by Snow, Nicole
The Veep's place at the table had about a thousand little cuts from all the years where he'd put his hand down flat on the old wood, stabbing his switchblade between his fingers. For some reason, it seemed weirder than ever today, watching him lost in his own tortured world 'til the Prez put a hand to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle.
“Fuck!” Sixty snarled next to me, covering his ear. Loud noises got his fucked up ear, ever since he'd been too close to a grenade going off a couple years back.
Joker stopped trying to take his fingers off and looked up at the Prez. Dust gave him the same dirty look I'd seen a thousand times before.
Same old club. Same old shit.
What wasn't the same was the way I'd fucked that sweet, wounded woman sleeping off the sex in my bedroom right now. It was twisted, it was playing with the last fire on earth I should, but damn if I regretted a thing.
No. No way. Fuck no.
My cock throbbed, wishing I'd kept her up for another hour. But then I wouldn't have gotten a lick of sleep at all.
Shit. What the fuck are you gonna do?
The question kept tossing in my mind. If only the incredible sex was all I could remember. Too bad fucking her brought these other feelings, this need to treat her like more than a piece of meat and a hostage.
“Let's get on with it, shall we, boys?” The Prez said darkly, training his dirty look on me next. “Your turn to brief us first, brother. The whore's your business, like you promised. You've had plenty of time to cook up a plan to get what we're owed. Spill it.”
Fuck. I wracked my brain through last night's haze. It took all I had not to freeze up as all the brothers looked at me, waiting for this grand scheme I was supposed to have hatched by now to get us the quarter million.
“We let her walk.”
Boom. My words wouldn't have been any less surprising than a pipe bomb going off underneath our table.
Several jaws dropped. The Prez cocked his head like he hadn't heard me right.
“Skin...what the fuck? You'd better be kidding me, brother.”
“Don't think he is,” Firefly said, standing up and flexing his fists, his huge jaw twitching. “The girl's got him by the balls. I heard those two yesterday. Up all night, fucking their little hearts out.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. All the sirens blasted in my head, especially when I saw the stocky boy walking around the table toward me, angling to make this shit physical if I didn't think of something, and think fast.
“Come on, guys, it isn't like that.”
“Bullshit!” Firefly spat at the floor, ripping me up by the shoulders.
The bastard had brute strength. I couldn't get a good grip on him to fight back and free myself before he slammed me against the wall, rattling every bone in my body.
“We're disappointed in you, Skin. Your weakness has always been pussy, just like your old man.” He grabbed my throat and tightened his grip before I could say shit. “We've been more than goddamned generous with you. Now, you're the only boy getting pussy in this joint, and you wanna let this bird fly and leave the club empty-fucking-handed – after all we've been through!”
I saw his other fist coming up, ready to break my nose. Shit.
My knee came up and slammed into his gut. I knew the big Enforcer's weak point. It didn't fail me here, he stumbled back against the table and doubled over, struggling for air.
Everybody else was already up on their feet.
I tried to make a break, and ran right into Joker. I got in the first blow, but he had the edge, pulling at my cut and holding his cold blade against my throat.
“Try to run, brother, and I'll skin every fucking symbol of this club right off you.”
I held my breath, knowing he meant business. Hell, I'd watched him do it a few times to assholes who deserved it. The Veep was crazy enough to do it to one of our own too, as soon as the Prez said jump.
Speaking of the Prez, he was heading toward me. Angry, sharp determination flickered in his pale blue eyes. His lips peeled back, and I saw the gold tooth set in his mouth shining like a beacon, illuminating the only words that could bring me mercy or pure hell.
“Prez, go easy, aren't we jumping the damned gun?” Sixty pipped up. “He's gotta have something for us. Skin's all brains. He's never let us down. Cut the man some fucking slack.”
Crawl nodded at his side, sweeping his dark hair over his face, unable to hide his worried expression. Both my brothers backed me up, and they'd try to save my ass if it came to a vote.
Assuming you're worth saving. The nasty thought ran through my head.
I had to give them something. I had to prove I hadn't lost my mind from getting pussy whipped.
Shit, I had to prove it to myself. I'd just had the best fuck of my life, and I'd promised her the moon, but damn if I'd let her get to me.
I owed this club my life. I looked up as the Prez approached, steadying my gaze, refusing to give a shit when his eyes flashed murder.
“Firefly's right. You've got your head all fucked up by this stray pussy cat we've let you take in. You've got ten seconds to start talking, and tell me why I shouldn't have the club drag her out back and find out the best way to get that money from her rich folks ourselves...”
Shit. She wouldn't survive a club interrogation. The guys wouldn't hurt her – I didn't think – but they'd scare the shit out of her, undo everything I'd tried to give her last night, dig up all the shit the pimp had done to her.
Good thing I came ready. I had an Ace in my hand, a little extra card I'd picked up from the pimp before I shot his shit-for-brains out. It just might stall them from doing something reckless and stupid.
“Send one of the prospects out to the garage right now. There's a black bag out there, next to my bike. I was saving it to bring to your office privately, Prez, but since you want all this shit out in the open...”
Dust's eyes widened with dark amusement. You'd better not be fucking with me, they said.
He looked at Crawl. “Step outside and tell Lion to bring us whatever the fuck he's talking about. Hurry up!”
Everybody waited while our brother opened the door and said a few words to the prospects standing guard. Lion and Tinman both took off, returning a minute later. The Prez saw Lion's scruffy face holding my leather saddlebag, sagging with the shit I'd stuffed in it.
“Come on, up on the table,” Dust ordered, waving him forward. As soon as the prospect dropped the bag, he gave him another wave, and Crawl shut the door behind him, locking them both out 'til they'd earned their bottom rockers.
“Go on. Open it. It's not a full quarter million, but it's a sign of good faith. This club's all I think about, Prez. Here's your proof that's true. I won't let us walk away with our pockets hanging out, and I'm not gonna stand here and listen to the shit that's being talked about me.”
“Firefly.”
Soon as the Prez said his name, the Enforcer moved, ripping open the zipper. His eyes bugged out when he saw the fat stacks of cash spilling out on the table, mostly smaller bills like fifties and twenties, mingled with hundreds.
It was a complete fucking mess. I wasn't sure how the hell the pimp counted it. Hell, maybe he'd been too drugged up when the Deads dropped off his down payment for Meg, or else too busy shitting his pants.
He'd done enough of that before I blew his worthless brains out. I took a quick estimate and pegged it around twenty-five thousand. There'd been twice as much to start, but I'd divided that and given it to the whores when I opened up their rooms to deliver their pink slips.
Sure, they might go out and blow the shit on street smack, but at least it'd get them outta that rat's nest and into the city. The closer I got them to the shelter listed on that paper, the better.
Dust pushed Firefly and the other boys aside, reaching into my bag, pulling out fistfuls of cash and spreading it across our table.
“I'll be fucking hog-tied.” He was still fisting big stacks of bills when he spun around and looked at me. “Where
the hell did you get this?”
“Settling accounts. The pimp had a payday twice as big as the shit we confiscated from him last week. That was his down payment for selling her off, and it's ours now.”
“Aw, shit.” Dust's fists dropped, holding the cash limply at his sides, shaking his head. “Don't tell me...you killed the stupid sonofabitch?”
“Yeah.” No sense in hiding it.
None of the men in this room were stupid, even if they couldn't crunch numbers or cloak our operations from the Feds like I could.
“Fuck me alive.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later. You know it, Prez, and so do I.” I swallowed, preparing for the biggest gamble yet. “The fucker was tight with the Deads. He was a cash cow, besides being a walking sewer. I don't regret a damned thing. I brought the club some red meat and buried his carcass in the usual place, where nobody'll find his bones for a hundred years. Sure, the fucks from Georgia will notice he's missing, but they're coming for us anyway sooner or later, after what happened to their guys...”
Sixty, Crawl, and I shared an uneasy look. I wasn't gonna say anything more about that and blow their cover, even though the Prez had probably figured it out.
“This is going in the club coffers,” Dust said slowly, the anger in his eyes receding. “You've earned yourself another chance – one week. That's all I'm giving you. I swear on my father's patch, Skin, if you fuck us over, and don't get us the rest of what we're owed from this gal, I'll send the guys to pick her up and drag her ass back here, kicking and screaming.”
He stared right through me to the wall, where we had old photos and trophies framed for the club. His old man's cut hung there, patch facing out, one more relic among many in all the glories the Deadly Pistols had lived and lost.
“We've got about enough here to start another girlie bar, this time in Knoxville city limits. I'm going with the business plan I should've let you talk me into the first time. Whatever else happens, we'll do this shit right. This is our second chance. I'm not pissing it away.” The Prez stepped up, looking me dead in the eye. “If you fuck us over, Skin, if your toy fucks us over, I swear to Christ I'll make her work off every single red cent she owes. Don't think I haven't noticed what you're fucking. She's got the tits and ass to be a slut. She'll be the first chick we put to work shaking what she's made of, seven days a week, even if we have to put a kinky mask over her face to keep any nosy assholes from noticing who she is. If she doesn't pay up, mark my words, she's ours. Club property.”
Asshole. I didn't say it to his face, despite the anger howling through me. I was too busy thinking about how bad I wanted to make her my property. Mine, mine, and mine alone.
Joker's knife pulled away from my neck. I instinctively reached up and rubbed the impression he'd left, smearing a tiny blotch of rusty blood between my fingers.
“One week, Skin. That's all you get.” The Veep's dead eyes were more lively than usual. Creepy as a hungry fucking snake. “I'm game for bringing her back here and putting her to work myself. Nobody fucks this club. Not even the men who've given it their blood.”
Firefly still looked like a bull ready to charge, but his rage was deflating too. With a heavy sigh, he turned his back and walked to his spot, ripping his chair out to sit.
“Prez, with your approval, let's sit down and call a vote like gentlemen. I'll let this fucking guy live another week and set his girl free. He's bound by the club rules – they both are. Skin here's done some stupid shit, but he ain't a rat.” He looked over the ranks of brothers, ending with me. “Trust is all we've got when we're outnumbered three to one by the Deads. He's right about one thing – they're coming. And they damned sure will rip our heads off in a heartbeat if we're fighting each other.”
The Prez nodded. Everybody followed his lead as we headed for our seats.
The vote went fast, the yeas rolling in one by one, unanimous.
When it was my turn, I only had Meg on my mind, hoping to high hell I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.
“Start packing,” I growled, kicking the door shut behind me.
Meg flashed me a smile. I'd caught her walking outta the shower, a towel wrapped tight around her, tempting me to tear it off.
She shifted her weight, forcing me to see the contour of her hips. “You mean you're taking me out to dinner tonight? What, are we dating now, or something?”
The girl winked, and my blood turned into fire.
Fuck. My dick remembered everything we'd done last night, everything she had waiting beneath that flimsy little towel. I'd fucked her for hours after I spilled my seed inside her the first time, and it still wasn't enough.
I wanted more. I wanted it so damned bad I had to fight with everything I had to shut down the instinct to march over, strip her bare, and fuck us both seven ways stupid.
But I didn't do goodbye fucks. Especially when I'd finally gotten the clearance to get her home without any huge hangups. I had to do it now, before the Prez changed his mind, or Joker helped him in all his ruthlessness.
“You heard me, woman,” I said, turning away from the beautiful sight in front of me and ripping open the closet. I pulled out all her new clothes and began throwing them on the bed, wondering if she'd want any of this shit once she was with her rich family again.
“Jesus, Skin! Slow down.” Next thing I knew, she stood next to me, tugging on my arm. “Why can't we talk like normal people? Tell me what's going on?”
There wasn't any time for that. As soon as I had her outfits laid out, I grabbed an old bag from cleaning my cut, and started to throw her shit in there, leaving her a pair of jeans and a tank top to change into.
“I said, you heard me. You're going home. Nothing else to say.”
Her jaw dropped. Her big blue eyes became wide moons in front of me, moons I'd stared into last night while we fucked, her chestnut hair tangled between my fingers.
My dick begged me to slow down, and so did her expression. But I wasn't listening to either of them. This mission couldn't wait, dammit, and nothing was getting in my way when I had a chance to get her to total safety.
“I don't understand, Skin. It can't be that easy.”
“Things change, babe.” I shrugged, tying the bag shut, ignoring her. “Quit acting like you're all upset. This is everything we've been waiting for since I dragged you to the clubhouse. I'd be a damned fool to give it up, and so would you.”
“Home...” she repeated the word like she needed to just to grasp the meaning again. “Holy shit. What will I tell my parents? I still haven't figured anything out. I mean, I had some ideas, but I woke up so late after last night, and none of them are very good.”
“You'll have a week tops to sort that shit out in the comfort of your own home,” I said, grabbing her by the wrist. I led her into the bathroom and set her change of clothes on the toilet next to her, stepping outside with my back turned while she changed.
Fuck, my eyes burned knowing she was naked behind me. I heard her clothes rustling slowly, as if it took her massive energy just to move.
I couldn't turn around, no matter how much my body begged me. If I gave in and saw her in the nude again, I'd want to keep her here forever. I sure as shit wouldn't let her leave without one more fuck, one more fiery, passionate fling on the bed next to me, grabbing her sweet ass and shaking her 'til she almost broke while I slammed myself in so deep my balls bruised her.
My fists tensed at my sides. Lucky for her, she didn't have a thing to worry about.
I wasn't gonna fuck her and send her home with an even more screwed up head. Just like I wasn't gonna look her in the eye right now and let her see what she'd done to me, turning me into a lustful, possessive mess.
Me, Skin, the rock hard motherfucker who never got attached to any pussy. I'd always been the man to fuck and forget. Hell, I still was that guy, it was just harder this time, because I'd spent more time having her in my bed than most girls.
“You have to tell me what's c
hanged. What's the catch?” Her voice darkened.
I turned around and faced the only woman I'd slept with as opposed to just fucking. The only woman I'd dreamed about wearing my brand, and maybe the only chick this side of Nashville who never fucking would.
“Prez had a change of heart. I convinced him. It isn't right to hold you here like our personal cash cow. Lord knows you've had enough of that shit.” She folded her arms, shooting me a skeptical look through all her shock.
The girl wasn't stupid. Shit, that made me want to fuck her more, hard enough to rattle the brains in her pretty head.
“You're expected to deliver the money, babe. That shit hasn't changed. Quarter million, solid, straight from your folks.” I gave her my coldest look, trying to make her realize how serious it was without scaring her. “Consider it a finder's fee, the price of rescue, operating costs, whatever the fuck you want. Truth is, everybody knows what's on the line here. The club's interest in the reward money is the same it always was. Big difference is, now you've got a chance to get it over to us while you start to put your life back together. Come on, I know your family's rich. Two hundred and fifty big's a drop in the damned bucket, isn't it?”
She cocked her head. “Okay, fair enough. And what happens if my parents say no, Skin? What if the police ask too many questions? What if I can't convince them?”
I had a crystal clear vision of everything Dust told me. I saw myself being held down by all the brothers and punched in the face, over and over 'til Joker broke my nose, plus a few ribs. They'd have to beat me stupid to make me stand down while they pulled her outta her house and forced her back into slavery, this time shaking that killer ass for grubby motherfuckers in our nudie bar.
No, no, fuck no. I won't let that happen.
“You'll pay your debt one way or another,” I growled, looking around the room for anything else she'd left behind. I saw her mystery magazine and threw it in the bag too, plus a bottle of water for the road.
“What's that supposed to mean? Should I be worried? Looking over my shoulder?” Her questions ended in a hiss of resignation. “Just tell me one thing...are you actually setting me free, or not? I can't tell.”
