Done with my business, I walk back to where the men zip their flies. My lover-now-savior reaches into his backpack and throws me a bottle of water. Without speaking, the other men do the same for their passengers.
I have so many questions but before I can ask, engines roar and we bump back onto the road.
Wearing his unzipped jacket, my chest presses into his firm back and my hands caress the abs of his waist. With my ear to his body, I catch him groan and it goes right between my legs. I lower my hands to the top button of his jeans, and he tenses and swells.
I ache to release him, stop this journey, and find a place to share our passion but it’s a ridiculous thought. We need to reenter the states so I can tell my story and keep those bastards in McAllen from ever doing this again.
For the first time since getting kidnapped, I remember the children and wonder if the rally influenced anyone in Washington.
God, I hope so. After being subjected to similar treatment, I can’t imagine a child having to go through such torment.
I slip my hands higher when we turn onto a freeway with signs in both English and Spanish.
At the border, they ask for ID’s. The men, of course, have passports but the women do not. It’s no surprise we’re asked off the bikes and taken inside for questioning.
We sit in cheap plastic chairs in a room without windows while phone calls are made.
Chris buys a water from a vending machine and we all pass it around. I could eat a ten course meal but say nothing. I just want to go home.
Chapter 19
Chris
I pace the small border room, fuming. What the hell can be taking so long? Annoyed, I pick up my phone and call the same dude who bought her video.
They connect me immediately to the reporter. “I found them but we’re being detained at the border.”
“We’ll have you out in a jiffy.”
Sure enough, a brown border officer returns in about ten minutes, face red. “Apologies. I had no idea you were the ones who were mistakenly sent from the protest. Would you please sign here?”
Danni looks down and shakes her head. “I’m not signing anything. Get me a lawyer.”
The guard’s eyebrows crease. “It could take hours.”
“I don’t care.” She stands with her hands on her waist and puts her nose in his face. “I have been caged, kidnapped, and almost killed. Now, you want me to sign something stating you were not at fault? Are you fucking kidding me? Yes, I read Spanish you, you, jerk!”
I chuckle and my dad, guffaws at the surprised guy. “Guess you didn’t see that one coming.”
She peers at the badge on the man’s chest and repeats the number twice. “If you don’t give us food and water immediately, I shall be naming you, personally, in my lawsuit.”
“Hey, I was just following orders.”
She puts her palm in his face. “Say it to the hand because I am pissed the fuck off. Apparently, you are not used to dealing with American citizens because we have rights and you have violated so many, I can’t even count.”
She stomps her foot and points her finger. “Water, food, and bathroom! Is that so much to ask?”
I got my cell phone streaming live on Facebook while my dad and his biker pals stand with their arms crossed in front of me. The border guard, about my age, is without a doubt having the worst day of his life.
He returns with a bald man in his sixties whose smile doesn’t reach his piercing blue eyes. Sharp creases on his starched uniform bend as he scratches his ivory head.
“Do we have a problem here?”
“Yes, sir. I have been abducted, assaulted, and now, detained without the benefit of a lawyer. I would like one, now, please.
The officer’s eyes glance to my outstretched hand, recording everything. “You need to shut that off.”
I shrug but don’t stop. “Just practicing my first amendment rights.”
The man frowns and grabs my girl’s upper arm. “Come with me.”
“No!” Danni’s mouth drops opens and her eyes go wide. “Please, Chris, don’t let him take me.”
All six men in the room take a step forward before I can jump to the rescue.
“For the love of God, I’m not going to hurt her.” He holds up his hands and steps back.
Outside, sirens sound and a helicopter wop-wops overhead.
“You might want to turn on the TV.” I glance down to the US side of the border where a blue van with an CNN logo is parked beside a curb. A woman with a microphone in front of her face points up at the window and I wave.
“Fuck.” The bald officer turns on a heel and steps out of the room.
“You’re safe with me.”
When she stops shivering, I lead my woman to where the men in Pop’s club wait. “I guess I should introduce everyone. This is my dad, Faust.”
He nods, then I point to each of my brothers, in turn. “And these are his men, Poison, Blade, Rubber…”
The other three step forward and introduce themselves.
“I’m Spike.”
“Mack.”
“Dragon.”
“Thank you all, for coming to our rescue.” The catholic sister with a huge cross necklace takes my dad’s hand and the tops of his cheeks turn red.
“Da nada. Someone had to do something. Sorry, my son had to spill blood.” My old man winks at me because I start to object.
He would’ve done worse if he was closer.
The bald officer clears his throat as he stands in the doorway with a young guy in a cheap suit. “This is your court appointed lawyer. Will that suffice until yours shows up?”
Pops steps up. “Let me see your credentials, son.”
The blond twenty-year old with a beard and man-bun nods, pulls out his wallet, and hands my dad a card.
Pops grabs his phone and thumbs the screen until he’s satisfied by some page online. “You’ll do.”
The older officer sighs. “Now that’s settled, I’m going to record the proceedings. Any objections?”
We all listen as the women alternate, telling what happened from the time they picked up the boxes until we found them outside the hideout.
Anger management be damned, I pace, ready to kill the bastards who put her in detention then sold them to the highest bidders. Pops and I understand how the border works in McAllen which is why we went out of our way to use this bigger crossing.
All of our weapons are legal so they got no reason to hold us. The dead guy, I’m sure the smugglers will never report. The poor bastard is six feet under or left in the middle of nowhere for the buzzards to pick at him.
Frankly, I don’t give a damn except I wish she hadn’t seen it. I’ve worked so damn hard to leave my biker days behind and now it looks as if it’s finally caught up with me.
She sighs and sips her water as she gets to the part where we rescue her.
“So, this guy grabs my hand but Chris kicks the knife out of his hand. The Mexicans were so scared, they ran off.”
She leaves out the part where I killed him. Smart girl.
“Is that how it happened? The officer looks to Sister Mary Frances.”
“I was in the van but when I came out, everyone was gone.”
“We’ve checked your weapons. They were recently fired.”
“We shot into the air, to scare them. It worked.” My dad grins.
Outside, the helicopter circles, reminding us all of the media coverage.
“You can go. Fuck if I care what you did. Glad you all are safely back. I don’t expect to be seeing you boys again. Am I right?”
“No sir. Don’t care much for south of the border.”
With the club’s legal weapons returned, we all mount up and my woman slides behind me with her arms around my waist. This moment would be perfect except I wish we were heading to a hotel instead of Pop’s bar.
Fifteen minutes later we pull into the parking lot where Marlene, my dad’s woman, opens a screen door and ushers us in. “Damn.
Y’all know how to create a shit storm.”
She kisses him soundly. “Good to have you home.”
Turning to Danni, the bartender clicks her tongue. “Honey, you look like somethin’ my cat dragged in. Let’s get you fed, then you can shower upstairs and nap.”
The woman turns to me and punches my arm. “You, too, brat.”
We all sit at one of the larger tables while she pours a couple pitchers of beers and sets them down. The cold fluid goes down smooth after hours on the road.
Marlene points the remote up at the monitor behind the bar and the volume rises. “… has no comment. The president has refused to change his position but at the public outcry, he can’t hold out any longer. NATO is considering sanctions for human rights violations.”
When my girl comes down, I pull her into my lap and kiss her wet head. “You okay?”
“I’m worried about Karen.”
“Mrs. Griswold is watching her.” I hand her my phone. “Here. Call her.”
They talk for a moment. Danni reassures her sister all is well but I wonder. She hasn’t said a peep hardly. According to the stuff I read in anger management, things you hold onto have a tendency to fester.
I wait until we’ve devoured burgers and sweet potato fries before asking, “You haven’t said boo all day.”
“I’m tired. That’s all.” She yawns and leans back, and her eyes close.
I stand, pick her up, and catch Pop’s gaze. “Is my old room rented out?”
Dad chuckles. “Not that I haven’t tried. Who the hell would want to live above a biker bar?”
“It wasn’t all bad.” I grin as I recall all the fights and skin I witnessed as a kid.
“Are you coming back down?” He takes another gulp of beer and burps.
“Ah, probably not. I want to be there if she wakes. She may need to talk. I think she may have gone into shock.”
“Good God, kid. Who are you and what did you do with Christof?” Marlene sets some shots on the table and the guys laugh.
I ignore their good natured jibes as I move sideways up the narrow staircase. At the top, I place Danni on the bed I grew up in.
I remove her soiled sneakers and socks. After setting them aside, I pull down her light leggings and undies. Her top comes off over her head and I unhitch the plastic tab between her breasts.
She stirs a little and her eyes open. “I really don’t feel like-”
“Like sex? No shit, sweetheart. I’m just going to clean you up a little and put us to bed.”
Her eyes close, her breath becomes even, and something twangs in my chest. I care for this brave woman. Hell, she’d watched a man die with a knife to the eye as bullets pinged inches over her head. Then, she’d climbed on the back of my motorcycle and rode for hours without complaint.
I chuckle as I recall how she gave the border guard a piece of her mind.
To be honest, I need sleep as much as her, but first I need to clear up something with Pops.
As I walk down the stairs, he’s laughing with the guys as they recount the kidnapper’s surprised faces when we surrounded their place.
“Faust, I need a moment. Outside?”
He nods, finishes his beer, and his chair squeaks as he drags it back to stand.
We stroll to the parking lot as he lights a cigar. “What’s up?”
“That agent you sent to help with my bills, Shannon? Tell me a little more about him.”
“Not a whole lot to tell.” He puffs at the stogie until the red tip lights.
“How do you know him?”
“My business dabbles in this and that. I happened across him, took his card, and figured I might need him someday. When you called me, whining how you was all out of funds, I called him and said we could do some business.”
“Shit.” This is what I feared.
“You were planning on getting a piece of me, is that it?”
“I’m your father, if you were going to make millions, I should earn a few bucks for my trouble. You were a real pain in my ass, growing up.” He makes an ‘O’ with his mouth and blows out a smoke ring.
“You sent a syndicate man to help me out. Fuck. I should’ve guessed.” My fists clench at my side and his gaze drifts down.
“Yes, son, you should’ve.”
Sorry, Mrs. Griswold but I am fucking pissed. “Well, Pops, I didn’t have a clue. I figured he was a shyster, out for a quick buck, not organized crime. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He shrugs. “It’s all water under the bridge. What’s your beef?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” Dammit. I need to help make this right.
Chapter 20
Danni
Crows squawk outside, waking me from a sound sleep and my eyes pop open. For a moment my heart races until I recall I’m no longer in captivity. Cool sheets soothe my skin, a light breeze blows in the white curtains, and the yellow light of dawn peeks in.
My whole body aches, starting with my thigh muscles that straddled a motorcycle for hours. Then, there’s my butt, my neck, and my sunburned arms.
Chris stirs with his morning chub pressed to my ass as we spoon. I still can’t believe he saved me.
A vision of his knife slicing through the air by my ear sends shivers down my back. Who is this man who holds me in his arms? I should get on a plane and head straight back to Freedham. I’ve got no business falling for a man born into a biker clan.
“Mmm.” His arms tighten around me, his cock goes harder, and one hand cups my breast.
My clit swells as if he were caressing me there and I gasp. Before we fuck, I should discuss what happened yesterday. I had a life and death experience and I’ve changed.
When the kidnapper held a knife to my cheek, I thought for sure I was going to die. My biggest regret? I never told anyone how I really felt about anything.
Until Karen came into my life, I never argued, not even with Scott. Most of the time, we were in sync, but now, I wonder. Were we in agreement or was I ignoring my needs?
After almost dying, my priorities have changed. Not only that, every light, sound, and touch feels as if I’ve been reborn.
I wiggle my butt into him until Chris wakes more fully.
“I’m guessing you slept well?” He nibbles my ear and his tongue sweeps inside it
I turn in his arms and kiss him, hoping my breath isn’t dreadful but if it is, he doesn’t mind. His mouth clamps down onto mine and his hand slides behind my head, holding me in place. I spar with his tongue as my left hand glides up and down his chest.
My other hand holds his soft bearded cheek as my eyes lock onto his. Yesterday, I never thanked him for saving me because words seemed inadequate.
Even today, the only language I speak is the one my body offers.
The centers of his eyes widen until they almost cover the gold. Leaving my mouth bereft, he kisses down my neck and tongues my collar bone. Then, he nips and sucks at my breasts until the pink tips point and I squirm.
“Chris. Please.”
“Patience.” He takes his time bringing my temperature to a full boil.
I knead his shoulders, his back, and twirl the studs in his nipples.
He groans, kisses down my stomach and stops at my belly button. Slowly, he makes his way into my short curls, to my mound. Kneeling on the floor, he spreads my legs wide, and stops to stare.
I pulse and liquids within me gush at his heated gaze. His lips kiss my mound and I moan. His tongue flicks across my sensitive spot and the bud blossoms more. When he curls an index finger into me, I cry out.
With two erotic zones climbing toward madness, his left hand reaches up to a nipple and he pinches hard.
Holy shit. Lightning flashes behind my eyelids, my body shudders, and I fly apart.
While I shake, he sheaths himself, places his wide tip at my opening, and thrusts in fully. Core to core, I bite his hand to prevent myself from screaming.
My emotions razor sharp, I lift to meet him. My legs wrap around his t
highs and my feet clamp on tight as I grab onto his butt.
In the past he’s been more controlled but this morning, he shares my need to let go. Every plunge into me is an affirmation of life, of love, of heaven.
I slip my firm grip from his legs, dig my heels into the bed and arch up as he strains for his release.
A guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest as he finds his high. Twice more he pushes until he collapses on top of me, sweaty and spent.
We lay quiet for the longest time, gently touching each other, exploring. After he pulls out, he ties off his condom, and tosses it in the trash.
“Shower?”
I nod. “Oh my God, yes. Is anyone else here?”
“Nah. Dad and Marlene have a house about a mile away. Pops only uses the master bedroom if they’re fighting.” He snickers.
“What?”
“I’m just glad they’re getting along, that’s all.”
Our shower takes longer than it should because he insists on soaping me, shampooing me, and making love under the warm spray.
With my hands on the tiles, I lean over. Standing behind me, he places his swollen member at my opening, pushes up, and fills me. Again, we do the dance of life, this time with the shower pulsing overhead. One hand on my hip, a fingertip at my nub, he bucks until I scream with pure delight. Only then does he follow with a loud shout of his own.
Sweaty, we wash. When finished, he dries every inch of me with a soft green towel.
His amber eyes search my face and he kisses me again. “We should talk… about yesterday.”
“How about we make some coffee, first?”
Chapter 21
Chris
Danni hasn’t said anything about her ordeal. I may not be Dr. Phil but I’m smart enough to understand it’s not healthy.
Downstairs, I make breakfast on the grill behind the bar while she sits on a stool sipping orange juice. Her pretty mouth is all swollen from my kisses and her cheeks are still red from our love making. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.
“I never thanked you for saving me.”
“Huh?” The sizzling bacon and large fan make conversation difficult. Not only that, I was thinking about sex and a lot more of it which is probably not appropriate to say.
Tough Break (FSCU Pitbulls Book 3) Page 9
