Sinner's Revenge

by Kim Jones

The room returns to talk of production and distribution. I stand tall and proud beside Diem, who handles the meeting with the knowledge and sense of someone far beyond her years. She’s skilled in this department. Every argument that approaches the table is won in her favor. For every possible problem, she has a solution. By the time the meeting is adjourned, there is no question that she is in charge. And there isn’t one man in this room who doesn’t have her respect.

  * * *

  Every day this week is the same thing. Meetings last all day and sometimes into the night. The fall of Death Mob was inevitable, but with it came a stall in distribution. Sinner’s Creed chapters were sent from all over to occupy the East Coast, leaving our territory vulnerable to outsiders. Diem assured Nationals that we would not be compromised, and I knew she would stand firm on her word.

  At the end of every day, Diem and I drive back to the cabin, which serves as our escape from reality. After an entire day of talking, we enjoy the silence in each other’s company. Mostly, we sleep, but sometimes I just hold her in my recliner. Or we sit out on the porch and get lost in the peacefulness. But tonight, Diem feels like talking.

  We’re in bed, me sitting against the headboard with her head in my lap while I rub her hair. She hadn’t even bothered getting undressed, so I didn’t either. “My whole life I thought I wanted to be like him.” She doesn’t have to say Dorian’s name for me to know who she’s referring to. “But since you came into my life, I’m not so sure anymore.”

  She flips to her stomach, turning her head to face me. My hand moves from her hair to slide up and down her back. “So what do you want?” I ask, brushing my thumb across her lip.

  “I want this.” She looks down at my cut—her eyebrows narrowing slightly in confusion. “Tell me what they mean.” My eyes fall to the thick, dirty threads she’s touching.

  “This one.” My finger follows hers as it moves over the stitches of the SFFS patch. “Sinners forever forever sinners. It means I’m in this for life.”

  “And SCMC?”

  “Sinner’s Creed Motorcycle Club.” She traces the Pas 2 Las patch and she shoots me a questioning look. I smirk. “It means ‘can’t get right.’”

  “Ain’t that the damn truth,” she mumbles, before glancing over the other patches. Without her having to ask, I find myself telling her the meaning of every patch on my cut. And what’s more surprising is I want to.

  “Night Crew is the name of my Houston chapter. The number thirteen inside the diamond is a reminder to never lie to my brothers. One-percenter defines my commitment to my club. FTW—”

  “Fuck the world.” Diem cuts me off, and my lip turns up at the confidence in her words. I shake my head. Frowning, she looks back at the patch, then up at me.

  “Common misconception. It means forever together wherever. There’s no amount of miles that can keep me from my brothers if they ever need me.” I point to the I am my brother’s keeper patch. “That’s how I earned this.” She studies my cut a moment, letting my words and the true meaning of my brotherhood sink in. Her eyes land on the one I’ve yet to explain and she quirks an eyebrow.

  “Nasty bastard?”

  “You don’t want to know.” She looks like she wants to argue. But really, she doesn’t. “That’s an earned patch, babe. Trust me. You don’t want to know.” Either she’s smart enough to heed my warning, or she’s too tired to press further, but her head lays back in my lap and that lost look crosses her face again.

  “You know.” She lets out a breath. “I used to wake up every morning, ready to conquer the day and earn my stripes. Now I can’t wait for the sun to set so I can come here with you. And when I get here, I never want to leave.”

  “Then don’t,” I offer. Dropping my voice, I add, “Walk away.”

  She rolls her eyes as she stands. “You know it’s not that easy.” I watch her undress, wishing I could do something to ease her mind. Visions of her naked give me an idea, but I’m sure her mind is too preoccupied to be in the mood.

  “This is your life, Diem. You only get one,” I say, preaching as much to myself as I am to her.

  “It’s not the meetings,” she starts in frustration. Ripping her bra over her head, her pretty, olive-toned tits come into view and I bite back a groan. “I feel like I’m accomplishing something when I’m there.”

  “You do,” I tell her as she slips one of my T-shirts over her head. For some reason, that’s sexier than her being naked.

  “But it’s everything else that I hate.” I know she’s talking about the killing. How can any man subject their daughter to such a life of darkness?

  “I promise that as long as I’m around, you won’t have to do it anymore.”

  She smiles the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. It’s worse than seeing her cry. “You’re too good to me. I don’t deserve you.” The words only hurt because she believes them.

  “Come here,” I order, pulling her down so that she’s straddling my lap. Taking her face in my hands, I kiss her head. “You deserve to have everything your heart desires.” She looks like she’s fixing to break, so I kiss her. Soon, her hands are fisting in my hair and her body is asking for everything I want to give her.

  Wrapping my arm around her waist, I move her beneath me, trying my best to kiss away any doubt that she has about herself. I push my cut off my shoulders, then break the kiss long enough to pull my shirt over my head. Finding her mouth again, I devour her. Kissing her until she’s breathless and panting. My lips trail down her neck as my hands move slowly up her sides, pushing her shirt up her body, and then ridding her of it completely.

  “You’re beautiful,” I whisper, running my hands up her arms and holding them above her head. My tongue traces a pattern down her neck and across her chest. Her breasts are just the right size for me to wrap my hand around, and I massage one while my mouth massages the other.

  Her body contracts with every breath, and I move my tongue down to her navel, my hands all over her. The lower I dip my head, the more breathless she becomes in anticipation. Finally, I make it to my happiest place on earth.

  I drag my nose up the length of her pussy, inhaling the scent of her that has my dick hardening to its fullest. With the tiniest touch of my tongue, her body jerks. Figuring she’s been deprived long enough, my mouth covers her, my tongue not leaving one spot untouched.

  Pushing my finger inside her, I curl the tip, feeling that small area of velvety flesh that craves to be touched. Then, adding another, I finger fuck her while my mouth sucks at her clit, my tongue swirling around it as she comes on my fingers.

  She smells like fucking sunshine. She tastes like heaven. And where she wants to spend every moment with me, I want to spend every moment right here—my face buried in her pussy while she screams my name. A place where there is no Mafia. No rules. No pressure. Just me and her and the beauty of coming.

  Pulling my fingers from inside her, I drag them back up her body and into her mouth. She greedily sucks my fingers, proving to me what she can do with her mouth. I’d love to let her test it on my cock, but I’d rather be inside her pussy.

  Leaning over her, I kiss her as I kick my boots off. Her feet push at my jeans, sliding them down my legs. I keep my hands in her hair, lifting my hips and positioning my cock at the entrance of her pussy. Slowly, I push into her. Letting her feel the full effect of me as I stretch her walls until I’m completely buried inside.

  I fuck her slow, keeping my mouth on her mouth. My hands on her hands. My fingers threaded through hers as I make love to her in a way that makes her feel special. Because she is. She doesn’t rush me. She doesn’t talk. She just lets me give her exactly what I know she wants. Her trust in me is overwhelming. It goes far beyond the bed. She trusts me with her entire life. She is my queen, and I will always be the one she can count on.

  “I love you, Diem,” I whisper to her as she comes. “I love you so fucking mu
ch.”

  She moans at the feel of me bursting inside her. The rock of my hips slows as I drag out our orgasm as long as I can. “I love you, Shady,” she whispers back to me. My heart swells at her words. She loved Zeke. He was her man. But the sound of my name, my real fucking name on her lips as she tells me she loves me, makes me feel like more than her man. It makes me feel like a king.

  Her fucking king.

  * * *

  The next night, Dorian calls Diem for a meet. I know she’s nervous, but on the outside, she’s the woman he trained her to be. The killer he wants her to be. And the person she is not.

  We ride to an abandoned building just south of Hillsborough, in the small town of Deering. Bikes are lined up and down the dirt driveway, and I don’t recognize any of them as Sinner’s Creed. I keep my face impassive, but my eyes move to Clark’s in the rearview. After a moment, he senses my glare and meets my gaze. Frowning, he gives me a small shake of his head, and I know I’m not going to like what is fixing to go down.

  Inside, there are over fifty members of Death Mob standing in a huddle in the center of the room. The building is concrete with all the windows missing and nothing but concrete pillars scattered across the bottom level. Dorian is here, surrounded by men who have their guns trained on Death Mob.

  “She’s here,” I hear one of the men say to Dorian, and his eyes move to focus on Diem and then me, who stays right by her side. He offers her a smile that holds no warmth. She gives him a nod as we close the distance.

  “I figured since you were the one who put in all the effort, that you should be here for this,” Dorian says, a cold look in his dark eyes.

  “Be here for what?” Diem asks, her voice strong.

  Dorian leans in, keeping his voice low enough for only us to hear. “The slaughter.” Turning away, he walks toward the group of bikers, addressing them as if they were his friends.

  Diem’s breathing is coming in short, fast pants, and I see horror in her eyes even though she’s fighting like hell to conceal it. Reaching out, I squeeze her hand. “Calm down, pretty girl. I got you,” I say when she turns those big frightened eyes on me. I offer her a wink and an encouraging smile. She focuses on my face a minute while she controls her breathing. Then nods.

  I let go of her hand, and place mine on the small of her back, guiding her forward. Straightening her spine with her chin held high, she joins the crowd of her father’s men.

  “I don’t like rebels,” he’s saying, speaking to the members of Death Mob who were under the impression they were joining an army that he wasn’t leading. I see the hate forming in their eyes when they notice Diem. Soon, they’re all looking at her with betrayal.

  I want to protect her, but this is something that Dorian will insist she face. So all I can do is stand next to her and glare back, promising them a slow death if they so much as take one step in her direction. The leader of the group is champing at the bit to say something. He just better hope like hell it doesn’t involve Diem.

  “That bitch betrayed us, and she’ll probably betray you too,” he says to Dorian. And I’m already on my way over.

  Dorian catches movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to me. His gaze follows me the thirty steps it takes to be nose to nose with the motherfucker who’d just called my woman a bitch. Pulling my gun from my back, I use the butt to break his nose, then shoot both of his kneecaps. His brothers, like the cowards they are, stand back in horror as their brother screams in pain. They don’t even attempt to rush me.

  “Shut up,” I growl, pointing my gun down at his head as he lays on the floor. Since he can’t control his screams, I put a bullet in the man next to him. “Shut up or I’ll smother your screams with the bodies of your brothers.” He puts his fist in his mouth, biting hard to keep from crying out.

  “Does anyone else have something to say about her?” I ask to the entire room, spinning around so that I address not only Death Mob, but the Underground too. “I have plenty of bullets for everybody.” The only sound is the rush of adrenaline I hear in my veins and the heavy beat of my heart.

  My eyes move to Dorian, who gives nothing away. I don’t need his approval or respect. My offer of bullets was extended to his ass too. Placing my gun in the back of my jeans, I give Death Mob one last look of warning before reclaiming my spot next to Diem. Her hands are clasped so tightly in front of her that her knuckles are white. Her arms tremble slightly and I hope like hell it’s not from fear of me. When she looks up, a hint of a smile crosses her lips as her big brown eyes thank me. Shooting her a wink, I let her know it’s all good.

  Dorian goes on about respect and knowing your place. About how each of them could have been saved if they would have just disappeared. How their greed had finally caught up to them and their desire for power had sealed their fate. What was it with him and this power trip? He was the most powerful man in these parts. Was that not enough? Did he really have to make this big speech?

  When his men move to form a line in front of Death Mob, I know he’s wrapping it up. I look down at Diem, who is white with fear at what her eyes are fixing to witness. Taking a gun from his back, Dorian stands in the center of the men. When he says the words, “This is for Dirk,” I move my body in front of Diem, blocking her view.

  The sounds of gunshots surround us, as the men fire round after round into the bodies that continue to fall. I keep my eyes on Dorian, watching his every move. When the last body falls, I move back beside Diem. A tear runs down her cheek as she squeezes her eyes shut. With my thumb, I reach out and wipe it, and she jumps at my touch.

  “It’s me, baby,” I whisper. “You’re okay, but I need you to hold it together until we get out of here.” Her eyes dance in her head, trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the pile of dead bodies. “Look at me, Diem,” I command, a little sterner. She does, and I know she’s fixing to break. “Keep it together. Don’t let him see you weak.”

  Slowly, she comes back to reality. I can almost see the shield as it creeps down her face, concealing her feelings. Brushing the backs of her hands across her face, she stands a little taller and nods. “I’m okay.”

  I turn just as Dorian approaches, giving her another couple of seconds to get her shit together. By the time he has her in his sights, she’s back to the trained killer he raised her to be. “This is your glory to have, Diem. Your hard work paid off and I won’t forget it.”

  I clench my jaw, wanting nothing more than to slap him like the bitch he is and tell him to eat shit. But when he looks at me, I just look right through him. “Shady,” he says, nodding his good-bye.

  Two men leave with him as the others stay to clean up the bloodbath. Clark comes over and instructs me to get Diem out of here, and I waste no time leading her to the car with my hand on her back once again. I call Rookie on the way, telling him we’re leaving. I’d let him know where we’d be as soon as I found out, and he was waiting only a few minutes away.

  I usher Diem into the backseat. Like a puppet, she follows my every command. I’m not even sure she hears me. I’m anxious to get to Rookie so I can be with her. The closer I get to him, the harder she breathes. Then her eyes start to blink rapidly, trying to control the floodgates I know are coming.

  Finally, I spot Rookie’s bike on the side of the road. I pull over, and get out to see Diem getting out too. “I need some air,” she says to no one in particular. Crossing her arms over her chest, she starts walking down the narrow road toward nowhere.

  “What happened?” Rookie asks, keeping his eyes on Diem.

  Unable to peel my eyes away from her either, I answer. “A fucking slaughter.”

  “Damn,” he breathes, shaking his head. He knew Diem was on the verge of breaking just like I did. “She have to do it?”

  “No. I didn’t let her watch either.”

  Diem finally stops walking about twenty yards out. Even from a distance, I c
an see that what we all knew was coming, was finally here. “I need you to drive us,” I tell Rookie as I jog toward her. I slow down a few yards away, not wanting to startle her. “Diem,” I say cautiously.

  Turning to face me, she shakes her head. Tears rain from her eyes as her body jerks with sobs. “I don’t want to be a monster anymore,” she cries, and my heart breaks. She walks into my arms, her weight crashing against me.

  “Shh,” I soothe, placing my lips on top of her head. My hands rub her hair, her back, up her sides, and back down, trying to let her know that I’m here.

  “I don’t want this, Shady. Please don’t make me do this anymore,” she cries harder, the sound of her broken voice echoing around me.

  “Shh. Okay, baby. No more.” I lift her up, wrapping one arm around her legs while the other holds her to my chest. In my arms, I carry her back to the car. “I got you. I promise. I got you.” Seeing her this hurt devastates me. It’s a feeling of heartache I’ve never endured until now. Even losing Dirk wasn’t as painful as watching the woman I love beg me for a better life.

  In the car, I hold her in my lap. Letting her cry out everything she’s been feeling her whole life. I absorb her small body, her tears, and all of her problems. I’m her man and it is my duty to be the one to carry the weight. I want her burdens, her fears, her heartache, and her doubt. It belongs on my shoulders. Not hers.

  Several days ago, I feared that my love for Sinner’s Creed was fading—being replaced with something else. Someone else. In this moment, I realize it’s no longer a fear—it’s a fact.

  I’m ready to live for her.

  I’m ready to give it all up.

  I’m going to get her out of this life and away from this pain.

  Like many of my brothers, the club has always been the sole purpose of my existence. But now she’s my purpose. I can’t live in a world where both her and Sinner’s Creed exists. And for the first time in my life, I’m okay with that. Because now, I only want to live in a world with her.