by Lilly Atlas
“We had a typical low income, shitty without being traumatizing upbringing. Mom died young; dad didn’t give a rat’s ass about much more than hitting the slots and poker tables. That left me plenty of unsupervised time to get into trouble.”
“We?” she asked.
He played with the long strands of her hair, running his fingers from her scalp to the ends repeatedly. God, she loved how he was always touching her. It seemed so much more significant than just physical touching, like he couldn’t stand a break in their connection. Whether that was in her mind or not remained to be seen, but the thought thrilled her.
“Yeah. I had a sister. Melissa. I called her Missy. She was five years younger.” His voice grew sad as he spoke her name. “She called me Ty. My real name’s Tyler.”
Had? Called? Was? All past tense. Had something happened to Missy? Kori was dying to ask but assumed he’d get to that part of the story soon enough. No need to rush it. “I like it. It’s a good name.”
“Thanks.” He smoothed a thumb across her lips and she snuck her tongue out for a taste. A smile curved his lips and she felt victorious. To be able to make him smile when recalling obviously painful memories was priceless.
“Anyway, I was always a little shit and fell in with a pretty rough crowd during my late teen years. Grand theft auto was our specialty. We’d jack cars for a local chop shop. They threw us a decent cut. For a kid with no money, I thought I was living the high life. I quit busing tables for Rosita and spent all my free time with a bunch of low-life car thieves.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Am I scaring you off yet?”
Because of a sordid past? That she could handle. The present was far more important. “No. From what I’ve seen of the No Prisoners so far, the club I knew back in FL was involved in much worse stuff than yours is here. Not too much shocks me anymore.”
His face clouded for a minute. What was that about? What the hell was going on with the club? She needed to pay better attention when she was at the clubhouse. Maybe she could pick up on something without Lucky having to break any club code of silence.
“Huh, well I got cocky and tried to steal some off-the-chain Ferrari. Got popped and landed my ass in lock up. Unfortunately, I’d turned eighteen three days prior.” He shrugged. “You know the story. Judge gave me a choice. Enlist in the service or prison. Easy choice. So I joined up.”
“You were in the Army?” Wow. Her respect for him tripled. She held those who served in the highest regard.
“Marine Corp. Four years as a sniper.”
“Holy shit.”
He chuckled, the vibrations jostling her on his chest. “You ain’t kidding. About killed me in the beginning. To go from drinking, smoking, lazing around to boot camp was quite the shocker. I had my ass handed to me a million times before I started to get with the program. Once I got on board, my competitive side kicked in and I wanted to be the best. That’s where sniper school came in.”
She smiled, imagining a young, stubborn-as-hell Lucky being reamed by a drill sergeant. “How does this lead to the club?”
He resumed playing with her hair and she almost purred like a spoiled cat. “I’m getting there. I’ll skip the grisly details, but after I left home, Missy spiraled out of control. Sex, drugs, you name it, she did it. Anyway, I was twenty-two and in Afghanistan when I learned she overdosed and was in a coma. Getting sent home from deployment is nearly impossible and by the time I got here—” Bone deep remorse filled his voice and she almost told him to stop. She could guess the rest, no need to relive it. But he seemed lost in the story now.
Her heart cracked and bled for the younger Lucky. What was coming was pretty obvious, but she waited for his next words to confirm her fears.
Was there a link between his past and his present? Did this sad story have anything to do with Lucky’s issues with the club now?
Dredging up memories of Missy all these years later hurt like fresh pain. Kori had opened up to him. Shared fears, past hurts. He owed her the same. Amazingly, he wanted to tell her. Wanted her to know what made him who he was today. Good and bad. “By the time I got here, she’d died.”
“God, Lucky, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you.” She dropped a kiss on his chest. Her willingness to listen without judgment and her comforting touch were the only things that kept him going with the story. Very few people had heard it. Voicing it was just too damn painful.
And then there were the months after her death. God, he’d been a fucking mess. “Yeah, the time that followed wasn’t the best of my life.” Understatement of the century. “I left the Marines and went off the rails a bit. After I dealt with the asshole who’d been pimping her out and supplying her with drugs, I had nothing left to fill my days. So, I traveled around on my Harley looking for a purpose. When I was at a bar in a tiny town in Arizona, I met a few guys from the No Prisoners chapter down there.”
He’d befriended Acer, a contradiction of biker and rich kid, on sight. Acer had introduced him around to some other MC members, and that weekend had been the one thing to end his slippery slope into a severe depression and self-destruction. God knows where he’d be right now if he’d never met those guys. Actually, he had a pretty good idea he’d be six feet under.
“You want to stop?” Her soft voice pulled him back to the moment. The silken strands of her hair slid through his fingers like a platinum waterfall. So beautiful.
“No, sorry, just got lost in my head. I spent a week with those guys and was hooked. Their sense of brotherhood, family, loyalty was just what I was looking for. I had all those things in the Marines and had missed them. Anyway, I came home and prospected. Rest is history.”
A frown marred her pretty face. “If you hit it off so well with the Arizona guys, why didn’t you stay down there?”
Fuck, he sure as hell wished he had now. He wouldn’t be in this fucking mess with Rebel. Though he also wouldn’t have met Kori. “This is home. This is where my sister is buried. And my mom was alive until a little over two years ago. Sometimes I think about patching over to their chapter.”
Shit, he hadn’t meant to let that slip. It wasn’t a sometimes thought anymore. It was pretty much a daily thought for the past five weeks. And something that would have to be acted on soon. What a shitty time to be entering his first—and if he had his way, only—serious relationship.
“Hmm.” Kori sat up, her legs straddling his torso and rubbed her hands along his chest. “Just so you know, for future reference, I’m not married to this area. I’m not dropping hints or telling you how to live your life. Just something to file away for…whenever.”
Christ, she was amazing. So giving. Basically, she was telling him she’d be willing to move with him if he deemed it best. “But your father is here.”
With a smile, she walked her fingers up his chest, stopping at his neck then leaned forward. His hands cupped her ass and pulled her close, grinding her clit into his stomach. Arousal sparked between them as need for her flared strong, as though he hadn’t had her and come so hard he nearly passed out less than a half hour ago.
“Mmm,” she moaned, reaching for a condom on the nightstand. “I know he’s here. We’re learning each other, forming a sort of bond. If I’m fully honest, I don’t see us having a super close relationship. Just a feeling.” As she spoke, she wiggled her way down his body until she was positioned over his erection. “I’m just saying I don’t need to live so close to him to be happy. Arizona’s not far, anyway.”
Their gazes met and she fisted him in her hand. With heat in her gaze, she rolled the latex over his oversensitive flesh. When she lowered herself, encasing him in the searing wet heat of her pussy, the room blurred. “Good to know,” he ground out.
Damn, she looked magnificent astride his hips with her tits swaying and hair flowing around her shoulders. Her smile was radiant as she rocked against him, the illusion of control making her bold. In reality, he could take over whenever he damn well pleased
, but he let her have this because she loved riding his cock as much as he loved watching it.
This…happiness he found with Kori could be his. For the rest of his life if he played his cards right. Just one obstacle stood in their way.
Unfortunately, it was an obstacle the size of a fucking mountain and had the power to wreak more havoc that just ending their relationship.
Chapter Nineteen
A grating jangle cut through her normally slow, luxurious wakeup period and jerked Kori to consciousness in an instant. “Argh, who the hell is calling me at—” She snatched the offending phone off Lucky’s bedside nightstand. “Holy crap! I slept until ten thirty in the morning. Oh, it’s Rebel.” Was Lucky even awake to hear her irritated ramblings?
Lucky’s body tensed around her at the mention of Rebel’s name. Yep, wide awake. His reaction to his president was getting a bit ridiculous, really. Now he couldn’t even stand to hear the man’s name? Maybe, when she told Rebel she and Lucky were shackin’ up, she’d feel her father out, see if there was a reason for the tension beyond his deluded idea that she should be with creepy Savage.
“Hey, Rebel.”
“Morning, baby girl.” His ever-gravelly voice filled her ear. “Wondering if you wanted to do lunch today.”
Silence settled between them for a moment while she chose her words. Most of the time, a lunch invitation was a ploy to shove Savage down her throat and that would only incite Lucky who’d snuggled her against his hard, sleep-warmed body.
“Just the two of us.” Rebel must have guessed the reason for her hesitation.
Well in that case. “Sure, I’d love to.”
“Great. Meet me at the clubhouse in an hour, baby girl. Good?”
“Good, Rebel. See you in a bit.” Calling him Dad still didn’t sit well. Why was that? Her automatic answer was that she hadn’t known him long enough, but hell, she’d known Lucky just as long and was ready to move in with him. No, it was a gut feeling. The name just didn’t feel right. Nothing she could put her finger on. Maybe it had something to do with the tension between him and Lucky.
She dropped the phone on the mattress and rolled over to wish a frowning Lucky good morning. “Hey, handsome. What is on your agenda for the day?” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her breasts to his chest. There was one sure way to distract him from whatever displeasure he was experiencing over her spending time with her father.
He kissed her and rolled her to her back, settling in the nook of her thighs. “I got a text about ten minutes ago about some destruction at a bar we own. Big bar fight last night or some bullshit like that. I need to check out the damage, deal with insurance, decide if we can remain open, yadda yadda.”
“Sounds like a fun day.” While he spoke, she ran her hands up and down the muscular ridges of his back. They bunched and flexed under her fingertips as his breathing increased. He was so strong, so powerful, so capable, and holding all that power in her arms, knowing she could bring this man to his knees, was as arousing as his body itself. Not in a sadistic, wanting-to-humiliate kind of way, but in an empowering, feminine, sexy kind of way.
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be a blast.” He kissed her again, lingering this time, and her body flared to life. How he managed to arouse her to the point of begging every single time was beyond her. “At least I can start the day off on the right foot.”
She smiled and bent her knees, bringing him in closer contact with the throbbing ache only he could satisfy. “Better get crackin’ then. Time’s a wastin’ and I don’t even have a whole hour.”
“Please, woman, I’ll have you coming around some part of my body in less than five minutes.” He nipped her jawline with his teeth, eliciting a shudder from her.
“Yeah,” she said, breathless as his small bites moved down her neck. “But you’ve spoiled me. I’m no longer satisfied with one.”
Her mind muddled as he chuckled and ran his tongue along her collarbone.
Two orgasms, one shower, and sixty-three minutes later, Kori steered her car into the clubhouse parking lot. It was fairly deserted, but one member was changing a tire on a bike.
“Hey, Kori,” the long-haired biker said as she ambled toward the door.
“Hey…” What was his name? What was his name? “Um…”
“Bull,” he said.
“Right, Bull, sorry. I’m still working everyone’s name out. Bull like the big angry cow?”
He chuckled. “Bull as in pit bull. My bite’s worse than my bark.”
That explained the tattoo on his massive bicep. A pit bull with a spiked collar, holding some sort of limp animal between its bared teeth. A rabbit, maybe? “Right. I’ll be sure to keep my hand away from your mouth then, huh?”
This time his laugh was loud and boisterous. “I get what Lucky sees in you, Kori. If you’re looking for your father, he’s out back. There’s a shed out there. I think Savage is with him.”
Ugh. So much for just the two of them. “A shed?”
Bull shrugged, his attention on a lug nut as he tightened it. “God only knows why they’re out there. Didn’t realize that old thing was actually in use. Been here three years and it’s always been locked up tight. I ain’t ever seen anybody go out there until today.”
Unease slithered through her gut. Knowing what she knew about outlaw MCs and their business dealings, there was a good chance she didn’t want to learn what was in that shed. Plausible deniability and all that jazz. “Oh, maybe I should wait until they come back out here.”
With a grunt of effort, he tightened the last nut and stood, wiping grease-stained hands on his faded jeans. “Nah, babe. Rebel told me to send ya back when I saw ya.”
“Okay then. Guess I’m going out to the shed. Thanks, Bull. I’ll remember your name from now on.”
“No prob, babe. Catch ya later.” He hiked the old tire over his shoulder and whistled as he walked it over to the bed of an old rusted pickup truck.
Sure enough, behind the clubhouse was a large shed with the door shut. Ugh, this was straight out of a movie. Mysterious shed no one thought was in use. Full of what? Trafficked humans? A dead body? Kori shivered as the unease grew into a full out screaming in her head.
Don’t knock! Turn around!
She rolled her eyes and straightened her back. Time to stop reading psychological thrillers and maybe find a lighter genre. Paranoia was jumping off the pages and into her mind. “Don’t be a drama queen,” she whispered as she raised a fist and rapped on the wooden door.
“That you, Kori?” Rebel’s ruined voice came from beyond the door.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“You alone?”
And, that mattered because? The edgy feeling was back, this time complete with a stomach rolling like waves in a violent storm. “Ah, yes. No one else is with me.”
The door swung open and Rebel called out. “Come on in.”
It took a minute to unweight the legs that seemed to be welded to the ground, but she managed the three steps over the threshold and into the substantial shed.
Three steps. Three measly advances of her legs. Maybe four seconds, maximum, and her world flip-flopped so violently she couldn’t tell up from down. If Alice felt one tenth of the fear, confusion, and shock after tumbling down that blasted rabbit hole, then Kori’s heart went out to the girl.
She stood frozen like a statue, except for her eyes which darted in every direction possible trying to make sense of the scene before her. Seated in a chair only ten feet in front of her was a man whose face was so battered and bruised, she’d never be able to identify him if asked.
The first thing she registered, and that gave her a small measure of relief, was that there was no way the man could be Lucky. He was too thin, gaunt almost, with greasy hair and obvious track marks on his arms. Her rational brain reminded her she’d only left Lucky twenty minutes before, but this fucked up scene shot rational thinking to hell.
The man’s swollen eyes were shut. Whether voluntarily or
because of the massive edema was a difficult call. Actually, the only indications that Savage hadn’t killed him was a wheezing that accompanied the shallow rise and fall of his thin chest. That, and the occasional tremor that racked his frail body.
Savage stood next to the victim, his knuckles bruised and bloodied. He’d obviously been the one to issue the brutal punishment for whatever sins this man had committed against the No Prisoners. Savage was calm, hadn’t broken a sweat and looked unfazed by the violence he’d just perpetrated. In fact, if it wasn’t for some poor soul’s blood dripping from his still-clenched fists, he’d look like a man ready for that lunch she’d been led to believe was the reason for her presence.
Why the hell did they want her as a witness to this insanity?
There wasn’t a single reassuring answer to that question.
A low hum started in her ears and the room swam before her. Breaths came in rapid, choppy bursts. Kori bent at her waist, resting her hands on her knees and tried to tamp down the hyperventilation before she passed out.
After her breathing evened, she rose to her full height, but averted her gaze from the beaten man. Unfortunately, her attention landed on stacks and stacks of packaged white powder.
Drugs.
Pounds and pounds of drugs.
Jesus, there had to be hundreds of thousands of dollars of illicit drugs in this shed. Was Lucky privy to this? There was no way in hell he condoned this or participated in it. Not after what he told her about the death of his younger sister.
Kori finally noticed Rebel standing against the right wall of the shed, his arms crossed against his chest. When their gazes met, the light bulb went off and everything became clear as the waters of the Caribbean.
Lucky knew.
And Lucky was against it.
