come back, I can, but I won’t be able to get here with this load for another week. Plus, you’ll be charged another two hundred dollars for a delivery fee.” Fuck him and his shitty attitude too. “Want me to come back?”
I take in a deep breath and roll my eyes, “No. Bring in the living room stuff first. I have to wake my girlfriend up so you can put stuff in the bedroom.” He gives me a curt nod and I walk back in the trailer, head back to my room and see Camila putting on a pair of jean shorts that just barely cover her ass and a deep purple tank. With the way her nipples are greeting me, I know she’s not wearing a bra under there.
“They came earlier than they said,” She tells me.
“You think? C’mon, tell the man where you want the shit.” I grumble. I need my coffee before I become a decent person in the morning. Now that I think about it. We don’t have a fuckin’ coffee pot in this joint. Fuck! “Camila,”
“Yeah?”
“Can you go out and grab a coffee pot sometime today?” She nods before I finish asking the question.
“Hello! Please put the carpet down first, and the couch will go…” I tune out of listening to her direct the furniture delivery men. I didn’t see the other guy, but boy did I get relieved when I found out I wouldn’t have to be movin’ any of this shit.
Cobra comes out from the other end of the trailer just as the movers bring in some god awful colored couch. “What the fuck is that?” I ask out loud, letting my thoughts slip out.
“Isn’t it perfect?! It’ll brighten the space up.” Camila says, her eyes sparkling as she says it. Jesus. I don’t want to break it to her that I hate the fuckin’ color, but she listened and got me that leather couch I wanted. Dammit.
Cobra lean
s against the wall and smiles like a cat who caught the canary. “What’re you smilin’ about?” I ask him.
“Just thinkin’ how that couch will be really nice to screw a cunt on.”
“Fuck no. Screw your bitches on the ground where they belong.” Camila snaps at him and I see the mover’s eyes go wide, watching them hold back their laughter. I’m not too far behind them. “You don’t even have a girl here anyway,” She continues barking at him and as she keeps on, his smile grows even bigger.
“Sweetie. Have you seen me? The bitches come runnin’ to this face.”
Camila’s jaw drops and I burst out into laughter. Haven’t known Cobra for too long and he may be a dick, but he’s funny as fuck. I think we’ll be gettin’ along just fine.
14
Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends.
-Hafiz
Booger
The couch might have shocked me this morning, but that was the least of my worries after seeing the mountain of shit Camila bought. I’m terrified to look at the balance on my credit card, but then again, I didn’t get any large purchase alerts… so it can’t be that bad.
Camila and Kat went out with Damon and Cobra to go into town. They wanted to find a Target or something similar to get some household stuff like cutlery, baking and cooking pans, etc. We had all our furniture, but we sure don’t have the things we need to cook, clean and all of that jazz.
Booger (Reapers MC Book 3) Page 5
