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Sniper (Devil's Shadow MC, Book 2)

Page 4

by K. H. Kate


  “You want to hear a story?” The man beside me suddenly asks with a grin. It’s an emotion so different to me nowadays, that I have to try two times before I can tug my lips into a grin. Although he's already lying beside me with his arms loosely around his head.

  “Once there was a Prince-” The snort comes out of nowhere. Out of every tale he could have said, he just had to go classic. The snort doesn’t go unnoticed as his grin widens.

  “What? Just hear me out. You’ll thank me after.” Blue eyes radiate a warm gaze towards me as he continues. “So, as I was saying. Once there was a Prince who didn’t have any friends. He was always angry, snapping at everyone for no reason. Everyone feared him, some even hated him because no one recognized the darkness inside him. Only one boy saw that the Prince was more than just an angry boy. That he didn’t necessarily want to be angry, he was just alone and misunderstood. So he decided to demand the Prince’s attention by punchin’ him straight in the jaw because he was being an asshole. The Prince couldn’t believe that someone could dare to hit him so he punched the boy right back. Within a minute, they were full on kickin’ each other to their death, when the Prince’s uncle caught them, only to drag the boy away for his punishment. I mean who would even dare raise a hand to the Prince and not get punished? Ya know what the Prince said then?”

  He sounds so calm and happy now. Gone the man in that room. He looked like he had the weight of the whole world on his shoulder while here, he look free. A feeling I desperately want to hold in my heart and never let go.

  My stuttered question brings him another look of joy in his eyes. “Wh..at?”

  “He said that it’s the matter between friends and who the fuck wanted to scold his friend. The boy couldn’t talk due to the shock and surprise inside him. After all, the Prince who was an asshole to everyone defended the boy and called him his friend. He even promised to protect the boy from his uncle.”

  The happiness that was surging from him earlier, diminishes immediately. There’s a sigh of dejection that leaves his lips as he sits up to look over the scenery around us. My eyes follow his movement as he stares at the Southside night view.

  “Every day the Prince regrets that he couldn’t keep his promise.” The way he says it- the heavy confession wakes something in me. This is something he doesn’t talk about every day the way his shoulder tense again. Is he giving me that hope now? Or lying for my sake?

  I don’t expect him to look back at me. I don’t expect him to whisper the next words either. “Don’t be like the Prince. Don’t let guilt take over every good thing you have in your life.”

  It wasn’t a story. Oh, no. He shared a part of him with me, which even I won’t be able to share with anyone in the future. He may be the Prince in the story, always filled with a guilty conscience for not being able to keep his promise. Or maybe he’s the boy who wasn’t protected at the end. I could have asked him which one he is. I could have done a lot of things but I know I can never help him like he did.

  He has helped me. He brought peace to my loud thoughts. For once, my head is clear, not filled with dark shadows.

  And, it scares me to wonder, if I can ever afford any more than that.

  CHAPTER 10

  SNIPER

  Between the two weeks of Christmas break and holding out on the unenviable, the blow still hurts like a motherfucker. No matter how much blood has been shed, no matter how many we have lost…it still makes me cripple with pain to let one of us go. It still gives me a reminder that maybe the next bullet will be for me. Or Lethal, or Reaper, Foxy, Hawk, Vixen…any fucking one.

  None of us are really as invisible as we thought.

  “You see that woman? That’s one of the prospect’s mama. Poor woman has been cryin’ all day.” Foxy says, forcing my gaze to revert to the petite woman beside a casket. Tears may have painted her face into a grieving mama, but her face still holds a silent promise of rage.

  A rage that I can’t help but share. “Has she any family left?”

  Foxy shakes her head. “Nope. The prospect was the only girl.”

  She can’t be any more than forty and lost her only girl. How can anyone come back from that guilt?

  It’s like Foxy can understand what’s in my head. Fuck, I forgot to mask the rage. These days, I’m more like Lethal than ever. To her credit, she ignores the glare thrown over the other caskets. “There’s nothin’ we could have been done, Sniper. This is the life we’ve chosen for ourselves. Someone was always bound to be collateral damage.”

  Collateral damage. Cracking my knuckles doesn’t leave the fact that these people aren’t coming back. “That doesn’t lessen the guilt, Foxy. These people didn’t deserve death. They had a fuckin’ future but now all that is…just gone.”

  “I know. When this woman heard that Cornwall was dead, she was so damn happy, ya know. They all were free from that bastard only to get caught up in the club business. Now look what happened. These kids died just before getting patched.”

  True to her words, Lethal was going to patch these kids. But of course, Mad Dog can never leave without marking his presence like a fucking bastard. Even in death, he ruined families of these prospects. Some of them lost their daughter, some lost their brother. It’s like he’s winning even from the grave.

  “Wanna say your peace?” Foxy nudges my shoulder to where the pastor has been saying his peace all along. I want to but what the fuck would I say?

  I’m sorry we couldn’t save ya like we promised? Sorry you were all caught up in the wrong side of the business?

  They deserve better than that. Maybe that’s why I let her go alone. If only, fishing the packet of cigars and dragging one after another could take away the guilt. For so damn long, I just watch the parents cry for their kids. I inhale harder when Hawk leaves their patches and cuts on the caskets, declaring them as one of us Devils. And my last resort to leave comes, when that woman finally faints in Foxy’s arms.

  “You doin’ ok, brother?” Reaper looks over, offering me a flask. At any time, I’d be muttering curses at him for being disrespectful to the dead, but can I really blame him when I was just chain-smoking the whole packet?

  “Thanks.” I state, taking the flask. A couple of coiled skulls peek out behind his arms, finishing at his half bald head. I can’t stop the words from leaving my lips.

  “What did you do? Dump your body in the tank of ink?”

  He scoffs, stealing one of my cigars. “They finally caught up to my face, the number of deaths. These tallies keep me in line, brother. It’s an annoyin’ reminder that I’ll only end up like them if I fuck up.” A sigh of anger leaves his lips along with a pool of smoke. “Buried in the fuckin’ ground at twenty-six.”

  After Christmas, he shaved half his head and covered the rest of his body in ink. If he looked like a decent human before, now he proudly owns his name, Reaper. Maybe that’s how he stays sane. Maybe that’s his choice of poison, so I take his words by swallowing the rest of the drink in one gulp.

  “Think you can handle the rest? I think I’m gonna head to the safe house. Time to take care of Vixen’s sis.”

  One look at me and he’s already calling for a prospect to give me a lift. Hell, even he knows in this state, I will only end up crashing my bike into the side of a road. Shaking my head, I take the offer without a word. Only when we are in the safe house that I notice another funeral we all missed.

  When the prospect goes back the way he came, I have no reason to hide what I feel seeing the two woman hovering over a makeshift temporary shrine in the garage. Someone has placed a photo and white flowers to go with that, but no one can mask the bloodshot eyes of both. Wrapped around each other, they show more emotion than I have ever seen from any one of them.

  Before I can walk away to give them privacy, one turns around ready to leave. However, she comes to a startled stop once she notices me standing there with my hands in my pocket, desperately trying to find another packet of poison to take the edge away.


  “Seth?” Grace asks, tilting her head to reach my gaze. “Is it done? I thought I could still join them-”

  “I left early.” I cut her off with a shrug. “It was too much.”

  She nods, accepting my answer. Though I can feel the anxiety from her rising ten-fold the more I walk toward the other woman staring at the photo. Before I can reach her, Grace’s words nail me to a stop.

  “I know you have been taking her to somewhere every night. I didn’t ask because Gwen didn’t complain but…but I need reassurance.”

  To be fair, taking Gwen every night to my favorite place was unfair to Grace when so much has already happened. I should have let her know. Maybe I should have taken permission from Grace first but I promised Gwen that I’d help her. And taking her there helps her. I don’t know how but it does.

  I fucking know it.

  “I trust you, Seth. You know, I do.” Grace continues. “But when it comes to my sister, I don’t want to take any kind of risks. Not again.”

  I understand. I do but something has me asking a different question. One that makes her take a step back in shock.

  “Did I make a mistake that night? Killin’ him?” I don’t have to point my finger to ask who I am talking about. We both see how Kitty silently suffers from something I did.

  It takes Grace a full minute to say something. “I don’t know. It’s still bizarre, you know? Before that day, he was my friend. The man I could trust blindly, the man I can never doubt but things changed him. I have accepted it, she didn’t.”

  Something claws in my heart. Pain? “So…was she his old lady?”

  She smiles, but the smile has no joy in them. “If you are asking if they were together then no, not really. They both had feelings for each other but before Josh could ask her out-” A painful squeak leaves her lips. “Our world was in chaos.”

  Does that lessen the guilt a little bit? I console myself that hell fucking yes, it does. But the look on her face, when she first heard the news about that man’s death, it still haunts me. Maybe that’s why I let Grace know where we go every night. Maybe that’s why I follow Gwen when she finally leaves the garage to her room. Though she can’t even show me the rage I deserve.

  I enter the room, fully intend to tell her how it was me who killed Josh. I even open my mouth to blurt out all the words but she has already looked up to me with those eyes. Eyes that seek help. Eyes that want to hear a lie. A Kitty that will do anything to leave the pain inside her.

  “He..lp me.”

  I reach for her, thinking she wants me to take her to that building so that I can tell her another story, give her hope again but she keeps tugging my shirt hard enough for me to frown.

  “I'm takin’ you to-”

  She shakes her head, finger raising with a frown of her own. Though the next, I’m hit with another blow. And, it hurts just as bad as the event of our prospects being lowered into the ground.

  Lips touch mine softly, too fast for me to understand what the fuck is happening. Only when her eyes look at me in a desperate plea, that I’m able to blurt a word.

  "Did you-" The thought of hearing the exact words she did in action, makes an insane amount of work for me to hide the fact that she's urging me to start something we both will regret. "Did you just kiss me?”

  Finally, there's a fire in her eyes. They look so different than the one I'm used to. And surprisingly I decide that I like them better.

  "He...lp me."

  Again that stuttered reply. Good ol’ Seth will refuse her. Staying far away from any trouble that doesn't belong to the club. But I'm too tired of cleaning everyone's mistakes. I just want to be free and not think about the consequences. From this distance, her scent makes my nostril flare. Urging me to do this one mistake. Maybe more.

  "I will ruin you." It's a promise, not a statement. There might have been a protest from the rational part of my brain but I'm already leaning closer. Her eyes are wide staring at me with a look I can't understand. I don't care- they scream at me. Just be free...Her eyes only darken when a thumb is pressed against her soft lips.

  A small moan leaves her lips, feeling my jeans tightening more. Fuck! I want more. I want to hear her scream in pleasure. I want her in my bed moaning my name. Even if it's a mistake I can't back away. I can't think. I can't waste away in pain. And when her lips finally touch mine-

  The missing nicotine in my pocket is just fucking history.

  CHAPTER 11

  GWEN

  Today I said goodbye to Josh. But did I really?

  His smile still lingers, those empty promises still haunt me.

  So why can’t I respect his love and stay away from this man? Why am I throwing myself at someone who is selfless enough to kiss me back? Who makes me clutch the bed sheet in anticipation. Who offered to help even if he could've just said no?

  "Is it ok?" A gruff finger trails its way to my neck. It's a pointless question. But I nod anyway.

  It's Ok, Gwen.

  Just let him wash away your numbness. You need to cry. You need to remember Josh. You need to forget that night.

  "Fuck Kitty." Before I can think anymore, he has his lips against me again. Biting, tasting, and giving. His fingers are running along my long hair in a desperate frenzy. Such an unusual act. His touch doesn't bring back the feeling of a thousand worms running around my body. It only brings...a fire that starts from my toes. Not the kind that burns me, the kind that ruins me.

  Just as he promised.

  I don't know who starts undressing first. Me or him. I'm not a match to do anything other than wait for him to relieve me from the suffocating orange shirt Debra chose for me to wear. His own follows next, recklessly thrown into the dark corner.

  His eyes never leave mine when his lips follow a leisurely trail on my body. Or is it my imagination when for a second he gulps like he doesn't know what to do?

  "How much would she be worth if we take her to the club to share? Prez wouldn't mind. Hell free pussy, imagine it." No, no, no...Not now. They can't have me now. They need to stay in the corner. Nightmares can't take me away. I won't allow it.

  Though I can't dwell on the fact for long, when I'm impatient for his touch. In a second he has removed my bra and his thumb starts tugging at my hard bud. My body stiffens, causing me to arch my back. A harsh whimper fills my ears. Someone is crying alright. But not in pain. Not in lost love.

  They are crying for more.

  "Beautiful, Kitty. So beautiful."

  "She's so dirty. Do you think she would survive the day?" I have to. I have to live. One step at a time.

  "I didn't lie. You are beautiful." He repeats again as if chanting them in his head.

  Who?

  I can't be beautiful. No, he doesn't think that either. His eyes are on my eyes, not on the rising and falling drums of my breasts. Whatever he sees in them urges him to pin me flat on the mattress and makes me feel just how much he wants me.

  He's pulsing.

  Thicker than I'd ever have thought. Harder than his clenched jaw. That much I'm sure of when my fingers brush over his hard-on. His fingers help me unzip his pants and then I'm touching him, feeling him, taking him. All of him.

  Seth...

  His ocean blue eyes burn, watching my every reaction. He feeds on my broken moans, his grips on my hips just as harsh as if he can't control himself from what he's feeling. Stroking him at a slow pace, his hips slamming into my hand. Oh God...it feels...God! I haven't felt like this since...

  ...Never.

  This fact makes me laugh inside. I have never felt pleasure, not an orgasm either. Even before Josh's mark was on me, I was tainted. He was too late to make me his. Just like it’s too late for me to face the man who betrayed me in a whim. My mind wonders for what could have been when Seth’s eyes meet mine.

  He is watching. Waiting for me to break.

  For me to hate his advances.

  When he finds neither, his warm mouth latches onto my hard nipples that I have to curl my fing
er into his hair to keep him there. He laps, sucks, bites, his teeth grazes and I scream. Crying doesn't do it for me anymore. My lungs have a new harmony. He doesn't disappoint me though. His hands are already working between my legs. The wet sound of his finger swiping over the length of my slit has me jerking in surprise. How does it even feel...Oh, in and out, slow and fast? Two, three, or more invades me that I can't bite back the screams threatening to break out.

  Surprisingly Josh doesn't break into my mind to shame me farther. He doesn't scold me for letting Seth to have his fingers deep in my pussy. He truly forgot about me. He's truly gone.

  I'm too greedy to stop Seth when his lips take mine in a harsh kiss. It's a hunger for each other. An unknown emotion I can't figure out in his eyes.

  "Come, Kitty. Come all over my drenched fingers."

  Oh, God...White light blinds me, the scream unexpectedly leaving from my lips. All I know is I'm floating, I'm free and soon he's joining. My hands are now drenched with him. In his scent, his essence.

  "What do you want me to do?" His request is delivered in a pained rasp. "Tell me, Kitty, how do you want me? Long and hard or slow?"

  Hard.

  Slow.

  I want him anyway he can offer me.

  "H-Ha…rd."

  With a groan, his eyes lift to meet mine. But this time they don't share the inhuman lust. This time he's tired. He's...slipping away from me. Literally and figuratively. And I can't stop him when he jumps from the bed as if...as if I repulsed him.

  "Shit!" His pants are still bunched around his ankle. Though I'm sure he doesn't care about it. He's too busy trying to avoid me. "Fuck! What have I done?"

  It's hard to suck any air in.

  It's harder to get rejected.

  You thought it meant anything? Fool you are indeed, Gwen.

  "I-I am sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't do this. Not now...not like this." Still, he doesn't leave me. A hand rakes through his hair messing it up even more but his eyes are on me. For what? I'm sorry.

 

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