Bitter Sweet Deception (The Kingsmen M.C Book 4)

by Oakes, Tara

  “She wanted it so bad she practically bit your fucking ear off, you asshole?” I point out.

  “Stick to the code, Clink,” Hawg commands.

  Hawg may not be myprez, but he’s still a prez, and he’s right. I’m gonna beat the ever-loving shit out of this kid, within an inch of his sorry life, but I’m gonna do it the right way. Vince breaks through the crowd, T.J. right beside him. I had sent my sworn brother to go grab our own prez, and fill him in on the walk over.

  “This the dead man?” Vince asks.

  I nod “This is him. He fucking attacked her. His ass is mine.” I eye my prez, my eyes showing the severity of my intentions.

  Vince acknowledges my request, nodding over to Hawg, “Let’s start this.”

  The two of them walk off, just far enough to keep to themselves. The prospect is still on the ground, knowing full well that if he attempts to get up again, his ass is gonna go down. The two leaders hash out the details and then return.

  Hawg reaches down and grabs the prospect by the cuff of his leather, pulling the kid up. He harshly removes the leather cut from around the asshole’s shoulders, crumpling it into a ball and then throwing it into the fire.

  “You went after a woman who didn’t belong to you, at a club function. You knew she was either an ol’lady or a family member of a brother. Either way…off limits. That alone is enough to strip you of your leather. You’re done.” He looks to me now. “The fact that it was his ol’lady,” he nods to me, “is enough cause to kill you.”

  Hawg turns his back on the kid, and rests his hand on my shoulder before leaving. “He’s all yours, don’t make a mess.”

  ******

  I hit the bathhouse before making my way back to my cabin. I know Sugar’s waiting for me, but the last thing I need is for her to see me like this right now. Tiny has the good sense to run and grab me a fresh pair of jeans and a towel as I’m rinsing off under the shower. Jay throws me a bar of soap over the metal half-wall divider.

  “You calmin’down now?” he asks, leaning against the tiles behind him, eyes fixed on his fingernail as he concentrates on his thumb.

  I submerge myself under the steady stream of lukewarm water to rinse away the splatters of blood. “Gettin’there, bro.”

  He nods.

  “His bike?” I ask.

  He looks up as Tiny rejoins us, denim and linen in hand. “Still burning. T and Leo took it off about a mile and lit it up.”

  I lift my chin in silent thanks and dry myself off, all traces of violence cleansed from my skin,

  “Good. The cab driver’s gonna text Blue after the douchebag is dropped at the E.R.”

  Cage follows Tiny, quiet, the last hour having been the first time he’s seen first hand how club justice is carried out. Needless to say, our newest prospect is still taking it all in. The shit-head can’t walk on his own, but at least I left him breathing.

  I throw the old, bloodied jeans and t-shirt to him, “Throw these in the bonfire.”

  He catches them, eyes wide and stares at the material evidence in his hands.

  “You waiting for us to draw you a fuckin’map? Get going!” Jay snaps our prospect from his stunned stupor.

  Cage nods quickly. “Yes, sir.” He’s gone within a matter of seconds.

  Jay’s been holding onto my cut since before I started pummeling the would-be rapist, keeping it safe from being damaged. I take it back from him, sliding my bare arms through the holes. It’s just chilly enough to wonder why Tiny didn’t have the good sense to bring me a shirt, too. Whatever. The anger continuing to pump through my veins is still warming my skin.

  I shake my head back and forth, fast and sharp, to try to throw some last drops of water off, “I need some fuckin’sleep. My hands are gonna kill me tomorrow.”

  The two of them follow as I walk the twenty five yards or so to my cabin. We’re quiet as we enter, not knowing how we’ll find the girls inside. It’s late. I had hoped Sugar would be sleeping. No such luck.

  They say their goodbyes and the two ladies leave my woman to tend to their own men. I close the door as best I can behind them. I hadn’t kicked it open as hard as I could have, but I’ll still have to fix the alignment in the morning.

  Sugar is sitting crossed-legged in the center of the bed. Her eyes are dry, her posture slumped, tired. The room is quiet, we watch each other. I fold my leather cut over the back of the half-broken chair in the corner of the small wooden room.

  “Did you kill him?” Sugar asks through the darkness between us.

  I exhale, “No.”

  She lifts herself, raising on her knees, facing me. “Are you lying to me?”

  Reaching out, I thumb her lower lip. “No.”

  “I want to believe you,” she claims, her voice hushed.

  I join her on the bed, urging her to lie back, “I will never give you a reason to not believe me. We don’t do that, Sugar. We don’t lie to each other. You asked me, I told you the truth.”

  I hold her, feeling her arms slowly wind themselves around me. She breathes deep into my chest, the warmth of her breath tickling over me, calming me.

  “It never would have happened if I was wearing my rag….”

  I pull back just far enough to search out the darkness of her pupils. “You don’t believe that?”

  She shakes her head, “I don’t know…maybe-“

  I kiss her forehead, drawing her in. “Rag or not…it wasn’t your fault. It could have been anyone. And if it had been someone else, they might not have had the sense you did. This could have ended a helluva lot worse for some other girl tonight, babe.”

  She wiggles her way in closer. “Thank you for finding me.”

  I know she can’t see my face, but I close my eyes tight to hide the emotion. “Sugar, I will always find you. You’re part of me now.”

  ******

  CHARLIE

  Needless to say, my first official week as an ol’lady was…eventful. However awkward I thought it would be facing the shit load of bikers the morning after the “incident” as I will forever call it, it was equally and surprisingly empowering knowing that my man would go to whatever lengths necessary to protect us…to protect me.

  I’d been able to gather from the bits and pieces here and there that Clink had spared the young guy after a thorough ass whooping, and the kid was banned from the Kingsmen for good. He was telling me the truth when he promised he didn’t kill him. He never said he didn’t beat the ever-loving shit out of him, just that he didn’t kill him.

  The experience gave me an insider’s look at how the club doled out justice. After everything I’ve seen on the other end of things at the hospital, I’m not a fan of violence…but I’m proud of him for not taking things further than he did. And the club respected him for it, I think.

  Hawg, I think that was his name…maybe it was Hog? Well, he came up to me personally and apologized before we all made way, heading home. He apologized to Clink, too, and thanked him for handling it quickly.

  I bandaged Clink’s hands up properly when we got back to my place, cleaning out the split skin over his knuckles. Between the handful of nights spent at his place, and then the two nights in the cabin, I really just needed to chill in my own bed, in my own space for a night.

  The timing worked out pretty well, though. He had some sort of delivery to make for the club last night, anyway. With a quiet apartment all to myself, I lit a candle, drew a bath and then vegged out in front of a sappy TV movie before passing out. Other than the few texts from Clink checking in, it was a night of sweet solitude.

  The ride to Oakton should take me just over two hours. Mom’s supposed to meet me at Tempura’S at around two o’clock, so I make sure to leave Chisolm before noon. Mom has never been a patient person; if I leave her waiting in a restaurant more than a few minutes, I’ll just be opening myself up to her passive/aggressive payback when I finally show. It’s just easier to get there first and throw her off-kilter a bit, leave her scrambling for something el
se to harp about.

  Tempura’s is a modern Japanese steakhouse with a kick-ass sushi bar. I eye the scrumptious rolls as my waiter leads me to my table, and as the uniformed sushi chefs create their delicacies. No one in Chisolm eats sushi. Well…maybe Lil’s does, but being knocked isn’t exactly conducive to eating raw fish. I plan on ordering at least two or three things to make up for lost time. The waiter leaves me with our menus and sees to it that we have a round of tall water glasses before leaving me to wait for my guest to arrive.

  I check my watch. I have eleven minutes to spare. I check my makeup in my small compact mirror. Looks OK, even for mom’s standards. I smooth my black wrap dress and tighten the belt…wouldn’t want her claiming I’ve put on a few pounds. My knee high boots are trendy but now I’m second-guessing myself…God, I hope she doesn’t think they’re trampy.

  After my thorough inspection of my appearance, I grow restless waiting for her. My glass of water is almost finished, my chopsticks opened and practiced with. I’m rusty at first, but I’ll get the hang of it. The pinging of my message alert on my phone saves me from beginning to play with the sugar packets. It’s Lil’s.

  HEY CHARLIE…MY POP’S NOT FEELING WELL

  HE’S BURNING UP

  GONNA BRING HIM IN TO THE E.R.

  YOU WORKING THERE TODAY?

  Crap. I haven’t had a chance to speak to her since we got back from the campout yesterday. She’s probably getting herself all worked up about Butch getting high or drunk and having a bad reaction. It’s pathetic. At his age, he should start acting like a damn adult and not a deadbeat. Even though I know that’s not likely.

  SORRY. I’M OFF TILL THURSDAY.

  I’M JUST RUNNING SOME ERRANDS

  DO YOU WANT ME TO CALL THE NURSE’S STATION

  AND SEE WHAT DOC IS ON DUTY?

  I can’t believe he has the fucking nerve to put his daughter out like this.

  What am I saying?

  Of course I can believe it. Just look at his track record. It’s disgusting.

  “Darling!” my mom is in earshot. I look up from my phone and search for the face to match the voice. She’s dressed to the nines, hostess leading her to me.

  And…she’s not alone.

  “Hey, sis,” Dana calls out, less than enthusiastically.

  I let out the slightest moan, not sure if they’ve heard,

  “Uh…hi, guys.” I stand to give mom a light hug and peck on the cheek. Dana reaches out next, but I stiffen up.

  I purposely asked mom several times if she was coming alone. After the falling out Dana and I had, I have no desire to see her, let alone share a meal with her. My mom watches our interaction carefully.

  “Fantastic! I knew this was a great idea. A girls lunch…just like we used to have.” She’s so damn proud of herself right now.

  I breathe deep, keeping my frustration in check before it makes a very public appearance. I smile tightly, before taking my seat and unfolding my napkin. The hostess hands us each a leather-bound mini-portfolio with the day’s specials listed. There’s an extra one in her hand and she places it in the middle of the table.

  “I’ll just leave this here for the last member of your party,” she smiles before attempting to leave.

  I clear my throat. “Ahem…you must be mistaken. This is all of us. We’re all here.”

  My eyes sweep over my family members sitting across the table from me to signify who I’m talking about.

  The college-aged hostess looks visibly confused. “I’m sorry. A gentleman called to add one more to your reservation.”

  My eyes dart directly to my mother, who looks equally perplexed. Reluctantly, I move my gaze to my younger sister, but she just shrugs her shoulders. The hostess starts to look uncomfortable.

  “Um…should I take the extra place setting away?” She looks to me for an answer.

  I honestly thought they had sat me at a table set for four due to availability, but now with my sister popping up and the hostess’s statement, I’m beginning to get nervous. I feel like I’ve been set up.

  “Hey, Sugar. Sorry I’m late.” I get whiplash as I turn to face the approaching voice.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  This is it. This is the moment I’ve been trying like hell to avoid. My mother and Clink, together, in the same room. And as a little bonus, why not throw Dana in the mix, right? As if I don’t have enough land-mines to dodge, let’s just keep piling them in.

  He looks different…cleaner somehow. His dark hair is a little shorter, freshly cut. Still long enough to run your fingers through, but neat. The five o’clock shadow that I know he spends more time trying to make look like he actually doesn’t spend time on it, is shaped up. A long-sleeve, baby blue button-down shirt with the white collar of his undershirt peeking through manages to hide all traces of his ink. Dark blue jeans and black dress shoes round out his look.

  Well, almost. An unadorned, soft, black, leather coat is like the cherry on top. No patches, no metal, just your regular run of the mill leather coat. I trail my eyes up and down again and again taking it all in. He looks unrecognizable and yet exactly the same.… How is that even possible?

  Mom and Dana have finished their own inspection and now shoot their gaze to me for explanation. I’m speechless and can offer none.

  Clink bends down to kiss me chastely on the lips. That’s a first. This man has never been able to resist molesting my mouth with his tongue. I’m shocked.

  “Uh…hi. I- I didn’t think you’d be able to make it…” I try to mask my surprise. Dana kicks me from under the table and I wince, “Ow!”

  Mom steps in as I recover from my assault.

  “Hello,” she extends her hand. “I’m Charlize’s mother. Mrs. Griffith. And…you are?”

  Clink flashes that drop-dead gorgeous smile of his, “Brian Abbott. The pleasure is mine.” He kisses my mom’s hand. I try to suppress my gag. “Charlize inherited her mother’s beauty.”

  That’s the first time I’ve heard him say my full name. Hell, it may even be the first time he’s heard it. My mom is eating this shit up with a spoon. Compliment the woman and she’s your new best friend.

  “Hi!” my baby sister half-stands to introduce herself. “I’m Dana. So…are you, like, dating my sister? Oh my God! Are you the doctor?”

  Holy fucking hell. She did not just say that. I watch Clink as he reacts to it.

  He laughs. “Darlin’, I’m a lot of things. But, to my parent’s disappointment, doctor isn’t one of them.”

  Compliment or not, mom is now deflating. She’s probably run away with her imagination by now and told the whole family that I’m dating a doctor. Clink hangs his coat up on post near our booth and takes a seat next to me as I slide in.

  “So, Brian, what is it that you do, if not medicine?”

  And so it begins. I take a large sip of my water while flagging down the nearby waitress, “Wine,” I instruct her, “Bring a bottle. Or three.”

  Clink covers my nervously tapping hand, putting an end to the clattering of my fingernails on the wood table. Dana immediately drops her eyes to our joined hands.

  “You are dating!” she exclaims.

  “I’m a businessman. I have ownership in a handful or so small businesses.” He makes sure not to elaborate on exactly what type of businesses those are, not sure mom would appreciate the earning potential for a strip club, a pawn shop, bike shop, and the other fine establishments Clink has claim to through the club.

  Her eyes light up. “I see! Well, Charlie must have told you about her father, then? He was one of the most successful business owners in Dayton County. He owned eight dry cleaning businesses. He worked himself hard every single day to see that his girls never went without.”

  Mom smiles at both her daughters.

  Clink sits back to allow the waitress to set wine glasses in front of each of us.

  “Sounds like my kind of man. I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about.”
/>
  Mom looks as though she’s been slapped. Dana just stares at me as mom speak.

  “He- he passed on last year. Has- hasn’t Charlie told you?”

  Clink’s hand turns to stone in mine. I shut my eyes tight.

  “It’s not something I really like to talk about, mom. Can we please change the topic?”

  Mom clears her throat. “You’ll have to excuse my daughter. She was very close to her father.”

  Clink’s hand comes to life, squeezing mine reassuringly, although he doesn’t move to look at me.

  “So it’s just you ladies now?” He pours us each a glass of wine while mom prepares her answer.

  “Just Dana and me, left at home…since Charlie moved here to take her new job. I was hoping she’d move back home eventually, but it seems she’s setting down roots in Oakton,” she thinly veils her accusation of Clink being a possible cause for that.

  “Mom,” I sternly beg her to stop her passive/aggressiveness. She holds her hands up as she feigns innocence.

  Dana jumps in to relieve her. “So, Brian…how did you two meet?”

  Clink takes a deep breath, “Charlie’s car needed some work, so she brought it into one of my shops. We struck up a conversation and the rest…”

  “Is none of your business,” I finish his unanswered sentence, although I’m sure he had a different choice in words.

  He finally looks to me and raises his eyebrow. I finish my wine as our guests place their lunch order with the waiter. When it’s my turn, I ask for a miso soup and salad with ginger dressing. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. Clink orders a teriyaki glazed steak.

  I’m busy pouring my second glass of wine when Dana catches my eyes and poorly shields her mouth from the other two, mouthing “He’s hot!”

  I chug the wine. Great, my spoiled brat of a sister has a crush on my man. Fantastic. Maybe when he kicks my ass to the curb after everything comes out, she can give him a call. They can go get some coffee. It’ll be fucking great. My overly sarcastic booze bitchiness is seeping in.