My moan is loud, even to my own ears, as he shifts his hips, his piercings hitting a spot inside me that’s a shortcut to a guaranteed mind-blowing orgasm. All I can do is surrender, intensifying my grip and taking Xerox with me. He buries himself deep one more time and seems to stop breathing when the roar he’s voicing has died down.
“We should do this multiple times a day,” I pant. “because it’s over way too fast. We need to build up some serious stamina.”
“Training for a fuck-marathon. Gotcha.” Xerox chuckles.
His tongue travels up my neckline, making me shiver.
“Hmmm,” he hums. “I like seeing my mark on your skin.”
Right when I want to reply with ‘I like you marking me’, pounding starts, along with a loud voice. I groan when I recognize its Mike’s voice that’s barking for Xerox.
Xerox slides me down his body. “Wash up, I’ll go see what that’s all about.”
He steps out and I openly watch how he manages to make wrapping a part of his body up in a white fluffy towel seem sexy as hell.
“I think your cunt is clean now, gorgeous. Go wash your other body parts.” He chuckles and leaves the room.
My fingers leave the place between my legs. Oh, yes…I was washing that part first, giving it special attention while enjoying the view in front of me. His fault, not mine. But I speed things up when I don’t hear anything coming from the room.
No voices at all. And both men, Xerox and my brother Mike, both have the volume I should be hearing in here. I’ve shut down the water and it’s dead silent where I’m standing. The soft click of the door being shut is an indication that my suspicion was right…they were whispering. Why the hell would they be whispering?
Stalking into the bedroom, I see Xerox standing near the door. His index finger is rubbing his lips, his eyebrows are scrunched. He’s clearly the vision of a man who’s deep in his own thoughts.
“What did Mike want?” I ask, and grab a clean pair of underwear.
My voice jerks him into action, dropping the towel around his waist while he snatches up his jeans and pulls them on.
I’ve got my own jeans in one hand and a dark purple shirt in the other. “X, what’s wrong?”
Xerox puts his arm into a black shirt and locks eyes with me. “He can’t reach or find Marcus.”
Shit. “He’s always locked up in his head. Maybe he just went out somewhere to think. Switched his phone off…did he check around?”
“He went to the store where he buys his gummy bears and to his friend’s house near the park. Also checked in and around the park by the way.” Xerox stalks to the nightstand and takes the two guns, putting them into the holsters he’s got underneath his cut.
“You’re not gonna lock me in a room, make me wait here and sit this one out kind of deal, right?” My voice is tainted with a warning.
“As if.” He actually has the nerve to snort. “He’s your brother, so no. Besides, if we take this and look at it from the worst point of view? It’s Enzo who took him. You think I’d leave you here, out of my fucking sight? Fuck no. You’re coming with me, but you’re also gonna carry.”
He jogs into his office and returns with a small handgun and a waistband holster. Taking it from his hands, I make fast work of strapping it to my belt and letting my purple sweater conceal it.
“Did Mike check the marina? He often goes there to think and…” I swallow the rest of my words because I know what he does and it’s not exactly something he shares with everybody else.
“And…” Xerox pins me with a stare.
I release a deep sigh because it’s clear I’m not the one running solo anymore. “Graffiti. It’s his secret addiction. The others don’t know, or never mentioned it. He’s got a backpack hidden in his room with paint cans and such.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “What’s the problem? Why hide it?”
“I don’t know, he just does. Never talks about it, never shows us anything. I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t caught him red-handed once. Seriously. Red handed.” A smile spreads on my face when I remember that exact moment. I tie my sneakers, grab my phone, and head for the door. “Red paint was dripping off his hands. He had spray painted a rooster on a wall underneath a bridge. He makes these geometric animals that take your breath away. I don’t know why he keeps it a secret. The stuff he creates? He’s very talented.”
“I’ll ask him when we find him.” Xerox nods as we walk out.
Worry slams into me. Marcus is the quiet one, stuck in his mind. With everything that happened with our parents…I need to know he’s safe, that he won’t do anything foolish. Or worse, hurt himself. Out of all my brothers, Marcus is the one I worry about most. Where the hell is he?
Chapter Fifteen
***Xerox***
Maci grabs my arm, making me stop in my tracks. “His phone tells me he’s at the marina.”
She holds up her cell. There’s a map pulled up on the screen with a dot and a circle pointing with a head shot of the youngest brother.
“Don’t look at me like that. I keep track of their phones. They could do it with mine,” She gives a tiny shrug, “if I told them about it.” The red flush in her cheeks is fucking cute, yet it’s the worry in her whole demeanor that shoots straight through my chest.
“Did you put my cell in there too, gorgeous? Are you keeping track of me?” Okay, if I thought she was cute a moment ago…she’d be damn adorable now.
Eyes like the moon, hard shake of the head. “They are kids, you’re…”
“Huge?” I glance down at my cock and wink.
This time she smacks my arm. “No, dick. You’re an adult, you thick headed baboon.”
“Thick head, huh?” I hold up my hands in surrender. Although I got what I wanted. My feisty smartass back to herself, she’s pushed the worry into the background.
“Beecher, Quill, Ryland, and Corban are going with us. Mike, too, but we’re leaving the other two here with the prospects and Tyren. We’re taking the truck; the rest will follow us on their bikes. How accurate is that app?” I nod in the direction of her cell.
“Not very. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s way off.” Worry slips back into her words.
I guide her toward my truck. “Let’s go find out.”
It’s a good twenty-minute drive out to the marina. There are three restaurants and a few other facilities located alongside of it. The yachts and small boats that are docked there are mostly non-industrial and meant for personal pleasure. People come and go as they please. I park the truck near one of the restaurants. It’s a seafood place that serves some kick ass lobster.
When Maci joins me on my side of the truck, I lock it and see the other guys park their bikes on my left. When they join us, I start to divide them. “Mike, you’re with us. Corban, you and Beecher team up. Quill, Ryland, same goes for you.”
“No wait…I got his location. It says he’s out there.” She points in the direction of the floating docks.
Not one single boat. What we do see is a beige bundle that resembles a backpack. Fuck.
“Dammit,” Maci mutters.
My head goes into the direction she starts to run in. At the edge of the floating docks is a building that has a blind wall. There’s a figure hunched down. I start to jog after my woman and the closer I get, the more I see what the kid was doing. Fucking spray-paint can in his hand, a wooden crate next to him.
Maci was right. The kid has some major talent. There’s a geometric fox on the wall, only black lines are drawn on the concrete because he’s still working on it. Damn…that’s some fucking impressive work. Marcus spins around. He’s dressed in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his baseball cap. I haven’t seen him dressed in those oversized sweatpants before, or the hoodie for that matter. I bet it’s something he keeps with his paint cans so he can change when he’s creating his art. Probably to keep his normal clothes from getting stained.
I’m still gaping at the art he made, because that’s
what it is. Art. I’m damn excited because this is something we have in common. Maci shared some of her worries in the truck ride over here. Marcus seems to only let himself, and his emotions, go when he’s creating. He doesn’t share this piece of himself, or anything else, with the ones who care about him. It’s only through coincidence that Maci found out about Marcus’ creativity.
I am literally shot out of my thoughts when a bullet whooshes past me.
“Take fuckin’ cover,” Corban barks behind me.
I can’t follow Corban’s advice, because Maci is just out of my reach. She runs toward Marcus but right when I close the distance and wrap my arm around her waist, someone comes up behind Marcus and places a gun to his head. Everyone freezes in place.
Well, except for Maci’s voice that comes blasting out in full force. “Noooo. You fucker, let him go.”
Maci is still seething as I pull her tighter against me. One quick glance around and I see my guys are all gripping their guns. Beecher, Corban, and Ryland are pointing at men standing behind us. Quill, Ryland, and Mike are aiming at the guy who’s holding Marcus.
“Well now, let’s see how we can get this party started.” Enzo walks up like there aren’t six of my guys and four of his pointing guns at each other.
Maci’s voice turns to steel. “I’d rather kill the fucking party before it starts, you fucking asshole.”
“Cool it,” I snap in her ear, before I give the fucker who thinks he’s in charge my attention. “Let go of the kid, he’s got nothing to do with this.”
Marcus tries to get out of the guy’s grip. Dammit, he’s got a gun pressed against his head and yet he still has the nerve to fight. This is one serious fucked up situation. One glance to my left and I see Mike taking a step closer.
Before I can order him to stay, one of my ears pops. The one closest to Maci’s mouth because she releases a high-pitched scream. Swirling my gaze back, I see Marcus hanging limp in the fucker’s arms. My heart freezes in its tracks, one second, two, three…I don’t see any blood coming from him.
“Let’s try this again. And a little reminder, the next one won’t get knocked on the head by the gun, but will get a bullet from it. Clear?” Enzo states.
Thank fuck he ain’t dead. Maci doesn’t struggle at all anymore, but instead seems utterly cool.
Slowly, I release her and pull her behind me. “You’re not getting out of here, Enzo. It’s over. We drove you guys out of our town before. Your gang has been torn up as it is.”
“It was divided when my boneless asshole of a brother took lead. That problem has solved itself, now didn’t it? I saw him go in…didn’t came out, huh? What did come out was a fucking box.” Enzo chuckles. “Like I said…problem solved. I need to send a little thank you gift to the one responsible.”
His attention shifts to Mike. “Ah, Mikey…I’ve missed you. Have they been treating you good?”
I feel Maci’s hand gripping my cut behind me. Probably wrapping her mind around the possibility of the influence Enzo could have on Mike because the very same thing takes root in my brain. Her brothers were with these guys a lot and they’ve been spoiled by this gang. Giving them everything, baiting them, luring them to come work for Eastside Posse.
“What did you say about your…timid little brother? He isn’t the type, not strong enough, always weak and not trust worthy. Those were your words, right, Mikey?” Enzo takes Marcus’ body, who’s still out cold. “We could just dump him in the water, he wouldn’t even feel a thing…just let him drift away. It would do all of us a favor, another problem solved, right?”
“Leave him be, Enzo. We talked about this,” Mike states.
There isn’t a hint of emotion in the kid’s voice.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Maci whispers from behind me. “Please, Mike, what are you doing?”
“Remember who taught you, Mikey…These bikers might have given you the gun you’re holding, but remember who taught you how to shoot.” Enzo licks his bottom lip. “Our vow, remember? You and me at the top. My right hand, second in command. Well, as you know, there’s an opening…I’m the boss now. We’ve reached that point in time we discussed.”
“It’s about goddamned time,” Mike grumbles as he lowers his gun.
What the….
“You fucking rat. You son-of-a-fucking-bitch-scumbag,” Maci seethes.
“Shut it. You ain’t my mother, no one tells me what to do, I run my own life,” Mike barks at his sister, as his gaze shifts toward Enzo. “See this fucking gun they gave me?”
Enzo raises his eyebrow in question as he glances at the gun Mike is pointing right at him.
“Didn’t even give me any damn bullets to go in there, that’s how far the trust goes with these biker assholes.” Mike snorts.
For a split second I doubt myself, before all hell breaks loose.
Mike’s gun goes off, once, twice. Enzo rears back, the guy next to him falls to his knees, a red dot between his eyes. Other bullets start to fly when I see Maci flashing by me, heading for Enzo as she throws the first punch.
I’ve got both of my hands wrapped around cold steel. Except, my fingers let go as they hit the fucking ground. I start to run toward the water the second I see Marcus tumble into it, head first, liquid swallowing him whole.
“All down, we’re clear, anyone hit?” I hear Beecher bellow before I hit the water.
I’m wrapped in a dark freezing depth. Searching. I try to swim deeper. Shit, I can’t find him. My lungs burn and I have no other choice than to swim up to the surface. Gasping, I draw air inside my body. Scanning, I see Maci. She’s straddling Enzo, punching the hell out of the guy.
“Quill,” I bark.
He swirls around.
“Get her the fuck off that guy. I can’t find Marcus, he went in.” I take a deep breath and dive back under.
Swimming down as deep as I can, I turn and try another area. My arm hits something and my heart races when I realize it’s Marcus’ body. Kicking my legs out to get myself closer to him, I grip Marcus and fight like hell to get the both of us to the surface as fast as I can. Hoping, praying it’s not too late.
Quill and Mike are on their knees. I’m gasping for air but still manage to push Marcus in their direction. Together, they drag his lifeless body out of the water. Maci is standing there, her own hands tainted with blood are gripping her neck. I place my hands on the dock and pull myself up.
“He’s not breathing.” Quill.
“Put him on his back.” Corban.
“Starting CPR.” Beecher.
Twelve. Fucking. Years. Old. And without one single fucking heartbeat. I feel like the world is on hold. We’re surrounded by dead bodies. Fuckers who got into this life willingly with eyes wide open and a mind set to hurt others by gaining items for self-benefit. They chose to fuck shit up, deal in drugs, and hunt for the next thing they can obtain more power from, heading for war…this young man, lying here lifeless, was thrown in the fucking mix of this fucked-up shit.
I fall to my knees and roar out my frustrations. Don’t you dare fucking leave this world, son. Don’t you dare let him die, world. Make shit even for the sake of one fucking spark of righteousness in these fucked up times we’re all living in.
Chapter Sixteen
***Maci***
“How is he?” Xerox asks carefully while he takes the bag I just gave him.
How is he? My brother. My baby brother who I didn’t see slip into the water…who I didn’t attempt to save. Who I didn’t even…dammit, all I could think about was revenge. Kill that Enzo fucker. Mike shot him but I saw he was still very much alive, because he only got hit in the shoulder. I had to kill him before he’d snap Marcus’s neck or something. Shit…while in the end… How. Is. He?
I swallow before I can manage words. “There are all kinds of bedside monitors surrounding Marcus. His breathing is supported by a ventilator. He has a catheter, they had some debate about intracranial pressure monitoring, depending if he sustained a brain injury
before he hit the water. How is he? I have no fucking clue.” The last part might be a sob because I can’t even manage to keep myself together at this point.
His naked body surrounds me. “You didn’t see him go under. I did. He’s my family as well as yours. We each played our part, stop beating yourself up. He’s here. In the hospital. Getting the help he needs. There’s nothing more to do than wait, Maci.”
I sag against his cold body. “You need to get dressed.”
His soft chuckle is a soft caress. “I can’t tempt you to share your body warmth with me, huh?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Get dressed, X. The guys are all waiting in the hallway, and are making the nurses really edgy.”
Grabbing a plastic bag, I stuff Xerox’s wet clothes in it before I tuck them in the bag one of the prospects brought over to the hospital. Xerox refused to leave or get treatment. He wanted to know how my brother was. See for himself that Marcus got the help he needed. That’s why he’s now naked, stripped from the wet clothes before changing into a fresh dry set.
EMTs at the scene finally got Marcus’ heart going, but everything after that moment is practically a haze. It’s soul wrenching to see him like this. In the hospital, depending on machines to keep him alive.
“He’s gonna pull through,” Xerox mumbles into my ear as he pulls me close, this time he’s fully dressed.
“I hope so.” Tears fall down my cheeks. “God, I fucking hope so.”
He holds me tighter. “He will, he’s strong, you’ll see.” Xerox gives me a kiss on the top of my head before he bends down and grabs the bag.
Swinging it over his shoulder, he laces his fingers with mine. “Come on, let’s go see him.”
I wasn’t lying when I said the guys were all waiting in the hallway. Every single biker in the MC is here. Even the prospects. Support, family, that’s what it’s all about. No matter how many times they were told it wasn’t allowed for them to be in the hallway, they stayed, making sure they didn’t interfere with any of the medical personnel. It’s exactly what Xerox said to me a moment ago. We will be there for each other when or where we need to be, each of us filling our role.
Xerox Page 11
