Sin: A Dark & Dirty MC Romance (Satan's Sinners Book 3)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Not until I could get her into some martial art classes or something where she could stop anyone from bitch slapping her.

  “Okay,” she muttered.

  “What are you going to do now?” I questioned.

  “Stay here and not get out of the car?”

  “That’s right.”

  Thinking I’d pinned her down, I walked off. When I strode over to the gate that was a boring, unpainted steel with straight up and down bars, I saw the Prospect wander over to the middle, his eyes on my legs, which were as thick as my butt.

  He didn’t care that they were, from the looks of the grin he shot my way.

  I grinned back, then greeted, “Hey!”

  “Hey,” he rumbled, and I’d admit, he was a cutie pie, and I’d totally have boned him if I was his age.

  But that ship had long since sailed. He looked to be about twenty-three, and while he’d be a nice sojourn, I didn’t intend to fuck up the sanctuary I was bringing Katina and me to by fucking some dude and making shit awkward.

  I had a kid to think of now.

  I was a momma. Sort of.

  I mean, I didn’t tell her to drink milk and shit, but I did tell her to do her homework, so I figured that had to count.

  Right?

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  His brow arched. “Me? I’ve been waiting all my life for you.”

  I grinned. “Does that ever work?”

  His wink told me that it didn’t. “Sometimes.”

  “Wellll, in this case, no, not you. Maverick? He’s on the council. I need to speak with him. He agreed to let me stay here a while.”

  His brows rose at that, and I knew I’d told him a lot of information that very few would know.

  Maverick was a bit of a ghost too. Had been ever since he’d returned from overseas. Most people weren’t even sure if he’d survived the blast that had stuck him in a wheelchair, and truth be told, I was one of the people who’d worked hard to bury his identity, because I was a good friend like that.

  He pulled out a cell phone and told me, even though he couched it as a question, “Just give me a second?”

  “Of course.”

  I watched as he wandered up the drive, talking on his phone as I checked out his ass.

  “He’s cute.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Thought I told you to stay in the car. How do you even know what cute is anyway?” She was eight, for God’s sake.

  “I know what cute is because I have eyes.” She tutted. “And he went away, so I can come and talk to you.”

  “The theory being that you’ll dash away the second he comes back?” I snorted—like that was going to happen. “You think I was born yesterday?”

  She beamed up at me. “Yes, because you’re soooo beautiful.”

  “And I look that young, huh?”

  “You totally do.”

  I curved an arm around her shoulders. “You’re precocious, you know that, right?”

  She hummed. “I prefer the term ‘blunt.’”

  “Precocious,” I repeated.

  When the Prospect, who I recognized as such because he was wearing a cut with a Prospect patch on it—I was a smart bitch sometimes—turned back around and saw me with her, he froze. But when he came back to life again, he moved over to the gate and opened it up for me.

  “Thanks!” I called out, even as I returned to the car with Kat at my side.

  When she hopped in the front seat—I didn’t tell her off because there was no point now—I slowly crawled up the drive, being careful because it was tight and my Porsche was wide, and there were little white pebbles that lined the strip of asphalt.

  The sight amused me, even if it was actually practical. I’d noticed this shit about a lot of MCs. The women tended to pretty up the compound without the men really even noticing, so it meant that there was really girly shit going down, and the guys didn’t say jack because it just floated over their head.

  I’d learned a lot from the Old Ladies I’d come across in my time.

  It was better to do than to ask, because if you asked, you could be refused. Mostly, whatever you were asking your man for wouldn’t even register in their minds, so what was the point in chancing a refusal in the first place?

  There was an MC down in Texas where the Prez’s Old Lady wasn’t in charge—God forbid that in a ‘man’s’ world—but she definitely held sway. There were all kinds of pretty shit in the compound. A kind of gazebo thing, a firepit, lots of flowers and stuff.

  It wasn’t to my taste, but it certainly made the grim buildings the compounds usually consisted of look less like a prison camp, and boy, did some of them need Queer Eye to make these places presentable.

  When we rolled past the pebbles that had been painted white—by someone who deserved a medal, because that must have been boring as hell—I parked up in front of the building.

  It wasn’t as ugly as most, but it sure as fuck wasn’t pretty. Looked like something Stephen King would write about, and because King would find it suitable, I liked how gritty it was.

  I was, however, glad we wouldn’t be staying inside it. Mav had said as much on the phone yesterday when we’d texted one another, but I had confirmation because the man himself was outside the front door, waiting on us.

  When we climbed out of the car, he arched a brow at the sight of the kid with me. I knew when I’d told him I was bringing a guest, the last thing he expected was for that guest to be a child.

  My lips twitched as his jaw dropped before he started glaring at Kat like he fucking hated her or something.

  For a second, I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with him. Mav knew how to hide his expression, for fuck’s sake. And as far as I knew, he’d never had any problems with kids before.

  Of course, that was before he’d almost had his dick blown off—

  “How can a kid be wanted?”

  I tipped my chin up, guilt hitting me because I was bringing a lot of shit to their door if the cops came looking for her. “I took her out of a bad situation.”

  His mouth narrowed, before, softly, he asked her, “Is your name Katina?”

  It was my turn for me to gape. “How the fuck did you know that?” I scowled at him just as hard, just as mean, before I demanded, “Kat, get back in the car.” When, of course, the little shit didn’t obey, I moved so I was between her and my ex brother-in-arms, and snarled, “Have you been spying on me, you fucker?”

  “No,” he stated grimly, “I’ve been looking for her too. So I know she’s in the foster system in fucking Ohio. What the hell have you done, Lodestar?”

  I lurched back, prompting Kat to stumble and huff as she fought her way around me. “You’ve been looking for Kat? Why?” Far as I knew, she hadn’t even been lost…not until I took her away from Ohio, I mean.

  “Her sister asked me to find her,” he rumbled, and Kat whispered brokenly, “Star?”

  When she huddled into me, her body turning as tiny as her voice, I glared at him harder.

  Kat was vulnerable, delicate. Sure, she was getting stronger, and her attitude was twice her body weight, but fuck, this was not the way to go about shit.

  “This is just cruel,” I snapped at him. “I’ve been on the hunt for Alessa ever since Kat came into my life.”

  He blinked. “How did she?”

  “You said it yourself—she was in the foster system.” I tipped my chin up. “I decided it was time to become a mom.”

  His eyes flared wide at that, but not with amusement or surprise, just outright horror. “Star, if anyone wasn’t made to be a mom, it’s you. Do you remember to feed her and shit?”

  “I’m not a dog,” Kat said with a sniff, sounding more like her ballsy self.

  He wriggled his shoulders. “Christ, this is not going down how I thought it would.” He reached up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and muttered, “Katina? I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself better, but you look so much like Ghost, I mean, your sister Alessa, that it
’s crazy.”

  “Ghost?” I echoed with a frown.

  “Yeah, it’s her nickname.”

  I rolled my eyes at that. “Some fucking nickname. Bet Link picked it.”

  Mav snorted. “You’d be right.”

  “Always was a charmer.” I sucked in my cheeks. “Anyway, care to share?”

  He raised his hand and stunned me by waggling his fingers, revealing a wedding band. A goddamn wedding band. “Ghost’s my wife.”

  I gaped at him again. “Shut the front door.”

  His grin was a combination of wicked and sheepish. “It’s true.”

  Christ, did Ghost know what the fuck she was getting herself into?

  Mav was into…

  Well.

  Okay, I didn’t know, exactly, but there’d always been rumors about him in our unit.

  Fuck.

  And Ghost had to be fragile too. Could a woman who’d been bought and sold like a piece of meat at a market be anything but?

  Still, I knew the years had changed Mav. He’d not only matured, thanks to the passing of time, but as a person, being injured, going through his PTSD, and dealing with his agoraphobia, it had altered him.

  I hoped for Ghost’s sake that it was for the better.

  “This is surreal,” I muttered gruffly. “I don’t like coincidences.”

  “Maybe it’s destiny,” Kat murmured softly, staring at Mav with wide eyes. I tensed at the word, and tensed even more when she whispered, “That’s why we came here, Star. Everything had to happen the exact way it did, or we wouldn’t be here.”

  “Why did you come here?” Mav inquired, head tilted to the side as he rolled toward us.

  The sneaky fucker—those goddamn wheels of his were quieter than soft soles.

  I eyed him as he moved toward us like he was on a chariot or something, and muttered, “Need to lay low for a while.”

  “You’ve put Kat in danger?”

  I stiffened, but what could I say? His tone made me want to punch him in the fucking face, but also, he wasn’t wrong.

  I had put us both in danger.

  For myself, I could deal with that. I was used to living in hot water. My feet were pretty much made of asbestos now or something. I was so used to it, they could feel the flicker of a flame but never be burned.

  I was even more used to being on the run.

  But with a kid? Shit was different. I mean, she definitely cramped my style, but it was worth it.

  I loved the little shit.

  Sure, she gave me crap, but fuck, with her, I wasn’t lonely.

  And Mav could go suck his own cock.

  I was a good mom.

  Not a very responsible one, but I was good.

  She’d stopped pissing the bed, hadn’t she? That wasn’t because I’d waved a magic wand.

  “I’ve been on the hunt for Alessa,” I told him. “Might have ruffled a few feathers along the way.”

  He dipped his chin. “Makes sense.” Mav cut Kat a soft look. “Sorry if I scared you before, Kat, I didn’t mean to. It just came as a massive surprise.”

  She ducked her head, and shyly whispered, “I bet.”

  “Would you like to meet your sister?”

  That had her peering over at him. “I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

  Years.

  Fuck.

  That was how long Ghost had been locked away.

  It still messed with my mind.

  Apparently, it messed with Mav’s too, because his eyes nearly bugged out at that. “Years?”

  She shrugged. “Yes.” Then, she murmured, “Do you think she’ll like me? I’ve changed a lot.”

  Squeezing her arm, I told her, “She’s going to fucking love you, kid. You’re awesome. Just don’t tell her she’s got a zit or anything, and you’re good.”

  I ignored Mav’s confused look, enjoying Kat’s little nervous giggle. I was used to soothing her though, and fuck…

  Would she not need me now that she had her sister?

  Christ, this was not going down how I thought it would.

  This was all that fucker aCooooig’s fault.

  I’d gotten us into the shit with the Five fucking Points to find Kat’s sister, but as much as I hunted her down, I felt like I’d never find her.

  It was worse than a needle in a haystack—it was a goddamn nightmare. Especially as every folder I seemed to open revealed more home truths that would take years to dig through.

  So, for all that to have been in vain, but to be here and to have found her? As easy as this?

  Christ, maybe Kat wasn’t wrong. Maybe it was fate.

  “C-Can I wash up first?” Kat requested timidly, sounding the exact opposite of her usual self. “I don’t want her to see me all messy from the drive.”

  “Why not? That’s how you usually roll, kid,” I teased her.

  She shoved me in the side, making me laugh. “I do not look messy all the time.”

  “No, just most of it.” I stuck my tongue in my cheek when she huffed, and as I cast a glance at Mav, I could see him analyzing us both.

  It pissed me off. Enough that I glared at him, which only had him smirking at me.

  “Sure, but you know she’s going to be so happy to see you whether you’re messy or not, right?”

  Well, that was a good answer, so I didn’t need to stick a whoopee cushion on his wheelchair seat the next time he got out of the damn thing.

  Coyly, Kat smiled at him, so I got us moving. Moving back to the trunk of the SUV, I grabbed our bags—my one, her four, kids and all the shit they carried, man—and dumped one with her for her to pull. The other I tossed at Maverick, which he caught and stacked on his lap. The other two I rolled along as well when he started to wheel over to the bunkhouses.

  This place didn’t get better for keeping, but Christ if I wasn’t glad things had turned out the way they had.

  Everything happens for a reason…or so they said. I just didn’t want to think about what the next step was, because losing Kat?

  Wasn’t just going to suck, it was going to hurt.

  Really fucking badly.

  Seven

  Tiffany

  “Ghost?”

  When I peered over my shoulder at the doorway, spotting Maverick sitting there, I arched a brow at him in surprise.

  For the second day, he’d left us alone to talk things through, and while we hadn’t particularly made massive progress into anything particularly therapeutic, per se, I actually felt like it was more important they just get used to us. My professor called it ‘building a rapport.’ Getting to the hard stuff would take weeks. With their pasts? Maybe months.

  I hadn’t been bullshitting yesterday, I meant it when I’d told Lily that they didn’t have to like us. Active, strong emotions, be they negative or positive, were healthier than apathy.

  But still, in this instance, having properly spoken to them all now, I got the feeling they’d do better with us on a friendlier scale.

  Just looking at how they’d brought Lily into the fray was good for both her soul and mine, I thought.

  She wasn’t on the outside looking in. If anything, I was. She was seated between Amara and Ghost, and Tatána would glower at me if I asked her anything that made her tense, even if it was something as simple as my asking her if she wanted to tell us anything about her abusers.

  I’d tried to help today, just to dip my toes in the water, but had been rebuffed several times. I figured it was a learning curve, one I was happy to take, one I was happy to adjust to suit them and their needs.

  But Mav’s face?

  I got the feeling he was about to fuck with my best laid plans.

  He looked nervous.

  Kind of…anxious actually. More than nerves were at play. Which from a man like him? Put me on edge.

  Ghost, who apparently had extrasensory hearing to go with her name, had already turned to look at the door before Mav had even gotten a word out, and was frowning at her husband.

 
“What is it?”

  He gnawed on the inside of his cheek a second, then muttered, “It’s good news.”

  “What is?” She half stood up. “News about Donavan Lancaster?”

  He raised a hand. “No. About your sister.”

  She gaped at him. “Katina? What about her?”

  “It’s a fucking coincidence is what it is,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “but she’s here.”

  “Here?” Ghost reared back in surprise. Couldn’t really blame her. Since yesterday, I hadn’t picked up on that much from her, but she’d told us her reason for trying to come to the States. “In West Orange?”

  “No. Here as in here at the compound.”

  She raised a shaky hand to her mouth. “No. Don’t tease me.”

  “Since when do I tease you?” he rumbled, his eyes darkening. “She wants to see you, Ghost, but she’s nervous.”

  Ghost gnawed on her bottom lip. “She won’t want to see me looking like this.” Her hands settled under her so she was sitting on them, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that she was gripping onto the chair like that would glue her to it.

  Maverick’s face softened. “Oh, sweetheart, she said the exact same thing. She’d just been on this long ass drive, and she looked a little ragged around the edges. She wanted to look her best for you.”

  Ghost gulped, and her eyes started to water. That was all I saw before she ducked her chin and hid her face behind her hair. “I-I don’t want her to see me like this.”

  “Like what?” I asked softly. “Looking beautiful?”

  Because she was. Even if she had a few scars on her face, on her wrists, and even more hidden beneath her baggy clothes, she was gorgeous.

  With bone structure that any model would be jealous of, and the biggest eyes that made her look like some kind of pixie, especially with her short hair.

  All the women had that, and I knew it was because they’d had to have their hair shorn.

  I mean, I didn’t know all the details of their situation, but it figured they’d had lice or something living in their hair.

  But still, she was beautiful.

  And I needed to make sure she knew that.