Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils #4)

by Hayley Faiman

  I’m covered in blood, including my entire face. The only parts that are not stained with deep red are the whites of my eyes and my teeth.

  I strip my clothes quickly and jump in the shower, washing the red stain off of my body completely before I turn the shower off and wrap a towel around my waist.

  Walking across the hall to the bedroom, I open it, halfway thinking that Mary is gone, but she’s there—dressed in a pretty dress, her back to me, bare except for a few strings, while the skirt of the dress skims the floor. I close the door behind me, making sure to lock it before I walk up behind her.

  “Who’d you kill?” she asks, still not turning around.

  I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her bare back into my chest before I rest my chin on the top of her head.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I murmur.

  “It was my parents?” she asks, her voice void of emotion.

  “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

  “Yes. I think I should know,” she whispers, her eyes still facing forward on the parking lot, where I walked toward the front door, covered in her parent’s blood.

  “It was,” I admit.

  “Why both? My mother never hurt me,” she says.

  “She allowed you to stay in that environment. She allowed that monster to touch you, to hurt you.”

  Mary-Anne doesn’t say anything. The silence of the room is deafening, but I don’t move, I don’t speak—I wait. Then she turns around in my arms, placing her hands on my chest and tipping her head back to look up at me.

  “I’m sorry I let other people’s opinions cast doubt in my head about us, about you. I love you, Maxfield. I don’t think we’re wrong. I think we’re two lost people who have finally found what we’ve been looking for. For me, a man who will treat me well and take care of me. For you, a woman who can accept you for who you are—accept your life and the way you live it, but also be strong enough to stand up to you. But most importantly, I think we were both looking for love.”

  I lower my chin and I take her in a deep, hard, rough kiss. My woman—mine.

  Mary’s back bows as she presses herself closer to me, allowing me to deepen the kiss, and I know that she’s given herself to me.

  All of her is now—mine.

  “Make love to me, Maxfield,” she whispers. Again, my name on her lips goes straight to my cock.

  I probably shouldn’t touch her. I’ve just killed her parents, and I’m sure fucking her is the last thing I should do. However, with those big blue eyes looking up at me, begging, pleading for me, there’s only one thing to do. I make love to her, my Old Lady, my woman, the soon-to-be mother of my children.

  Fuck.

  I love this damn girl.

  We don’t speak of my parents again; but the moment my eyes meet Fury’s, I know that he knows. They soften on me and he looks at me with what I can only assume is—pity. I hate it. I shake my head and give him a bright smile instead of anything close to sad, because I’m not sad.

  Not in the slightest.

  I probably should be, and maybe one day I’ll regret not saying goodbye to them. Maybe. But I doubt it.

  My father was an awful man.

  Terrible, actually.

  My mother was his punching bag, and she took his abuse, but she also stood back as he turned his abuse onto his children.

  I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a mother yet, but I can only guess how it would feel to see anybody harm your child. Just imagining somebody hurting my nieces make me maniacal—so mothers, they probably feel that times a million, and yet mine did nothing when my father was beating the shit out of me or my brother.

  “I’m good,” I whisper to Fury who nods once and then shifts his focus onto his three-year-old, Danger.

  “Poppy,” he squeals, running and jumping into Max’s arms.

  Max catches him with a grunt and I can’t help but laugh at the exchange.

  “Need a beer Pops? Mary-Anne?” Fury asks.

  “Yeah,” Max grunts.

  “I’ll have a water. But you guys stay here, let me get it,” I offer, running my fingers across Max’s lower back before I walk toward the kitchen.

  “Oh, you’re here,” Kentlee smiles and envelopes me in a hug.

  “Not yet. I have to get beers for the men,” I grin.

  Kentlee rolls her eyes as she walks over to the fridge and opens it, handing me two bottles.

  I make my way back into the living room and hand bottles to the two men, who are now sitting down. Max is on the sofa, and Fury is in a chair with his feet up on an ottoman. Danger is still in Max’s arms, whispering something to him, while Ellie sits curled into his side, and Bear sits cross-legged on the floor, looking up at him. They’re completely enamored by Max, and it’s absolutely breathtaking.

  It takes everything inside of me to tear my eyes away from the sight, but I do. I need to get to the kitchen and make sure Kentlee doesn’t need any help. Once I find my way back, I find her staring down at a salad, and she’s crying.

  “Kent?” I ask.

  “We’re a family, and I’m crying, and I don’t know why. No, that’s a lie. I know why,” she says between sobs.

  “Why?” I ask in confusion.

  “My husband won’t stop screwing me. Watch out girl. The Duhart men, they’re fertile, and they don’t stop. Even when you say no more kids, they just throw another one in you,” she says, tears running down her cheeks.

  “You’re pregnant again?” I ask in surprise.

  “Yes, the bastard; and he’s so excited that I can’t even be mad,” she says before she stomps her foot.

  “Congratulations, I think?” I say with a smile.

  “I’m happy. I mean, I am so tired of being pregnant, but I’m also so happy,” she whispers with a shaky smile.

  I walk over to her and I wrap my arms around her in a hug. She looks like she could use one, and I know I’m right when her arms wrap around me and hold me back tightly.

  “This is the most fucked up crazy family. But you know what?” she asks lifting her head. I look at her and wait for her to continue. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. Seriously. We’re fucked up, but we’re fun and happy, and every day is just so—awesome,” she whispers.

  The rest of the evening is spent laughing with family and eating good food. After the kids go to bed, neither Kentlee or Fury blink when Max pulls me down onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. In fact, Fury did much of the same with Kent.

  I know that it will take some time before we can be this comfortable around Bates, but for now, I’m happy with what we have. Kentlee, Fury, and Brentlee are accepting of my relationship with Max, and Bates is tolerating it, which is all I can ask for from my older brother.

  Max and I leave around midnight and head back to the clubhouse. We’re going to stay in town one more day, and then we have to take the new clubwhore we traded with us back to Cali. I’m not ready to leave. I want to spend more time with my family, but I know that Max wants the trade over with so we don’t have to deal with them anymore.

  “We’ll come back in a couple weeks, how’s that sound?” he asks as we walk into the room we’re staying in, as if he can read my mind.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Three days in town isn’t long enough for us to spend with our family, sweetness,” he murmurs, which means that he misses his grandchildren, too.

  I nod with a smile on my lips before I kiss him and then start to strip down for bed. There’s no use in wearing pajama’s anymore; Max always takes them off of me, either in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning, so for now, I give up.

  I crawl beneath the sheets as he does the same on the other side, completely naked as well, and wraps his arms around me, pulling my back into his chest.

  “Get some sleep tonight, sweetness,” he murmurs.

  “Okay, Maxfield,” I yawn.

  “Love you,” he grunts in my ear.

  “I love you, so much,” I sigh.


  “I’m not sorry I killed your parents, but I’m sorry they’re dead, sweetness,” he murmurs as his thumb rubs the bottom of my breast gently.

  “Me too. I feel the same way. Does that make me a bad daughter?” I ask, a question that’s been bothering me this evening.

  “You couldn’t be if you tried. But they weren’t real parents, sweetness. Not even close.”

  “You’re right,” I murmur into the dark room.

  Max doesn’t stop stroking my breast, and I fall asleep, wrapped in his arms; but more importantly, wrapped in his love.

  I walk into church, and the air is charged. I know that Sniper is already here. The club knows that we had heated words, and like the gossips they are, they’re waiting for a showdown. Well, tough shit. They ain’t gonna get it.

  I’m done.

  He was cool to Mary and even spent the day with her yesterday. As long as he’s good to her, treats her with respect and love, I could give a flying fuck how he feels about me.

  My eyes catch Sniper’s and he lifts his chin in a greeting. There’s no hate anywhere in his eyes, and I know that we’re cool. Or, as cool as we can be, seeing as I’m fucking his little sister. I make my way over to my son’s side and sit down where his VP, Drifter, would normally sit. Then he calls the meeting to order.

  I tell the club the update with the Russian’s. How we’ve started moving product from Frisco to Denver, and what to expect from now on, including the dues cuts for being lookouts.

  “Any news on The Cartel since the shitstorm with Blow?” I ask.

  Not too long ago, Dirty Johnny’s woman was held for ransom by Blow, who used to be a president in Canada. He had been stripped of his title and banned from the club for being a fucking idiot. He was working with The Cartel, and though he died, his men ratted out the plan before Fury killed them—their plan being to cut off the Russian’s supply and then kidnap our women and children for sex slaves.

  Yeah—fuck that. Nobody touches our Old Ladies, and nobody even thinks about touching our kids. But, fucking hell, The Cartel is still underground, and we’re all just sitting around waiting for them to strike.

  There’s a tapping on the desk, and I look over to see Torch rapping his finger nervously. He looks up at me, and we lock eyes. What I see is a mixture of worry and anticipation before they completely shut down and I see nothingness.

  Fuck, that dude is no damn joke. He is one scary fucker, and I’m glad that he’s on my side. I’ve never known a man to turn his emotions off the way he can.

  “Just keep vigilant. We’ve heard nothing, not even murmurings,” Fury says.

  “Got nothin’ to report on that front, either. We’re not on lockdown, but we’re running full crews and doing extra welfare checks when the men are on runs away from their families. It’s all we can do right now,” I say. The room fills with grunts of agreement.

  It’s frustrating as fuck, but I don’t know what else to do. Those fuckers went to ground, and they vanished, completely and totally fucking vanished into thin air. If we could smoke them out of whatever fucking hidey hole they’re in, I’d do that shit in a heartbeat.

  “Anything else to report?” Fury asks.

  The room stays silent and then he calls the meeting adjourned.

  Torch is the first to leave. He practically sprints out of the room, and I wonder what on earth his fucking damage is. He’s had some shit on his mind for years, and its probably time he faces the goddamn music about it.

  “Need to have a talk,” Sniper says.

  I nod in agreement, mainly because I was going to say the same thing, except I was busy focusing on Torch. I wait until the room clears out, and then I look up at him.

  “Heard about my parents,” he grunts.

  I wait for him to go into his Hulk, angry self, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tips his head to the side and studies me.

  “You did that for her? For Mary-Anne?” he asks.

  “Yeah. She told me some of the shit she endured. I dealt with it for her,” I admit.

  “Kyle and them, they hurt her, so you killed them?” he asks, a question he really doesn’t need to ask because he knows the truth. I nod as my answer anyway. “I was lying to myself for years. I lied to myself to feel better about my leaving. I told myself he’d never hurt Mary-Anne. She never told me differently, so I chose to believe the lie even more.”

  “He’d been hurting her before you even moved out of the house,” I inform him.

  I watch as his face pales and I feel like shit for telling him. Maybe it’s useless information now, since they’re dead, but it’s information he should know anyway.

  “I didn’t know,” he whispers. “I didn’t want to know,” he admits a second later.

  “You were a kid. She doesn’t hold anything against you, Snipe, you gotta know that,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.

  “Yeah, fuck. You really fucking care for her?”

  “I really do,” I say with a nod. His eyes look up into mine and he nods.

  “I’m glad she has that. You hurt her, prez or not, I’ll fucking kill you—slowly,” he grinds out.

  I almost laugh, because the thought of hurting Mary-Anne is fucking laughable—but I don’t.

  However, I do grin before I shake his hand. Mary-Anne and I are as good as married when it comes to the club, so he’s my brother-in-law, and that brings our family even closer together, considering his wife is the sister of my daughter-in-law, Kentlee.

  “Christmas is going to be interesting this year,” he chuckles.

  “No kidding,” I snort.

  Together, we walk out of the room and into the bar. Torch walks up to me and asks to see me alone. He tells me that he wants to switch charters, that he wants to come to Cali. I nod, seeing that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but that he seems desperate.

  “You’ll tell me the story? I don’t want any blowback on the club for whatever mess you’re in,” I say.

  “It’s personal, nothing to do with the club, but yeah, I’ll tell you, later.”

  “You clear it with Fury and you got a spot with me,” I say lifting my chin.

  Leaving Torch, I make my way toward the bar where I see, Mary-Anne has her head turned away from us, a beer in hand as she talks to West. He’s a good kid, great head on his shoulders, and now that he’s officially a brother, he’s going to climb ranks at fucking lightning speed. I saw it in him the day he showed up asking questions about how to become one of us, and I see it in him still.

  I place my hand on the small of Mary’s back before I slide it around her waist and press a kiss to her temple. She tips her head to the side with a small smile playing on her lips. Then I see it when her eyes catch Sniper’s, and her smile widens.

  “Everything good?” she whispers up at me.

  “Yeah, sweetness, all good,” I confirm as I take a beer from the prospect’s hand across the bar.

  We spend the rest of the evening just relaxing. The girls come by later and we have some beers. Both Kentlee and Brentlee needle me about information on Torch, and why he’s suddenly decided to leave this charter and come to Cali.

  I don’t tell them anything, because I don’t know anything to tell. Some of the guys smoke some green, including me, and we just hangout. We’re one big happy family, and I’m glad there isn’t a big ass party.

  Maybe I’m settling into this relationship, truly settling, because the fact that the music is low, the conversation is good, and my family is here, and everybody is happy—that’s all that I care about. I also already know that I’m getting sweet pussy later. A complete guarantee.

  Once the party starts to die down a bit, the guys that have homes head that way, and the men who live here start fooling around with the whores. Mary turns to me and straddles my lap.

  I’m drunk and high; buzzed, but not completely toasted. Her hands start at my stomach and run up my chest before she leans forward and presses her lips to mine.

  “Come upstairs and fuck
me, baby,” she whispers against my lips.

  I stand up, wrapping my hands around her ass, not asking any questions. I want inside of her again. It’s been hours. Though, it feels like those hours have turned into decades. I want that sweet, warm, cunt wrapped around my dick as quickly as possible.

  “I love you,” she whispers as her lips trail my neck.

  My cock hardens, pressing against the zipper of my jeans, making it uncomfortable as fuck to walk us to the bedroom, but I continue on.

  “Sweetness, you’re gonna have to hang on, because I need to fuck you hard tonight,” I grunt as I kick the bedroom door behind me.

  “Oh, yay,” she giggles.

  I toss her onto the bed, watching her body bounce a couple times before I order her to strip. Then I do the same, my eyes never leaving hers.

  I’m going to fuck her hard, reprint her gorgeous tits with bruises from my fingers, and make her scream for me. Then I’m going to come so hard and so deep inside of her that she’ll assuredly be pregnant.

  I stretch and yawn with a smile. We’ve been home from Idaho for a week, and I finally feel rested. The ride was long, and my ass hurt so bad by the time we came home. I was never so happy to pull up to our little white house as I was the night we arrived back into town.

  Now, I finally feel caught up. I slide out of bed, knowing that I’m home alone. Max is probably at the clubhouse, doing whatever it is he does there all day long. I don’t ask, because I honestly don’t need to know about what is presumably very illegal.

  I make my way downstairs and then walk over to my computer, powering it on to check my emails. I’m so caught up on my work, I’m actually ahead, which is another reason to smile.

  I have an email to make a mockup for a new customer. She’s getting married and wants save the date cards. I work for about an hour, creating something that I think she’ll like—something country, yet classic.

  I walk upstairs with every intention to shower and dress for the day, but the bed looks comfortable, so I climb back inside, falling asleep again.

  “Mary,” a voice calls. I sit up groggily.