Highest Sins: Mountain Misfits MC Book 2

by Deja Voss

  Nobody likes to call things what they are around here.

  Brooks is the last to show, and the way he slams the door behind him makes me cringe. He shoots me a friendly smile as he takes his seat across the table from me, our sergeant at arms, and I just smile back. We haven’t talked since the other night. What would we even say, though?

  My brother Gavin, Misfits vice president, sits on the other side of my father. The other side of the long oak table holds Clutch, our treasurer, Heat, our chaplain, Tank and Red, our rough-and-tumble enforcers, Forrest, our road captain, and Austin, our secretary. Missing from the table is my little brother, Goob. The guys elected him tail-gunner out of pity and a need to give him a feeling of importance, but since he’s gotten clean, he’s been off traveling the country and finding himself. I miss the guy, but I know how tempting it is to run away from this life and never come back. He’ll randomly call me and tell me about his adventures, and I do love hearing from him. That empty chair makes me both sad and happy.

  My father clears his throat, or at least attempts to before falling into a coughing spell.

  “You gonna be alright, pops?” Gavin asks. “You want me to start the meeting while you light up another oxygen stick?”

  He shoots Gavin his death glare. Gavin is pretty good at getting under his skin, especially during club meetings. It’s a good thing we all have to leave our weapons at the door before we come into this room, because I’m sure one day he’s gonna push just that right button.

  “Alright, gentlemen,” he begins. I just sink down in my chair. Dad and I have already discussed the plan. Tank and Red and I are going to go to Pittsburgh and meet with Salazar. We booked two hotel rooms and we’re going to stay down there as long as it takes for me to secure seventy weapons on credit.

  It’s risky, it’s dumb, and he’s not going to be happy about it, but I know I can make it happen. I know exactly what I need to do.

  As my father explains the situation, I try to keep my eyes off of Brooks. I sip my beer, stare at the wall, look at my dad, look down at the floor. Being in the same room as him is making me nervous, nauseous, especially because the current discussion at hand is about the man I’m going to be sleeping with this weekend.

  I’m not really paying attention, not really here. I know everything I need to know. I should’ve just stayed home and packed.

  “I’m taking her,” I hear Brooks say. “I got business down there this weekend.”

  I swing my leg under the table, looking for his shin. I don’t know what the hell he’s got up his sleeve, but he’s not going with me.

  “Tank and Red always take me,” I say. “I want them to come. They know the drill.”

  “They’re busy,” Gavin says. “Fight night at the Bucktail on Saturday. I need them to bounce.”

  “We can go Sunday then. I have a routine. I need things a certain way,” I plead. By certain way, I mean Brooks nowhere near me. Not when I’m doing this.

  It hurts me physically. He’s doing exactly what I feared, showing me that all we had was a fling and club business comes first. Showing me how little he cares about me or us or our relationship. This is a complete power move.

  I hate him right now.

  I grab a cigarette from my father’s pack and light it up. I stand up from the table.

  “I don’t know why you’re making such a big fucking deal out of this,” Gavin grumbles.

  I feel the rage coursing through my veins.

  “That’s because you don’t do what I do. Maybe you and your best buddy can go without me. You can practice sucking dick on each other on the ride over.”

  Nobody says a word, all eyes on me. Gavin catches my wrist in his hand as I try to walk past him, squeezing it. For a second, I see a flash of my father in his eyes, the way he’s almost sneering at me, his face dark, commanding.

  “Do you really want to do this here?” he asks, his voice low.

  I’m fighting back tears, and my dad just smiles, as if he’s proud of the way his son is manhandling me. I can’t let them see me weak.

  “Brooks is taking you, I’ll be down with the van on Sunday to pick up the guns. You’re more than welcome to sit in on the rest of the meeting, but everything else doesn’t really apply to you, woman.”

  I feel like I’m in some sort of fucked-up nightmare. Gavin never talks to me like that.

  “Gavin!” Heat shouts. “Take your hands off the girl and watch your fucking tone.”

  The men around me look so agitated. My crew. My clan. They look like they’re going to jump across the table and strangle my brother.

  Everyone except Brooks.

  He’s looking at his watch, staring at the wall, acting like he’s bored or something.

  Everyone except my father.

  He’s laughing, as if this is some sort of silly sibling rivalry playing out in front of him.

  Gavin drops my arm dramatically, holding his hands up in the air.

  “Sit your ass down, Esther,” Heat says. “You belong at this table as much as anyone else here does and if anybody objects to that, they can take it up with my fist later.”

  I swear Gavin winks at me.

  I don’t know what he’s up to, but I don’t read into it.

  I will sit here for the rest of this meeting, but I will only be here in body.

  In my mind, I’m going to be thinking of every possible way to make this the worst weekend of Brooks’s life.

  19

  Esther:

  I think I have everything I need for the weekend shoved into my little duffle bag on the back of my bike. Whatever, if I don’t have it, I can buy it when I get to the city. This would be so much more convenient if we were just taking the truck or something, but the thought of riding with Brooks for four hours is making my stomach turn, and I don’t even want to begin to think about what the ride home would be like.

  I don’t plan on staying long. I’ll probably just go to sleep in my hotel room as soon as we get there, wake up, do my thing, and head back. He can hang out in the city as long as he wants. Do whatever it is he has to do down there. I only have one objective, and that’s get what the club needs and get myself gone.

  I pull up to the clubhouse and park my bike. I light up a cigarette, a habit that I’m not too thrilled about picking back up again over the last few days, and suck down on it while I pace the parking lot. Between him and Salazar my lungs are not happy with me. This asshole needs to hurry up before I leave without him.

  Morgan swings open the door of the clubhouse, her curly blonde hair looking more perfect than usual, her face painted on a little more dramatic than the norm. She’s wearing a leather halter top that leaves nothing to the imagination, and her jeans sit so low on her hips I think I can see her vagina.

  “Hey, Morgan,” I say, only out of politeness.

  “Ooh,” she squeals. “Can I bum one of those?”

  “Whatever.” I shrug, handing her the pack. She fishes out a cigarette with her long red fingernails and lights it up. “Brooks should be here any minute,” she says. “I just got off the phone with him. He’s running a little late.”

  “Ok,” I say, not really thinking too much of it. Morgan’s got her hands all over every guy on this mountain. I wouldn’t be surprised if she called each one of them every morning to see if they’re finally gonna let her go for a ride on their bikes. I hear the rumble of Brooks’s Harley coming from the other side of the hill.

  “We’re gonna have so much fun this weekend,” she giggles.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” accidentally slips out of my mouth. He’s bringing a date? Is he trying to go the extra mile to piss me off? I jump up and put my helmet back on and straddle my off-white Road King with black roses painted on the tank. At least I’ll get to spend a little time with her between my legs this weekend. I’ll get to experience a little bit of freedom driving through the hills of Pennsylvania, slicing through the stiff summer air as I get as close to flying as I can without leaving the ground
.

  He pulls his bike up next to mine, but I just ignore him. I have my GPS set on my phone, even though I could probably do this ride by memory; better safe than sorry.

  “HEY,” he shouts. I don’t even look over. I try to find something I want to listen to on the ride. Something I can listen to over and over again and just kind of tune out, but will still put me in the mood I need to be in this weekend. Sometimes I’m a Cardi B girl, sometimes I’m an Eric Church girl, today I’m a Pantera girl. “ESTHER!” he yells.

  Seeing her on the back of his bike, her slimy tentacle arms wrapped around his body while she sneers at me through the visor of her helmet like she’s getting one over on me is enough to make me want to puke. Our clan always rides together, but today I’m flying solo.

  I peel out of the parking lot and set out on my lonely journey across the state. Just me and my bike Veronica. Fuck the two of them. Actually, just fuck him, I think. She’s too dumb to know any better.

  He knows exactly what he’s doing.

  About two hours into my drive, I stop at a gas station to pee, fill up my tank, and grab a snack.

  I check my phone while I’m pumping my gas.

  Just Trust Me it says. From Brooks. I have nothing to say back. Nothing makes sense right now.

  I’ve always trusted him, and he’s never let me down, I remind myself.

  That was before you slept with him, my inner voice also says.

  Where ru? Another text comes through.

  I’ll meet you at the hotel. Reservation is under Salazar, I reply.

  Hopefully, I’ll be there, unpacked, showered and asleep, before those two morons check in. Maybe if I’m lucky I can get the receptionist to downgrade their room to one on a different floor than mine. I finish up my beef jerky and Diet Coke and toss my trash before getting back on the highway.

  20

  Brooks:

  I know she’s probably in one hell of a horn tossing mood right now. I kinda sprung this whole situation on her without so much as a simple explanation. The fact that Morgan’s hanging all over me, and I’m doing my best trying not to act repulsed about it, is just one more layer of fucked-up-ness to this whole scene.

  Everything is going exactly as planned.

  Everything down to the dramatics at the meeting, icing her out, pissing her off. Sometimes you have to hurt the ones you love in order to help them. I know she’s going to probably hurt the hell out of me if I don’t clear things up quick.

  I dump Morgan in the hotel room and tell her to stay put until I get back. I walk down the hall to the room where Esther is staying and pound on the door. I can hear the TV through the thin walls, but other than that, nothing.

  “Esther!” I yell, loud enough to scare the woman standing in the hallway talking on her cellphone. She ducks inside her room and I hear the door slam behind her. “Open this door right this second or I’m gonna open it for you.”

  “What gives you the right?” she screams, throwing the door open. She’s standing there in nothing but a big fluffy white towel, her long red hair dripping wet all over the carpet. “To pound on my door and start yelling at me? Go the hell back to your date, or whatever you want to call her.”

  She goes to swing the door shut but I catch it in my hand, prying it back open, looming over her. Seeing her pissed off and soaking wet, I struggle to keep my dick under control. It’s like the perfect combination of scary and sexy, and she wears it better than anyone I can imagine.

  “Got your attention?” I ask, letting myself inside, slowly closing the door behind me and locking the deadbolt. “Or do you want to pretend like you’re ignoring me still.”

  “I’m not pretending,” she quips. “I AM ignoring you. You do what you gotta do, Brooks. I’ll be in the bathroom.”

  She’ll come around in a minute. I know I’ve given her more questions than answers, and I know she’s not just gonna let this drop. She slinks off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I hear the whoosh of the hairdryer, and I sprawl out on the queen-sized bed with a groan, my boots hanging off the edge. My back is stiff from riding all day.

  “Why are you still here?” she shouts, peeking out of the bathroom door before slamming it shut again. I’m not going anywhere. Not until she hears me out.

  I go to the bathroom door and knock softly on it.

  “Esther, I’m gonna order room service. You want anything?”

  “I want you to go away,” she says, through the crack in the door. “And I want a cheeseburger and fries. Can you make sure they bring ketchup? I need it or I’ll die. And a Diet Coke.”

  I can’t help but chuckle as she slams the door tight again. At least she’s speaking to me, even though it’s like a cashier at a fast food restaurant. I earned this. I know I did. But when she finds out what I did, I know everything will be ok.

  I call downstairs for room service. Everything is on Salazar’s tab, and I make sure I take full advantage of that, just like he thinks he’s going to take advantage of her. I don’t even particularly like lobster tails, and I sure as hell don’t care for the weird local IPAs with shit floating in them stocked in the mini fridge, but fuck it.

  She finally makes her way out of the bathroom, her body swimming in the giant white robe.

  “Come here,” I say, motioning to the bed. “Sit down so I can talk to you.”

  She’s resistant and sits in the chair on the other side of the room. She grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels on the TV, not even looking at me.

  I sigh. I clear my throat. I’m not good at silence, and I’m definitely not good at personal space, especially when it comes to her.

  “You gotta hear me out, Esther.” I grab the remote from her hand and turn off the TV.

  “Listen, Brooks. I have to work tomorrow. I just want to eat some food, watch some movies about people getting their faces ripped off by zombies, and pass out. I don’t want to listen to whatever weird story you want to tell me about why you brought a date with you so you can babysit me while I fuck some guy for guns tomorrow. Maybe it’ll make you feel better about your choices, but I’m not going to give you that luxury. So either shut up or go back to whatever you were doing with Morgan.”

  “Oh trust me, she’s not waking up for a long time,” I say. She looks at me with shock and disgust.

  “Did you drug her?”

  “She drugged herself. I just dangled the carrot in front of her face. I can’t help if the woman can’t say no to a handful of random pills.”

  “Jesus Christ, Brooks,” she sighs. “So she’s passed out. So now you’re gonna harass me? Do you have any more of those random pills?”

  “I’m getting you out,” I blurt out. “Well, Gavin and I are getting you out. We’re doing what we should’ve done years ago.”

  “So you brought Morgan to replace me. You really think it’s that simple? You really think I haven’t thought of doing something like this a million times?”

  “Yes,” I say. “I’m sure you have. But you never had anyone to help you. You never had our support. And it is that simple. A hole is a hole, isn’t it?”

  “Get the fuck out of my room,” she says, her voice deep and low, her hands trembling. She stands up from her chair and pushes my chest.

  “What?” I shrug.

  “It’s not about a hole is a hole. It’s not about the sex, Brooks. That’s incredibly insulting, and the fact that you even think that makes me sick.” She’s on the verge of tears.

  I wrap my arms around her and hug her to my chest. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know that you do a lot more for the club than just spread your legs and make it rain money. I know that you have gotten us out of a financial pinch more than once, that you’ve used your talents to help us make alliances and connections. But it doesn’t have to be that way. These men don’t deserve to have you. They don’t deserve to hurt you. And they’re not doing it anymore.”

  “You don’t understand,” she cries into my chest. “It’s my
destiny. If you take away my usefulness to the club, then you take away who I am.”

  “That’s not how this is going to work, Esther. You will always be the most important woman to the club. You’ll always have a place.” I kiss the top of her head and just let her cry in my arms. Her dad has her so warped, so broken, that she thinks she’s nothing more than a piece of meat we can dangle in front of men to get them to do whatever we want.

  She doesn’t realize how smart she is. How kind she is. How creative and clever and good at doing business she is. I don’t know how to make her see it, but I’m going to figure it out.

  “We have muscle, Esther. We have finances. We have connections. We have dirty birds flapping their wings around the clubhouse who would be more than happy to take on a little side hustle. And we have the toughest and most diplomatic lady I ever met sitting at our table. It’s time to start changing things. You think your grandfather wanted to see you like this?”

  “No, he wouldn’t,” she says, pulling away from me. “But my grandmother taught me better than to throw another woman under the bus for your own gain. My grandmother taught me to uplift other women and stick together. I’d never wish my life on any other girl, even if they didn’t know any better.”

  I can’t imagine living a day in her mind.

  The burdens she carries.

  The weight of the entire club on her shoulders. She looks so small standing there in front of me, and all I want to do is scoop her up in my arms and tell her everything is going to be ok. Instead, I press my lips to hers, kissing her the way that I’ve been craving all these years. Kissing away her worries.

  “It’s going to be ok,” I tell her. “These are not your sins. These are not your problems. These are all of our problems, and we’re going to solve them. I promise.”