Somehow, Zoann had convinced Christopher of Val’s worthiness. Fee craved the same.
“What can I get you, Fee?”
“Hey, Potter,” she greeted yet another Probate. Recognition at the club made her feel accepted and removed her overwhelming grief, for a little while. “A beer.”
He nodded, then turned to get her order. “Outlaw and Meggie left a couple hours ago,” he said once he slid her a cold bottle.
Taking a deep taste, she sighed in pleasure. “I figured.” Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come.
“You want me to call Prez? It’s crazy around here.”
As if to illustrate the point, a hoarse shout rose above the other noise. Christopher would come running to rescue her. He’d also read her the riot act for subjecting herself to the orgy-in-the-making.
Fee’s shoulders slumped, the beer or the party no longer appealing to her. She shouldn’t have come. Both Cash and Stretch had her address and her cell phone number. If they wanted her, they knew how to find her.
She tasted more of her beer.
After her mother’s death, she’d floundered, dropping out of film school and losing interest in life. Despite her own problems, Zoann hadn’t allowed Fee to give up, insisting she return to the land of the living.
Fee had just conquered her grief when a crazy man gunned down her sisters and nieces last year, crumbling her world all over again. She didn’t know what to do, where to go, or who to go to. Both Christopher and Zoann had their own families, though they’d move heaven and hell to help Fee.
At the end of the day, they’d return to their spouses and their children. What Fee wanted most was her own family. Marriage to Cash and his kids.
“Fee?” Stretch’s beer-laced breath fanned her ear and the side of her neck. “What are you doing here?”
Licking droplets of beer from her lips, she turned toward him, warmed by his smile. Locks of brown hair fell across his forehead, his blue eyes drinking her in. If not for the scar running on the left side of his face, he’d be perfect.
“I came to see Cash,” she said, close to his ear, still shouting over the din of the crowd. “And you.”
Stretch’s disapproval at her answer didn’t bode well, but Fee preferred a clean break. Waiting to hear from them wore on her.
Tapping his fingers on the bar, Stretch searched her face. “Potter, give me a beer. Call me when it settles down in here,” he instructed the man after he got his drink. “Come on.”
He clutched her elbow and helped her off the stool, waiting until she grabbed her nearly empty bottle of beer. His uneven gait slowed their progress, but he got them to Cash’s table.
“Cash,” Stretch called.
Grinning, Cash lifted his head from between the breasts of a girl with white-blonde hair. He caught Fee’s gaze, his smile fading away, replaced with an intensity that both drew and repelled. He shot to his feet, his intentions to go to Fee quite clear, but the naked, blonde girl stopped him.
She grabbed his hand, using it to cover one of her breasts. Laying her hand over his, she squeezed.
Cash removed her hand and pointed to Fee, glaring at Stretch. “Get her out of here.”
“I’m trying to, Cash,” Stretch argued. “That’s why I’m bringing her to my room.”
“Stretch…” Cash began in warning tones.
“What do you want me to do? Leave her on her own?”
“Come on, Ghost,” the girl pouted. “I want to fuck you.”
As Fee wrestled her jealousy, Stretch dragged her down the hall, going in the opposite direction of Christopher’s office and the board room, both doors closed. Stretch rounded another corner, passing an additional hallway. At the end, he hooked a right a final time, approaching the last door on the left. There, he unlocked both the knob and a deadbolt, stepping aside so Fee could enter, then flipping on the light and slamming the door closed.
Gasping, she widened her eyes, taking in the bed and nightstand, and a cattycornered chest of drawers. But the bank of monitors on one wall and three picnic tables holding computers and other gadgets that Fee couldn’t identify captured her attention.
“What’s all this?”
Stretch dug in his cut for a cigarette. “Mission control.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
Limping to his nightstand, he got a lighter and lit his cigarette, then grinned at her. “It’s my mission control, Fee. This is where I track Meggie and the kids and where I watch over the club when I’m not on gate duty.” He pointed to the top row of monitors, offering an amateur porn show, thanks to the connected camera overlooking the pool tables. The girl who’d been spread out earlier now fucked two bikers. “I can see almost every angle of the common room if I choose.”
She rocked on her heels and sipped her beer, wondering if she should ask to turn on the monitor that covered Christopher’s usual table, the one where Cash sat at tonight.
“There’s a bank of monitors behind the bar,” she said, instead of making such an insane request. She wasn’t a glutton for punishment.
Stretch alternated between his cigarette and his beer, studying her. Setting his bottle on the nightstand, he picked up a remote. Two of the monitors flared to life, while the top one that overlooked the pool area, changed. Fee took in each of the three monitors and her mouth dropped open. Even before she saw Meggie heading towards CJ’s room, Fee recognized the wooden floors.
“That’s Christopher’s house!”
He nodded. “Every room, except the bedrooms, are monitored,” he explained. “Footage is recorded. In case someone ever gets in my room, they’d see the club if they turned on the monitors. Without special codes, they can’t see inside Outlaw’s house.”
“But…why?”
“You really have to ask me that?” he snorted, finishing his cigarette and throwing it on the ground to stomp it out. “Meggie, of course. After the last attack the night of Ryder’s birth, Outlaw takes no chances.”
“Wow.” She looked at the machine resembling an amplifier, where a pair of headphones rested on top. “What’s that?”
He made his way to her and fired up the computers, turning a few dials on the amplifier thing while he logged on. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he bumped her hip with his own. “Ready for this shit?”
She laughed. “Am I?”
He winked at her, melting Fee’s heart. “Who knows?”
A whirring noise filled the room. “Meggie’s car. Silent now because she’s home.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Nope.”
“Christopher’s crazy,” Fee squealed.
“Same thing Meggie says.”
Her mouth dropped open. “She knows?”
“Well, yeah. About this.” He pressed a few more buttons and a map came up, with a very small circle on the screen. “The tracking device on her phone.” The screen switched and an address came up. “The one on her car.” Another screen showed the clubhouse. “The device in her wallet is the one she’s aware of. That one isn’t as accurate, however.”
“No fucking way! This…how is this even possible?”
He raised to his full height, his eyes twinkling. Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it. “The dark web,” he whispered, like it was some deep secret. “We can get anything we need there, with much more sophisticated technology.”
“I don’t know whether to be in awe or to be outraged. This limits where she goes.”
“Hell no! It’s because she goes everywhere that he has all this.”
“Doesn’t she have guards?”
Stupid question. When Fee lived on the premises, she’d had them, too, so it went without saying that Meggie had them.
“Yeah. He just wants her safe.”
“That’s…that’s sweet. In a very Christopher way. I wish I had a man who worried about my safety so much.”
Stretch drew her closer. “You’d be surprised at how safe you are.”
“Yeah, with Christopher as m
y big brother, right?”
He stroked her cheek. “Don’t underestimate him. Meggie is his primary concern not his only concern. He takes the role as head of the family seriously.”
After brushing his lips against hers, Stretch stepped away from her. “This is our secret,” he said, shutting down all his toys. “I’m not supposed to show this to anyone who’s not an officer in the club.”
She raised her fingers in front of her mouth and simulated turning a key on a lock. “My lips are sealed. You couldn’t drag it out of me.”
A sudden pounding rattled the closed door. “Open up,” Cash demanded. “Now.”
Fee’s heart started a frantic rhythm in her chest. She wanted to find a mirror and check her appearance. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time. Stretch hobbled to the door and yanked it open.
“Where’s your cane?” Cash slammed the door shut, not waiting for Stretch to answer. “It’s cold outside and you’ve been using it all fucking day.”
“I left it behind the bar. To escort Fee.”
“You could’ve fallen.”
“Stop being such an asshole.” Tapping her foot, Fee fisted her hands on her hips. “He knows when he can’t get around without it. You’re humiliating him.”
“How? It’s just you in here,” he sneered.
“Just me?”
Stretch gave her an imploring look. “He didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“I think he did,” she said in a strong voice, although inside her heart shattered at the hard words. She’d come here to see them, but, she’d also wanted answers. With that one statement, she had them.
Cash gave a long-suffering sigh. “What do you want, Fee?”
“I wanted to talk to you and Stretch. Invite you over to dinner tomorrow night,” she ad-libbed, the idea not coming to her until just then.
“You couldn’t call?” Cash raised up his cell phone that she hadn’t realized he held in his hand. “You have my number.”
“I’ve left messages for you and Stretch. You haven’t called back.”
Stretch glanced at the floor, while Cash continued to stare at her with an unflinching regard.
“I want us to have a normal relationship.”
There was nothing normal about a ménage relationship. Society would frown upon it. Hell, eighteen months ago, if anyone had told her she’d be in love with two men and they all wanted a relationship with each other, she would’ve laughed in their faces.
So, exactly, what was she saying? Was this it? The day she took the Hail Mary and went after Cash? Or was she really saying she’d accept Stretch? He was a good guy, sweet and so patient with her. The way he’d gotten her away from Cash and his Bobs a little while ago reminded Fee that he had his own code of chivalry that protected her from everyone and everything, Cash included. Even when they competed for Cash’s attention.
“We can be so happy together.” At least, they could try. Showing Cash they wanted what he wanted might convince him to commit. “If Christopher knows and accepts it, everyone else will. He might be angry.” Understatement. “There might be one or two repercussions.” The kind that would take a few days to heal. “But he’d know and that would be less pressure.”
“I’m not telling Outlaw about us.” Cash’s words held a finality that Fee detested.
She had years left to think about kids and marriage, but she’d started to have baby fever. The deaths of her relatives left a hole in her heart, a void she longed to fill. A baby would give her new focus. Her own family, affording her a much-desired connection. “We can start a family. I want kids. So does Stretch. Don’t you?”
“This isn’t going to work,” Cash continued in that same tone. “I’m not getting my dick shot off for a doomed relationship. You’re asking me for shit I’m not willing to give.”
“We’ve been sleeping together on and off for months behind Christopher’s back.” Cash disappeared for weeks, then called her and asked to see her. Sometimes, it would be just the two of them. Other times, it was both him and Stretch. However…“Suddenly, neither of you are calling me. It’s the pressure of the deceit.”
“This is what I mean.” Cash indicated her with his hand, talking to Stretch as if she wasn’t in the room. “This is why we have to back away from her.”
“You can’t talk for him.” The moment the words left her mouth, she looked at Stretch. He still refused to meet her gaze and realization hit her. “But he can,” she whispered to him. “You love Cash more than me.” Just as she loved Cash.
What did this all mean?
Cash closed his eyes. “Don’t sound like that, Fee,” he said bleakly.
“Fee, we don’t want to lead you on.” Stretch broke in. “You started the affair with Cash, not me. I want us to make this work. He doesn’t want to.”
“Because of Christopher?” Fee cried in outrage.
“No,” Cash denied. “Because of you. You want a family, something we can’t give to you.”
“Something you don’t want to give to me.”
“Each time I’m with you, you want more. If you’re willing to accept this on my terms, we can fuck for the next twenty years. Stop talking about a family. You also both have to agree that we do it together, all three of us, or we don’t do it with each other at all.”
Cash half expected either Fee or Stretch to tell him to go and fuck himself. Fee wanted commitment and Stretch wanted exclusivity. He cared about both of them, wanted both of them. That being the case, why point out that they could do so much better than what he offered? The onus to look out for himself rested on his shoulders. If they wanted to give, he’d take.
It made him an asshole, but his father’s behavior showed Cash the necessity of caring for himself. Parnell had walked away from Cash and his mother, threw money at them—in Parnell McCall’s mind, money solved everything—and went on with his life. He allowed Cash to visit his new family, though he’d never bonded with his children.
Perhaps, Cash’s early life had something to do with how he felt about relationships. His father was shit at relationships, to such an extreme that Cash’s stepmother committed suicide because of Parnell’s antics.
Cash liked fun. He enjoyed sex. Stretch wanted more, looking to Cash for happiness or completion. Looking for something. It scared the fuck out of him. Unwilling to take responsibility for Stretch’s emotions, he kept him at a distance. Then, Cash brought Fee into the relationship and really complicated the situation.
The gene that linked Cash to Parnell also sealed his fate on commitment and fidelity.
Stretch gazed at Cash’s mouth, a moment before he stepped to him and gripped his cock.
In his eyes, Cash saw everything he should want—mainly love. A love he wasn’t quite sure he deserved, from either of them.
For two different reasons, he tried so fucking hard to stay away from Stretch and Fee, but always ended up back in their arms.
He brushed his lips over Stretch’s, ignoring his inclination to go to Fee since Stretch laid claim to him with this maneuver.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cash saw Fee’s shoulders stiffen and her mouth tighten.
“You finished fucking those girls, so now you’ve come to us,” she said, just to interrupt the moment.
He grinned in her direction. “I didn’t fuck those girls.” Smirking at her, he considered her from the top of her dark brown hair, pausing at her too small, almost indecent, skirt, before continuing to the short boots she wore on her feet. “Why take one of them when I have the two of you in here?”
Nostrils flaring, Stretch searched Cash’s face. Fee swallowed, relaxing again, accepting his story.
He crooked his finger at her. She walked to him, allowing him to wrap an arm around her and tug her into an embrace. A gesture he mirrored with Stretch.
As much as he swore he protected himself by staying in the relationship on his terms, his head hurt at the fucking wrongness of fucking over two people who refused to protect themselves.
/>
One reason he’d stayed away from Fee. He wanted to safeguard her against him.
Of all the things he’d expected, he never thought she’d hunt him down. What should he do in this situation?
Searching his conscience, he stood in the embrace, quiet, listening to his thoughts.
“We love you.” Fee spoke the problem in a nutshell.
Cash didn’t know if he’d betrayed Stretch by bringing her into their relationship. Or if it was a natural progression. They both enjoyed women. They’d had several brief, meaningless threesomes. The difference was Fee wasn’t brief or meaningless. He’d also chosen her without Stretch, breaking their agreement to select a woman together.
He released both of them, familiar emptiness creeping in.
“I’m going back to the party,” he announced, affecting unconcern. Dealing with their jealousy towards each other wasn’t on tonight’s to-do list. It wasn’t present all of the time—most of the time—but when it was, it was hell. “Let me walk you to your car, Fee.”
She drew her brows together. Suddenly, her eyes brightened and she backed up to Stretch’s bed. The mattress hit the back of her legs, and she plopped down. Without pause, she unzipped each of her boots, then kicked them off.
“How do you turn your music on?”
Stretch looked as mystified at Fee’s behavior as Cash felt as he connected his phone to speakers and pulled up his music subscription service. “Any particular track?”
Mischief livened her face. “Anything I can strip to.”
“Ophelia,” Cash started in warning tones. If she ended up naked, he’d never be able to resist her. Pushing her away was already hard. That small admission irritated the fuck out of him. “It’s time to go.”
Forgetting about the music and catching on to her intentions, Stretch sat next to her. They both glanced at him before tearing into each other’s mouths.
Cash needed to get the fuck out. If they wanted to fuck, he wouldn’t interfere. He’d watched them before, but then she made the little noise, where she lost herself to pleasure, that tortured Cash.
Stretch unbuttoned her top and removed it. He unfastened her bra and slid it down her arms. His fingers looked so tanned and rough against her creamy skin as he took one of her apricot-colored nipples into his mouth. Throwing her head back, Fee threaded her fingers through his hair. She made that sound again.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 298
