by Alyssa Breck
“Hold that thought. I need to run to the little girls’ room.” Brenda jogged down the hallway.
Hem turned to Kol. “What are you doing?” he scolded.
Holly sipped her tequila. “Let him flirt with her. I haven’t seen my mom smile this much in like … forever.”
“I don’t want her to think he’s being disrespectful.”
Holly put her hand on Hem’s chest. “Believe me, she doesn’t think that.” With her back to Kol she mouthed the words thank you.
He nodded. “Okay.” Then he smiled. “We’re going to kick your ass so whatever your mom wagers will be lost.”
“That’s big talk, mister. Let’s see if you can make good on it.”
“Oh, I always make good on it.”
Kol had a pool stick behind his neck with his hands draped over either end of it. It was weird how much he and Hem looked alike, yet they didn’t. It was obvious they were brothers. Their hair was the same, but Hem’s lips were fuller, and Kol’s eyes were darker, his eyebrows a little thinner. Small nuances set them apart.
Her mother came back, rubbing her hands on her jeans. “Okay. Where were we?”
“You were about to set a wager,” Kol said. Hem had braided his brother’s hair into two braids, and one hung over each shoulder.
“Oh, yes.” Brenda smiled. “Hmm. How about a hundred dollars?”
“Deal. You ladies can break.”
Holly leaned against Hem. “I’ve only played pool maybe three times in my life. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Hem laughed. “You just cost your mom a hundred bucks because Kol and I grew up in a pool hall.”
Brenda hit the white ball and broke the triangle. A blue striped ball went into the corner pocket. “Guess we’re stripes, Holly.” She hit the white ball again and spread the other balls out across the green felt.
The game ended up being mostly between Brenda and Kol while Hem and Holly watched. They exchanged a few glances.
Holly wagged her finger at them. “What’s going on there?”
“My brother is a cougar chaser.”
“Come again?”
“He likes experienced women.”
“You mean mature women? My mom is in her fifties.”
“Is she?” Hem looked down at Holly.
“Yeah.”
“She looks good.”
“I think she looks better now.” Holly yawned. “It’s been quite a day.”
“You should get some shut eye.”
“I think I’m going to.” She stuck her head into the chapel.
Hunter looked up from the table. “What’s up, baby?”
“Are you almost done?”
“Yeah. You okay?”
“Yes. I’m just tired. I think I’m going to lay down.”
“All right. I’ll be in soon.”
“Okay.” Holly blew him a kiss then walked back over to the pool table. “Mom?”
Brenda looked up from whatever fascinating thing Kol was telling her. “Yes, honey?”
“I’m going to bed.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to go soon, too.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Holly.”
Hunter had set up Brenda to stay in the room two doors down from his room. Holly smiled to herself. What should have been a wake for her dad had turned into a pretty good night.
Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Hunter
Hem came into the chapel and took a seat across from Hunter. “You guys got this run mapped out?”
Hunter nodded. “Yeah.” Maddox and Ryker had gone to bed, and the clubhouse was quiet.
“Something wrong?” Hem asked.
“Sometimes, I wonder if we shouldn’t ditch the drug hauling.”
“I hear you. It’s dirty money, but it’s money. Our membership dues would never be able to keep this house open. We all know that.” Hem twisted the turquoise ring on his middle finger.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I just always wonder when one of these runs is going to end in bloodshed. The Russians have been quiet. That concerns me.”
“I’ll check with the ATF tomorrow and see if there’s been any chatter.”
“Good.” Hunter stroked his beard. “You can sleep with us tonight if you want to.”
“Thanks. I’d rather not have to sleep with Maddox or Ryker tonight,” Hem said. “Last night changed things. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” Hunter lit a cigarette and slid the pack toward Hem. “Death and secrets forge strong bonds.”
“I’m glad she’s safe now.”
“Me too.” Hunter took a hard pull on his cigarette. “Make me a promise, Hem.”
The chair squeaked when Hem leaned back. He blew smoke up. “What?”
“If something happens to me, you’ll look after her.”
“Don’t say shit like that, Hunt. But you know I would.”
“Thanks, man. Let’s get some sleep.”
The two men walked down the hall to Hunter’s bedroom. Hem stopped. “Do you hear that?”
Hunter listened. “Sounds like her mom is crying. Shit.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. He didn’t want to have to try and console her.
“Go say something to her. I’m going to go ahead and take a shower.” Hem twisted the doorknob.
Hunter walked down to the room where Brenda was staying. He knocked softly, but the crying got louder. The door wasn’t latched all the way, and a gentle push opened it a crack.
Yeah. Brenda wasn’t crying. Well, she kind of was but not in the way he expected. Holly’s mom was buck-ass naked and riding Kol like a prize pony. He had a white-knuckle grip on her hips, his tan fingers dug into her pale flesh.
Hunter backed away pulled the door and closed it quietly. “Jesus fuck,” he said under his breath.
Back in his room, Holly was snoring softly, curled into her usual ball with her hand covering her face.
Hem emerged from the bathroom, wearing just a pair of boxers. He rubbed a white towel on his hair. “Is she okay?”
Hunter laughed and shook his head. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?” Hem asked.
“Uh, two things. One, Holly’s mom has a tattoo of a dolphin on her ass and, two, she’s down the hall fucking the shit out of your brother.”
Hem’s jaw dropped open. “For real?”
“For real.”
“This feels strangely incestuous.” Hem laughed and climbed into bed beside Holly.
“Totally does. But Holly’s mom is kind of hot.”
“Yeah. I’d do her.”
“You and Kol ever hit the same chick?” Hunter dropped his jeans and pulled his T-shirt over his head.
“Once. Speaking of incestuous, it was weird. I wouldn’t do it again. This girl was freaky as fuck. She wanted DP, but I was like no. I don’t want my dick that close to my brother’s dick. Ever.”
Hunter scrunched up his nose. “Yeah. I don’t think I’d dig that, either.”
The clubhouse had a decent sized kitchen with a stove and refrigerator. Paul’s wife came once a week and stocked it with the usual staples; bread, milk, eggs, coffee. Holly and her mother were busy cooking something. Both had their hair up in a ponytail and they were laughing.
Hunter liked to see them that way, but it reminded him that his mother wasn’t around anymore and he’d long since stopped feeling guilty that he wished it had been his father who had gone. Cancer was an ugly beast that devoured its host. His mother hadn’t deserved that kind of send-off.
Hem sat beside Hunter and sipped his coffee. “Has Kol made an appearance yet?” he asked.
“Haven’t seen him,” Hunter replied.
Like he’d heard his name being mentioned, Kol walked behind the bar and poured coffee into a mug. He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Morning, fellas.”
Hem and Hunter both turned around to face him. Sheepish didn’t begin to describe the look on Kol’s face.
&n
bsp; “What are you so smug about?” Hem asked.
“Okay.” Kol looked past them at the two women in the kitchen. “So, we were playing pool, right?”
Hem laughed. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
Kol ignored him and kept whispering. “She won. So, I told her I guessed I’d have to give her the hundred bucks tomorrow because I didn’t have any cash.”
Hunter knew where he was going with it.
“Then she says, ‘Well, I don’t really want to take your money.’ Then—no lie—she grabbed my dick. Right there.” His eyes got big. “I was like … okay then. She’s probably cock starved. I’ll take her back there and blow her fucking mind.” He blew on his coffee and took a sip. “Wrong. Dude, she ripped my boxers, literally ripped them. Then she knocked me on my ass and nearly broke my dick off. I think I’m bruised.”
Hunter laughed. “Fuck, man. Put some ice on your dick.”
“You can’t tell from the way she dresses, but she’s got great boobs with the tiniest pink nipples. God, I love the tiny pink nipples.” Kol tugged at the collar of his black T-shirt. “You know the ones that sit kind of high on the tit. Mmm. God damn. I love tits.”
Hem picked up his coffee. “Stop. You’re going to give us all hard-ons.”
Holly had a fantastic rack, so Hunter wasn’t surprised she got it from her mom.
“But seriously, she used my braids like god damned reins. I thought she was going to rip them out of my head.” He pulled his shirt up to reveal a set of claw marks on his stomach. “She came like a freight train and dug her nails into me. I lost flesh.”
“Battle wounds.” Hem smirked.
“It was beautiful, bro.” Kol looked toward the kitchen again like he was afraid Brenda was going to come out and drag him back to the bedroom. He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t normal behavior for someone recently widowed, right? You guys don’t think she killed him, do you? Because I’m not down for crazy. The pussy was amazing, but I’m too young to die.”
No one would ever know that Hunter had killed Holly’s dad. “She’s not crazy. She’s repressed. Repressed women are wild.” What he didn’t say was that she’d spent most of her life in a cage of sorts and now she was out. Her and Holly both.
Kol stood up straight and puffed out his chest. “Well, in that case … God, can you imagine Holly and her mom at the same time? Damn.” He bit his lip. “I need to watch some baseball or something. I’m gonna have a semi all fucking day.”
Hunter would be a liar if he said the thought had never crossed his mind. At the end of the day, he was a man, and men’s brains were mostly in their cocks. He wondered how close Holly and Brenda really were. Would her mother tell her about last night?
It didn’t matter. Brenda deserved some fun.
“How long is she staying here?” Kol asked. “Because I’ll tap that ass again.”
“Two weeks. You can tap that ass for two weeks. Then she’ll be back in Florida.” Hunter lit a cigarette.
“Perfect,” Kol said. “But I’m gonna ask her to trim her nails.”
Hem’s phone rang, and he got up to walk down the hallway. Whoever he was talking to, it was a one-sided conversation. Hem was silent as he paced back and forth with the phone to his ear. He nodded once then exhaled sharply. “Thanks.” The phone was dropped into the front pocket of his jeans. He touched Hunter’s arm. “We need church. Now.”
It took less than half an hour for the other Knights to congregate. In the meantime, Hem had filled Hunter and Kol in on what his snitch in the ATF had told him.
The doors were shut, and Paul took a seat at the head of the table. “What’s the emergency?”
Cigarette smoke swirled in the light that filtered in through the open blinds. Eight members were present. Enough for a quorum if a vote was necessary. Plato had been left to keep an eye on Holly and her mom.
“The Russians are planning to ambush our haul from El Paso.”
“Is this reliable intel?” Paul asked. The rings he wore covered the scars on his hands from a welding accident years ago that peeled the skin off his knuckles down to the bone.
“Straight from the ATF.” Hem exhaled. “They have someone deep undercover with the czar.” A particular ATF agent was on the club’s payroll. If some shit went down and the Knights found out he knew about it beforehand, shit would hit the fan.
Paul nodded. “So, we either abandon this shipment, or we go in force.”
Security was Hunter’s department. “If we abandon ship, I think it’ll be suspicious, and then we risk our relationship with Mescalito. We can’t let him think we aren’t handling our shit. I’m going to guess that the Russians are working with Cuespo to try and shut us out of business.” Hunter took a drag on his cigarette. “We should power up. Have a convoy. If the intel proves correct, we’ll take them out before they hit us. We can leave Friday night after the memorial. Sin, Ryker, and Butch will keep protocol. I’ll take the van with Hem, Kol, and Maddox. Then, Aries, Linc, and Talon can follow us in the SUV.”
“I don’t know.” Paul stroked his beard. “That puts almost all of us out there. I wouldn’t put it past them to set us up to hit the club while most of our players our hours away. Maybe leave Linc and Aries here to guard the clubhouse and take Plato and California with you. It’s time the prospects got a taste of what they’re signing up for.”
“That’ll work.” Hunter crushed his cigarette out.
Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
Holly
The memorial service went off without a hitch. A bunch of nicely dressed people showed up to talk about what a great guy her father was. There was a compulsion to try to remember only the good when someone died. But there wasn’t any for Holly. His last words to her had been to call her a cunt.
The asshole had been cremated and his ashes were currently in a plastic box in the trunk of her mother’s rental car. She was grateful there wouldn’t be a graveside service. More than anything, she wanted this whole shit show to be over so she could get back to normal, whatever that was now.
“You okay?” Hunter squeezed her hand.
“Yeah. I’m glad it’s over.”
He pulled out onto the highway heading toward Sugar Branch instead of back into Dallas.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I need to stop at my house.”
“I was beginning to wonder if you really had one.”
“Haven’t stayed there much lately.”
“You seem comfortable at the clubhouse.”
“I am. I lived there before I bought my house. I go home when I need quiet, though.”
The neighborhood was nicer than she expected. Brick and vinyl-sided homes with manicured lawns lined the streets. It was the kind of place families raised kids in. Hunter didn’t quite fit in. He pulled her Honda up to the double garage. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
A pile of mail was scattered on the tiled foyer floor. Unlike her neighborhood, Hunter’s had mail chutes in their front doors. He gathered up the envelopes and advertisements.
The living room was sparse with a simple navy sofa and dark wood coffee table. The walls were bare. A thick Berber carpet covered the floors.
Holly crossed her arms over her chest. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” He thumbed through the letters and dropped some into the trash can next to the kitchen table. “First thing I’ve ever owned for myself.”
“Did you buy it outright?” Houses in Dallas weren’t cheap, especially one that looked this nice. She wondered where he would get that kind of cash.
“No. I bought it with a VA loan and made extra payments until I paid it off two years ago.”
“Smart.”
“Do you own yours?”
“No. But my mortgage is low. My parents put fifty thousand down on it as a graduation present when I got my BA.”
Hunter took her by the hand. “I need to get some stuff from my room. So, what was it like growing up with all that money?”
&
nbsp; The question made her uncomfortable. “I don’t know anything else, so I can’t really answer that question. I had every material thing I could want. Nice clothes, all the popular toys.”
The bed in the room didn’t have a headboard just a simple frame. It was covered with a black comforter. A redwood dresser sat beneath a window. His house was neat, but it was hard to make a mess when he was never there.
He tossed a backpack on the bed and stuffed some socks and boxers in it.
“What is your family like?” she asked.
“The club is my family,” he snapped.
Holly swallowed and looked out into the hallway. It wasn’t her intention to hit a nerve. The silence was thick as he continued to fill his backpack with odds and ends.
“My mom was great. She died a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. My dad is a dick, and my brother is just like him. We don’t talk much. They don’t approve of my lifestyle. They expected some kind of hero when I came back from Iraq.”
“A lot of people don’t understand how violence changes you.” Growing up like she did, she learned how to hide shit that no one wanted to acknowledge anyway. It was easier that way for everyone. She didn’t have to be embarrassed, and other people didn’t have to be uncomfortable around her.
“It was a shock for me. The realities of war, I mean. I had an average childhood. I’d never seen anyone die. Then suddenly, I was surrounded by death.”
“I’ve never seen anyone die.”
“But you grew up around violence. I know you get where I’m coming from.”
She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his middle. “I do. I’m sorry they didn’t understand.”
He stroked the back of her head. “It is what it is.”
“Did you shoot my dad or did Hem?”
“I did. After Hem gave him a taste of his own medicine.”
“Did he know why?”
“Yeah.” Hunter kissed the top of her head.
“When I met him for lunch, do you know what his last words were to me?” she asked quietly.
“What?”
“He kissed my cheek and said, ‘You’re an ungrateful little cunt.’ I had this little bit of hope that maybe he’d be different. That maybe he’d give me a reason to call it off …”
