The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 3 (MC Chronicles #3)

by Bink Cummings

  “I’m fine, honey,” I soothe. “I’m not injured, and I wasn’t hurt. Once Malcolm realized what my mother was doin’, by setting him and y’all up and using me as ransom, he tried to right his wrong.”

  “How?” Big questions.

  “How what?”

  “How’d he take care of it?” he clarifies sharply.

  “He knocked her out and tied her to a chair.”

  “I’ll give them the cabin’s location,” Malcolm offers softly beside me, just as the second line on the phone beeps, alerting me of a call. I check the phone’s ID. It’s Gunz. I hit ignore.

  “He said he’ll give the cabin’s location, so you can handle her yourself,” I explain while the roar of motorcycles fill the receiver. I grin at the sound, longing for them to be here, not hundreds of miles away.

  “We’ve got another day of ridin’ before I’m gonna be home. I’m not pardoning Malcolm over the phone. But I’ll put a call into Gunz to have him locked up and put on watch till we get back. That’s the best I can do for ya. I am doin’ it for you,” Big emphasizes.

  “Are they gonna be nice and keep their hands to themselves?” I have to ask this because I know for certain some of the brothers can get a little creative with their punishments. I’ve seen it more times than I can count.

  “If I was kidnapped and some drug dealer cunt brought me home, would you be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

  Touché. He’s got a point, but I’m not caving. It’s my way or no way. “Then I guess I’ll see ya whenever then. ‘Cause I’m not feedin’ him to the wolves.” What kinda person would I be if I did? Would you?

  “Goddammit!” he roars, and I yank the phone away from my ear to keep from going deaf. If he’s not careful, he’s gonna cross over into his beast state. He’s flirting with that line with how much he’s been up and down with his emotions. I wait a few moments until his yelling has tamed to a dull growl before I place the phone back to my ear.

  “Fine,” he huffs. “I’ll call ‘em off, but you and Malcolm need to understand that he will either die or get beaten for this. There is no way he’s gonna walk away clean. He has a debt to pay, whether it be his life or by my hand, justice will be served and that’s concrete, Sugar Tits. There ain’t no negotiations. Ya got me?”

  Oh I get him alright; he’s crystal fucking clear. Part of me understands and sides with his hardened rules. My other side, the softer more emotional side that has been elevated by these potent pregnancy hormones, hates his rules. Yes, I agree he shouldn’t have kidnapped me or anyone for that matter. However, Malcolm has been a perfect doting gentleman since it all began. I’m choosing to cling to that, and the fact that he knocked my mother out and tied her to a chair. Just the thought of her incapacitated and probably out of her mind right now makes me want to tap my fingers together and cackle like the devil himself. So… to cut to the damn chase, I’m on Malcolm’s side, the side of redemption and not persecution. Although many times, they are one in the same.

  Not liking Big’s attitude, I blurt, “That’s fine, but you have a helluva lot to answer for yourself. And I’ll expect justice for that as well.”

  If Malcolm has to be punished for his sins, Big will also be served justice. President or not he is my old man. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I fucking said it. Well he is, isn’t he? So that means him not telling me about my sister and all that shit about my mother deserves its own form of justice. Right?

  “What the hell does that mean?” he snaps.

  “We’ll talk about it when we’re both home,” I reply calmly, trying to keep a handle on this conversation before it gets thrown off course again, and he does pass into his bestial state. I can’t leave him with the brothers in that condition.

  “Fine,” he growls curtly. “I’ll make the call to Gunz. I gotta roll out with the boys, and you’ve gotta get home.”

  A few more tense words are exchanged, and I’m rolling my window up as we say our goodbyes. I turn to Malcolm, “We’re good to go, no worries. I got your back,” I reassure him.

  Soon we are silently backing down the dirt road and headed toward the highway. Minutes pass as the GPS lady barks directions, and in what feels like warp speed, we are pulling up to the compound. The gate is already open, ready for our impending arrival so we roll straight through. Nervously, I hold on tight to the door handle, as my heart thumps erratically in my chest, and I keep a sharp lookout over the front of the clubhouse for any funny business. The massive spotlights mounted on the clubhouse’s roof, which are only used for emergencies, have been turned on. They’re blinding, impairing my vision as we pull forward. I’m forced to use my hand to shield my eyes, as they water and squint trying to focus. It seems impossible.

  Just as the van idles the last few feet into the gate, the gate rolls closed locking us inside. Malcolm turns to me in fear. “It’s just a precaution,” I explain, trying to sound convincing. It doesn’t do a damn thing to calm him though as his face quickly morphs from fear to sheer terror and his hands begin to tremble holding tightly onto the steering wheel.

  “Park out front,” I point to the building ahead that’s barely visible through the blinding lights. Rolling down my window, I unbuckle my seatbelt and stick my head out. “Would somebody shut those fucking things off? Nobody in here is armed or dangerous. Unless you don’t shut those damn lights off, then I’ll be forced to kick somebody’s ass!” I yell.

  My weightless threat earns me a deep echoing chuckle from Gunz, and the lights are cut off, leaving the regular outdoor ones to guide us the rest of the way to our spot. Malcolm parks and cuts the engine; then everything happens lightning fast. A string of brothers and my Sacred Sister’s bolt out of the clubhouses double doors. My door is thrown open by Deke, just as Malcom’s door is opened by someone else. Deke doesn’t waste a second to rush in, grab me like a blushing bride, and cart me into the clubhouse headed straight for the safety of my bedroom. I grab around his neck and hold on tight as the tall Viking of a man carries me like I weigh nothing. Glancing over his shoulder, I see the whole lot of sisters following right behind us, determination and worry etched in their beautiful faces.

  “Well hello to you too,” I peck Deke’s cheek as he strategically maneuvers us through the door and into the hall without hitting my feet or head on the doorframe. He faintly grins but doesn’t speak, as he continues to walk with purpose. At the end of the hallway, Deke makes the turn and just as I had suspected stops right in front of my door. Candy Cane with my key in her hand shuffles in front of us to let us in. Deke crosses the threshold and drops to sit on the bed, me still in his arms. Letting out a heavy sigh, he curls me closer to him and stuffs his face in my messy unwashed hair.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he whispers, kissing the side of my head. “I didn’t know what the hell happened.” His arms are like bands of steel as he hugs me close. I turn into him, so we are cheek-to-cheek, his face in my hair, my belly pressed to his. It feels so good to be this close to someone after all that’s went down in the past week. In one week, my life has seen more drama than some people do in an entire lifetime.

  Jezebel speaks beside us, “Are you alright, Bink?”

  “Yeah, what the heck happened to you?” Debbie asks.

  “You can’t scare me like that again, Bink,” Deke groans and shifts a little. Then I feel it, a hard thickness touching the outside of my thigh.

  Holy fuckin’ shit, he’s as hard as a baseball bat. I clear my suddenly dry throat and ignore the erection. It’s not like he can help having it, can he?

  “I’ll try not to,” I whisper to his cheek and kiss it softly.

  Knowing this is highly inappropriate to be sitting this intimately with Deke, I shift in his lap, leaving only one arm draped over his shoulder as I turn my head to speak to my sisters.

  “I’m fine, no harm done,” I try my best to sound breezy. It works ‘cause the sisters all visibly relax. Not sure what they expected when I returned, but I’m sure it wasn’t how I’m acting. I guess
I’d probably be concerned too and worried about their wellbeing if they’d just undergone what I had. I’d expect them to be distraught, except I’m not really that torn up about it. I’m just happy to be home, safe and sound. The shit with my mother seems like a distant memory by now, and I would love to keep it there. Although I know I can’t because I’m dying to find out more about my sister and all that shit entails. I can only hope that those people in my life who chose to keep her a secret will stop trying to pretend any longer. Full disclosure, that’s all I want.

  “So are ya gonna tell us what happened?” Pixie asks.

  I bob my head. “Sure,” I reply, as Deke’s face remains in my hair, his hot breath bathing my scalp in warmth as his hand remains wrapped around me. He doesn’t speak, and the sisters get comfortable. Pixie and Jez lean against the wall, crossing their arms. Dixie plops down on the floor. Candy Cane jumps up and sits on the edge of my dresser. Debbie is the only one to stand unmoving in the middle of the room, arms at her sides, patiently waiting for me start.

  “Niki and Gunz were fuckin’ in the hotel bathroom…” I begin my story. By the time I finish telling them all about the kidnapping, the cabin, and talking to my mother (leaving out the details about my sister), Gunz strolls into the room in a mood. He stops beside me on Deke’s lap, looks between him and I, shakes his head, grabs my free hand, and tugs me off his lap. Gunz helps me stand and immediately curls his hand around my shoulders, forcing me to stay at his side, protectively.

  Then he glares at Deke, “Are you a fucking moron?” Gunz smacks Deke upside the head, and Deke flinches. “She’s not your old lady. You’ll do good to remember that,” he chastises. “Now go check on the prisoner and…”

  I watch Gunz’s focus drop to Deke’s crotch. “That better never happen again,” his chin jerks, gesturing to Deke’s erection. “I’m gonna let that go for now and not tell Big. This happens again, and I will,” he threatens.

  I’m not sure if Deke is stunned but his face drops, turning grim. He doesn’t say a word as he stands, nods at Gunz refusing to spare me a glance, and out the door he goes, shoulders slumped, messy blonde hair flopped over his forehead. I want to yell at Gunz for being a dick to him, but I’m too tired from the long day. I know he was just doing what he thought was best.

  Gunz puts his hand on my belly and rubs, “My grandbaby doin’ good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How ‘bout ya say goodbye to your sisters, and then we’ll talk,” Gunz suggests, continuing to rub my belly in sweet circles.

  I listen and detach from him to go give my sisters some much needed hugs.

  “Be good. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Get some rest,” Debbie whispers as she hugs me.

  “Love ya sister, glad you’re home,” Pixie says while we hug.

  “Don’t ya worry. I’ll make sure Big kicks that fuckin’ cunt’s ass,” Jez states strongly and kisses my cheek as we hug. I kiss hers back.

  “Don’t worry. Gunz’ll take good care of ya,” Dixie conveys, as we’re forced to awkwardly maneuver to keep our bellies from colliding as we embrace.

  “I’ll bring by something for you to eat in the morning. Glad to have you back,” Candy Cane says, as she’s the final sister to hug me.

  The sisters shuffle out of the room, and Gunz doesn’t waste a second to have me back at his side after he shuts and locks my bedroom door.

  “I already talked to Big. Do you wanna speak to him?” he asks, tugging me into a side hug, arm curled around my lower back, hand on my belly, lips on my forehead.

  I smile and wrap my arms around his middle, my head resting on the side of his chest. Inhaling, I get the beautiful scent of all that is Gunz.

  Releasing me for a moment, he reaches into his cut and pulls out two suckers. He unwraps them with one hand, not letting me go. He places one in my mouth and the other in his, as he lets the trash fall to the ground. I accept the yummy dumdum and suck on it, savoring the sweetness and reveling in the simple way it makes me feel safe. Never thought a sucker could make you feel this way, but Gunz’s suckers are magical.

  Gunz twirls his sucker in his mouth.

  Pulling it out with a ‘pop’, he says, “Ya never did say. Do ya wanna talk to Big?”

  Shaking my head, I brush my cheek against his pec and close my eyes.“No, not tonight. We were pissin’ each other off earlier. He doesn’t like me stickin’ up for Malcolm,” I whisper.

  “Alright,” he presses a kiss to my hair. “I suppose you can just relax tonight, but we gotta talk sometime.” Gunz slackens his hold around me. “Now off ya go to shower,” he pats my back and presses against it like he’s going to push me to the bathroom.

  Sighing, I open my eyes and kiss his chest, taking the hint. “Okay, sounds fair.”

  I slink to the bathroom. Just as I’m shutting the door, Gunz explains to my retreating back, “I’ll be out here when you’re done. I’ll get ya some clothes and something to eat. We won’t talk yet, but I’m sleepin’ here tonight. Can’t leave ya alone.”

  I nod once and smile softly, looking at the ground. Of course Gunz would take care of me. He always has and always will. Sometimes I wonder what I would have done without him in my life. I definitely wouldn’t be who I am today or where I am. Peering at my belly, my smile widens, and I rub my daughter. I most certainly wouldn’t have this beautiful girl on the way if it wasn’t for him. Even through all the stress and bullshit life throws at me, I’m very lucky to be so loved, especially by Gunz.

  Shutting the bathroom door, I hear him leave. Before I undress, I finish my sucker, throw the stick in the trash, use the potty, and turn the shower on hot. Once it’s acclimated, I remove my borrowed clothes and step in the tub. The steamy heat quickly engulfs me, melting the stress away and washing it down the drain. Leaning against the wall, I let the spray pelt my back while I close my eyes, savoring the relaxation after such a long day.

  Tomorrow Big will be home and more drama will unfold I’m certain, but for the rest of the night I am just going to relax in bed with Gunz by my side. I can’t think of a better way to end this week of uncertainty.

  See ya tomorrow. Oh and Happy Easter. Go eat some chocolate and catch some shuteye, ‘cause that’s what I’m about to do. Peace.

  Monday, April 21, 2014

  The sound of Hogs echo in the distance, alerting us that the brothers are finally home. It’s about damn time! It’s been a long day waiting for them. I’ve spent it talking to the sisters in the clubhouse as Candy Cane and Debbie fawn over me twenty four seven, making sure I’m A-OK. I think they’re all waiting for me to have some sorta meltdown and are preparing themselves to pick up the pieces when I do. I feel fine. I keep telling them that, but nobody’s listening.

  Deke has been M.I.A since Gunz treated him like shit. When I tried to leave the clubhouse to go check on him, Gunz forbade me and had Debbie escort me to the kitchen to eat more. I’ve already eaten enough food to feed five grown men, but they just keep shoving it in my face. Bink wants to see Deke, feed her some food. Bink wants to talk with Malcolm and bring him lunch, let her fix lunch for him then feed her some more food as somebody else delivers the sandwich and chips to Malcolm in the sterile containment room. Bink wants to go home, feed her some food. Bink wants some alone time, make her bake cookies and feed them to her. For cryin’ out loud, I don’t want any more to eat! I wish they’d just stop treating me like a damn delicate flower. I’m not one. If I have to eat another chip, another Italian Ice, or another fucking turkey sandwich, I’m gonna slit somebody’s throat. One person can only handle so much damn apple juice and so many bottles of water before they explode. I’ve already been to the bathroom a billion times today. Don’t worry, I’m not even allowed to do that alone. I know they’re doing all of this out of love, but fuck, I need a breather. At least let me piss in peace for Christ sake.

  As the sounds of the motorcycles grow near, the sisters stop what they’re doing and stand by the front glass doors of the clubhouse, looking out. I rem
ain seated on the couch with my hands wrapped around my belly. Jezebel and Pix look over their shoulders at me, and I silently wave them off with a tight smile. I’m not going to get up until the last second. How Big is going to react to me is still up in the air, and I’m not looking forward to the drama.

  This very moment takes me back to a time when I was a teen living in the clubhouse. A time where I was sitting on a threadbare couch watching Debbie shoot pool as we awaited the brothers’ return. It was a scorching summer day, and a day I will vividly remember for the rest of my life.

  The sounds of motorcycles in the distance alerted us they were on their way home. Everyone in the room looked at each other with relief and rushed out the front door to stand on the gravel drive. We hadn’t heard from anyone for almost a week, and the old ladies were worried sick. The worst part was Hype, one of the original brothers who’d stayed after Big took over as president was also showing signs of weighted concern. If Hype, the sixty-some year old man who always stayed behind to keep an eye on the place, was worried, we knew we should be. So…I was too. I had been without Big for weeks, which rarely happened. I missed him, I missed Gunz, I missed daddy, and I was terrified that something had happened to them.

  It felt like a lifetime waiting for those bikes to roll through the gate as I clung to Debbie’s hand, shaking with both fear and excitement. Debbie smiled at me tight lipped, trying to mask her feelings. I’ve know the woman most of my life, and I knew she felt the same as I did. I smiled back, squeezing her hand to show my support.

  Once the bikes started to roll through the opened gate everything unfolded so fast that I could barely keep up. Gunz urgently dismounted his bike and ran to Big, who was cut-less and clutching his hip with a towel soaked in blood. My daddy darted off his Harley and ran to Dallas who was stumbling to get off his bike, bandana wrapped around his bicep, blood running down his arm.