Keys To My Cuffs (The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC Book 4)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I felt the telltale sign of my impending release, and I growled. “Touch your clit. Get there quick, honey.”

  She complied, dropping her hand until it met the small bundle of nerves.

  With each rough thrust, she called out until they finally reached a crescendo, pushing her over the edge into oblivion.

  “Yes!” She shouted.

  My eyes squeezed tight as I jerked out of her slick heat at the last possible second and spurted hot come all over the crack of her ass.

  It ran down the valley, disappearing between her thighs, and then running further down her leg before the water washed it away.

  “Jesus,” I panted, leaning my head forward until it rested on the top of one of her shoulders.

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  “I think I need a pain pill,” I observed.

  My arm was absolutely throbbing. With nothing else to take my mind off of the pain, it started to consume my arm once again.

  She rinsed off quickly before exiting the shower, coming back moments later with my bottle of pills I’d had filled before coming here.

  Twisting off the bottle, she handed the pill to me.

  I popped it into my mouth and rinsed it down with a swallow of water from the showerhead before rinsing the remaining soap from my body.

  Once I exited the shower, I wrapped the only remaining towel around my hips and walked into the bedroom where I found her sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Her head was hung in defeat, and she looked so very lost that I felt something shift inside of me.

  Was it something I’d done?

  “What’s. Wrong,” I pleaded.

  She broke.

  All that emotion that she’d been holding back for the past three hours escaped her in a rush of tears.

  She buried her face further into her hands and cried.

  Sighing, I gathered her into my arms very awkwardly.

  She cried so long; so much so that there was a pool of tears not only on my chest, but running down my side and soaking the sheet underneath me.

  “I think you’ve just lost half your weight in tears,” I said to cheer her up.

  A watery laugh escaped her, stemming the flow of tears.

  “I got you a little wet,” she said as she wiped away the tears on my chest.

  “It’s okay, I don’t mind your brand of wetness,” I teased.

  She smiled sadly. “Loki...I have something to tell you when we get back from Florida. I’m not ready to tell you yet, but when we get back, promise me you’ll make me tell you.”

  My curiosity was peaked, but I allowed her to have her secrets.

  “For now,” I confirmed. “But now that I know you have a secret, don’t think I won’t try to figure it out.”

  “You can’t turn off the cop in you...can you?” She teased.

  I rolled my eyes. “No honey. I’ll forever be a cop, whether I’m wearing the badge or not.”

  She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. “Okay.”

  The pain in my arm slowly lessened to just under ‘oh-my-god-i-got-shot-in-the-arm’ levels and I was finally able to take a deep breath.

  Channing’s breathing pattern changed until her breaths became slow and steady.

  She drifted off to sleep like that, snuggled deep in my arms. Her head pillowed on my chest. My wounded hand resting on the mattress on the opposite side of me.

  ***

  Channing

  “Loki?” I asked into the darkness.

  I gave it three seconds before I called him again.

  “Loki?” I called again.

  Rolling over cautiously so I didn’t barrel into his wounded arm, I found him lying on his side.

  He was facing away from me, the broad expanse of his back the only thing I could make out in the darkness.

  The only light there was, was from the full moon peeking between a gap between the blinds.

  It hit the bed in lines, and cast shadows around the room.

  I’d woken in a panic, the dream that had been in my subconscious slowly drifting away into nothing. In the dream, Loki had left once he’d learned my secret. However, the longer I stared at his form and heard the soft sounds of his breathing surround me, the calmer I began to feel.

  The erratic staccato of my heart slowed, and the bile rising in my stomach began to decrease.

  My hand went down, unwillingly, to the slight curve of my belly, and I felt the flutters again, finally realizing what, exactly, had woken me.

  Movement.

  Movement from inside of me.

  Again.

  Toto, I thought. We’re not in Kansas anymore.

  “Please don’t hate me,” I whispered to his back.

  Chapter 16

  Pogonophile- (noun) one who loves beards.

  -T-shirt

  Channing

  I walked up behind Loki and listened unrepentantly to his conversation.

  “What did he say to that? Uh-huh.” Pause. “Yep. Sure.” Pause. “Seriously? And Varian?” Pause. “Nothing? You’re sure?” Pause. “Goddammit. There’s no way he was acting independently from him. I don’t have that many enemies.”

  I snorted, drawing Loki’s attention from the contemplation of the two raccoons currently chattering back and forth animatedly to me.

  He smiled when he saw me, allowing his eyes to travel from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

  I’d taken another shower, and then slipped into the only warm thing I’d had on hand, a pair of sweat pants that had been in Loki’s bag, socks that were about five sizes too big, and the long sleeved Henley he’d been wearing when he’d been shot last night.

  It’d been a good thing that he had the sleeves rolled up at the time, or it’d been stained with his blood, and subsequently thrown in the trash.

  It gave me comfort, though, because it smelled like him.

  “Yeah,” he said into his phone, but kept his eyes on me. “I’ll be ready to head out as soon as the boy wonder twins and Cleo get here.”

  He paused, listening to what whoever was on the phone had to say, and then said, “10-4. I’ll check in once I get there, mom... I mean Trance.”

  He smiled at whatever scathing retort Trance had replied with, and hung up the phone.

  Pushing the thin phone into his pocket, he walked towards me. “Nice clothes.”

  I smiled slightly. “I don’t have anything else.”

  At least nothing else I was willing to wear. My clothes from last night were stained with motor oil and dirt from the parking lot of Halligans and Handcuffs. I wasn’t willing to wear them, which meant it was the sweats or nothing.

  Wearing nothing wasn’t really a possibility, either, since it was around forty degrees out.

  “I have Cleo bringing you some clothes,” he said just as he reached me.

  His fingers ran through my tangled hair, trying to separate the tangles. “I have a brush in my go bag. Do you want it?”

  “What’s a go bag?” I asked with a raised brow.

  “It’s a bag that’s ready in case of an emergency. It has some protein bars, a spare gun and a couple boxes of ammo. A comb. Some hygiene products and clothes,” he said as he worked his fingers through a particularly tangled spot.

  “Sure,” I agreed. “How’s your arm?”

  The small hole that went through his arm, now covered by eight tiny stitches, looked red and angry. The blue stitches stood out, making the wound look even worse.

  His grimace said it all.

  “Did you take any pain meds?” I asked. “How about your antibiotics?”

  “I have to drive,” he replied.

  I gave him a droll look. “That doesn’t mean you can’t drive if you’ve taken those. It means to use common sense.”

  The sound of pipes started to vibrate through the forest, and the furry woodland creatures scurried away just in time for four bikes to pull into the driveway.r />
  They parked beside Loki’s truck, and got off.

  Silas’ beard looked even more badass today, than it had at the bar. Today, it was braided and fell to just about chest level.

  And his shirt. Oh, God, his shirt was awesome. Although it was partially covered up by his leather vest, I could still make out the words.

  It said, ‘With great beard, comes great responsibility.’

  “I love your shirt!” I blurted.

  His cool demeanor cracked, and the man gave me a devastating smile.

  This man was sexy for his age. You could tell he could easily hold his own with any of the men that surrounded him in a fight. He was broad, tall, and devastatingly handsome.

  “Thanks, honey. How’re you doing this morning?” He asked politely with his deep baritone voice.

  I blinked.

  I wasn’t really sure what I’d expected, but a cultured voice wasn’t one of them.

  “I’m doing okay. I was about to make breakfast and force-feed Loki his antibiotics and pain pills,” I answered quickly.

  He smiled, showing off straight white teeth. “Excellent. Are we allowed to put in orders?”

  I blinked stupidly for a few seconds before nodding. “Sure.”

  “Four eggs. Bacon. Toast,” he said simply.

  “And, now that the king has put in his order, I’d like the same. Double bacon.” Cleo said sagely.

  I giggled. “10-4.”

  Loki’s answering smile was sweet. “10-9.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “What’s that mean?”

  He chuckled. “Repeat. I want the same as them,” he said, as he gestured towards the men.

  After getting the orders from the other two, I left the men on the porch, since it was obvious they were wanting to talk without the virginal ears of a woman around, and started in on breakfast.

  I was doing damn well, too, until the smell of the eggs started to make me nauseous.

  Dropping the eggs on the counter, I dashed to the bathroom and puked up the cup of coffee I’d consumed, and then my dinner from the night before.

  Brushing my teeth quickly, I ran back to the kitchen in time to flip the eggs.

  “You almost burnt them,” Silas said from the kitchen table, scaring the absolute shit out of me.

  I whirled with the spatula in my hand, making bacon grease splatter the table where he was sitting. “W-what?” I stammered.

  “You almost let them burn,” he repeated.

  “Oh, well yeah, I didn’t mean to,” I said with wide eyes.

  He turned his head, surveying me from head to toes, lingering on my belly that he couldn’t possibly see. Somehow, though, I knew he knew. He’d spent less than two minutes in my presence, and he knew.

  “You tell him yet?” He asked softly.

  My eyes went to the door in a panic. “No.” I shook my head frantically.

  He nodded once, but his serious eyes never left me. “Don’t fuck him over.”

  It wasn’t a statement, either. I knew that if I ever did Loki wrong, Silas wouldn’t let me forget what I’d done.

  “I won’t. I never will. I love him,” I said simply.

  His serious eyes held mine, pale blue on pale blue, and he nodded, “He won’t be mad.”

  I smiled slightly. “I know. I just...he has a lot on his plate right now, and I don’t want to add to that. I want him to know, don’t get me wrong, but I want him to focus on fixing this problem, not freaking out about me. I’d planned on telling him as soon as I saw him again, but then he told me about the multiple attempts on his life and, well, I just couldn’t add to his burden right now.”

  He nodded. “He’s going to figure it out sooner rather than later. Don’t wait too long, darlin’.”

  My shoulders slumped. “I don’t know how to tell him, to be honest.”

  He leaned forward, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “How far along are you?”

  I blinked. “Uh, twenty three weeks.”

  He blinked.

  Then blinked again.

  “How the fuck are you hiding that from him?” He asked, flabbergasted.

  I giggled. “I’ve always had a pouch. It’s just...harder now. Not quite so flabby. Then I wear loose shirts. My jeans don’t snap anymore.”

  “Uh, oh. I looked at your pants to see what size you were. I didn’t realize they didn’t fit.” Loki smiled at me as he came inside with a bag.

  He offered it to me, and I took it worriedly.

  Did he hear what I’d said?

  My worried eyes found Silas’, who shook his head, indicating that no, he didn’t hear us. Which allowed me to relax.

  I’d tell him the minute we got back.

  ***

  “Are you hot?” I asked Loki as we started our seventh hour of driving.

  He looked at me oddly. “No. I can officially say you’re the first girl to tell me that she’s hot, and have the air conditioner on.”

  I snorted. “I have to pee. Can we stop at the next exit?”

  His head fell back onto the headrest. “We just stopped less than an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, well tell that to my bladder,” I snapped.

  “Maybe your pants are too tight,” he tried.

  I giggled and then pulled my shirt up to show him my unbuttoned pants. “No chance of that.”

  His eyes went to my unbuttoned pants.

  He gave me a bemused look. “I’m sorry. I thought that they were universal sizes. I wasn’t aware skinny meant anything other than the style.”

  “It’s okay. Just remember, for future reference, that I don’t shop in the teen section,” I said dryly.

  “Well,” he said as his eyes followed the movement of a semi-truck in front of us. “That was all Cleo’s fault. I just told him what size to get.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll get a pair when we get to...wherever we’re going. I really do need to pee, though. We’ve passed like, eight exits, and all of them have had gas stations. What’s the deal?”

  “This guy in front of us...oh, fuck,” he said as he slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road.

  My head whipped around and I watched in horror as the semi-truck that had been weaving in the lane suddenly whipped across all three lanes of traffic, through the light pole, across the center median, and into oncoming traffic.

  The scene played out as if in slow motion.

  I watched in a daze as the truck tore through the concrete median as it was tissue paper.

  Then he hit a caravan and two trucks, before continuing off the shoulder and disappearing down the hill.

  Then the chaos started.

  Debris started flying like confetti paper, cars hit wrecked cars. Some went off the road. Some hit the concrete barrier. All the while I sat on my seat in a panic.

  Loki had no such problem, though.

  He, and the four motorcycles with us, all pulled off the road in a matter of seconds.

  Loki wasted no time in ripping his center console open, withdrawing a box of purple gloves, and donning them.

  He followed that up by reaching into the backseat and grabbing what looked to be a large duffel bag and bailing out of his truck.

  He sprinted across the interstate, dodging cars going seventy miles an hour and over, and sidestepped through the ruined barrier.

  My phone was in my hand, and 911 was on the line before I was even aware that I’d called.

  “911, what’s your emergency?” The calm voice said.

  “There’s like a 90 car pile-up on I-10. Uhh, I can’t tell you a mile marker though. Oh, my God. It’s bad,” I chattered frantically into the phone.

  “That’s okay, dear. We know where you are. We’ve already had five other calls. We have units in-route,” she said calmly.

  I was anything but calm, though. In fact, I was on the opposite end of the spectrum.

  “Oh, my God,” I whispered.

&
nbsp; The phone slipped from my hand, and I laid it down on the seat of the truck before shouldering open my door and hopping out.

  I got the pants zipped, but not buttoned and started walking towards the chaos.

  Somehow, I’d managed to grab a pair of gloves, and I slipped them over my hands.

  There were hundreds of people, just like me, staring at the chaos.

  I walked across the debris laden interstate, and into a nightmare.

  I found Silas first, and went straight to him.

  “What do you need me to do?” I asked quietly.

  He looked up from the passenger van’s side window and shook his head. “I don’t know, Channing. Just do what you can. Talk to them. Find a car and talk to them.”

  Which is what I did.

  I went to the first car I found that didn’t already have a person at it, and walked slowly up to the window.

  The car was in shreds. It was what I guessed to be a black mid-size SUV, but resembled something smaller, and much more deadly with the sharp, jagged pieces of metal and the gas leaking out on the asphalt.

  The woman in the front seat was young, possibly sixteen or seventeen. She was staring around her with a dazed expression.

  “Honey?” I called. “Do you know what happened to you?”

  I didn’t know what to say, so that seemed like the logical starting point.

  “N-no. Where’s my mom?” She asked softly.

  The girl had a cut above her right eye, and her face was covered in a white film most likely from the air bag being deployed.

  “Your mom’s not here, honey. Can you look at me?” I asked.

  She turned her head, and I saw more blood curling around her ear and running down her neck.

  Shrugging out of my sweatshirt, I moved through the broken driver’s side window and placed the sleeve of the sweatshirt on the girl’s wounded head.

  I took stock of the girl’s body, and was happy to see that the only thing wrong with her seemed to be the wound at the back of her head.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  “Judith,” she answered a little more coherently.

  “Hi, Judith. I’m Channing. Do you go to school?” I asked her, trying to keep her talking.