GET LUCKY: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK NINE)

by Honey Palomino

  I stared down at it, willing it to wither before my eyes, but instead it just looked back at up me, staring back with it’s one little eye, accusing me of neglect.

  “Fuck you,” I muttered, shaking my head.

  I turned on the shower, full blast, cold-as-ice. Suppressing a scream as the frigid water hit my skin, I manned up and turned my dick to the cold stream and braced myself for the demise of my beloved nemesis.

  It died in silent submission under the icy assault, and I sighed in relief.

  Now, I could go on with my day.

  Now, I could be professional and not plagued with horniness like a twelve year old boy. I finished showering, quickly got dressed and made my way out to the common area.

  Blade was sitting in the same spot, with a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Lucky was rifling through the tiny refrigerator, bent over with her ass pointing directly at me. She turned and looked over her shoulder, her ass offered up like a damned breakfast buffet that was begging me to dig in.

  “Morning,” she beamed.

  I grabbed the blueprints, mumbled something about being in my bunk, and turned around without a word, shaking my head and walking back to take another cold shower.

  CHAPTER 25

  NICHOLAI

  Downing my tenth cup of espresso, I followed the caravan of tour buses as they made their way down the freeway. More than halfway to Los Angeles, the drive was long and arduous, but I was hanging in there. My body desperately wanted me to stop and rest, but I couldn’t risk letting them get too far ahead of me.

  I adjusted the wig I was wearing — a long, blonde wavy thing that, along with the big glasses and the makeup I was wearing transformed me into a beautiful, young woman.

  Everything was going well.

  Sure, I’d hoped Lucky would have stuck with firing the stupid group of impossibly dumb and incompetent bikers she’d hooked up with, but part of me enjoyed having them available to play with. It was almost too easy, though. They were as gullible as a litter of kittens, and I do wish they’d make things a little more challenging.

  Maybe, now, after the warning shot I’d fired when I’d dropped off the donuts, they’d step up and do a better job. While I enjoyed playing with them, part of me couldn’t believe how they’d so easily put Lucky in danger. I could have been anyone! I could have left a bomb or something a lot more dangerous than a bouquet of flowers.

  The flower thing?

  I couldn’t help but believe it was the perfect calling card. After many arguments, Lucky had forced me to spend thousands of dollars on premium red roses for our wedding and then left me standing amongst them in front of hundreds of people — the fragrance alone was something that would never leave me, a constant reminder of the humiliation she’d heaped upon me.

  Now, those fucking roses could torture her, too.

  It was only fucking fair.

  I smiled again, smirking at the memory of breaking up that little scene between her and her little Fabio last night. I’d seen them about to kiss on the video feed that went right to my phone mounted on my dash. I’d sped up and slammed on my brakes just enough to cause the driver to swerve.

  I laughed to myself now, loving the fact that I’d been able to insert the tiny cameras all over the bus. Hell, I even had one in her phone. Every time she turned it on, it fed me sound and video of everything she was doing.

  It was almost addicting.

  If it wasn’t for that stupid biker with the perpetual hard-on, I’d be able to enjoy it more. But he won’t be around for too long.

  I’ve got plans.

  Wonderful, fantastic, dramatic plans that I can’t wait to execute.

  If it gets a little bloody, so be it.

  CHAPTER 26

  LUCKY

  We stopped at a truck stop, just outside of Sacramento.

  With seventeen bikers, Becky, a few drivers, the crew and myself, we formed a circus of entertainment for the truckers and other customers. Some of the guys stretched their legs outside, smoking and huddling up in a circle to chat. Others strolled around the store, stocking up on candy bars and beef jerky and whatever else huge hunky guys used for fuel. Outside of Ryder, Riot and Ziggy, the others were keeping their distance, offering not much more than a polite nod or smile.

  Ziggy followed me around like a puppy dog at my heels.

  “I love truck stop coffee,” I said, watching as a thick, dark stream of the stuff poured into a styrofoam cup. “It’s like speed.”

  Ziggy smiled at me briefly, then went back to scanning the store like a dutiful bodyguard. Grabbing my coffee, I walked up and down the aisles, filling my arms with snacks until I couldn’t carry any more.

  “Here,” I said, shoving them towards Ziggy. His hands and arms were so much bigger than mine, therefore able to hold a lot more. He took them with a disgruntled smile.

  “It’s only gentlemanly,” I said, winking at him.

  “I’d rather keep my hands free for combat,” he said.

  “Combat?” I burst out laughing, despite the fact that I knew he was dead serious.

  “I told you I don’t intend on making any more mistakes.”

  “Right,” I nodded. I grabbed a nearby hand basket and began taking the items from him and placing them in the basket.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Of course,” I said, shoving the basket into his hands now and turning away.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To the ladies room,” I said, laughing over my shoulder. “Go pay for that stuff. I’ll be right out.”

  “Lucky, I’m not leaving you alone,” he said.

  I stopped and turned around to face him.

  “You’re going to come in the bathroom with me?”

  “Well, no!” he replied.

  “Then unless you want to call for a clean-up on aisle three, I’m going to the ladies room.” I turned away and started walking again.

  “I’ll stand outside,” he said, shuffling behind me. I rolled my eyes, but kept going. When I reached the door of the ladies room, he stopped behind me.

  “I’ll be a few minutes,” I said. “Don’t come in unless I scream.”

  “Right,” he nodded. “I’ll be right here.”

  I walked in and couldn’t help but smile. He was so fucking adorably earnest that it only made me like him more.

  The door opened and a blonde woman walked in, flashing me a movie-star smile. She walked up to the mirror beside me and pulled out a tube of bubblegum pink lipstick. Pursing her lips she smeared it on her bottom lip, then her top, looking over at me afterwards and smiling again.

  “Did you see those guys? With the leather?”

  I nodded.

  “The one right outside the door? Holy shit, I’d like to take a ride on his bike, if you know what I mean.”

  I laughed and nodded, “I know what you mean.”

  She laughed and turned to me, cocking her head to the side.

  “You look familiar,” she said. “Are you famous or something?”

  “Nope,” I replied, shaking my head, “not really.”

  I didn’t have any makeup on and my hair was up in a messy bun, and sometimes in the right light, I looked like a completely different person than my stage persona.

  “Well, if you get a chance to jump on that big boy’s bike, you should take it,” she winked.

  I nodded, again, remembering what it felt like to ride Ziggy’s bike. Literally and figuratively. A blush crept up my cheeks as the woman walked back to the door. She turned back to me, flashing me that million-dollar smile again.

  “Life is short, you know? You gotta take all the opportunities you can get.”

  “That’s true,” I agreed.

  “Have a good day,” she said, blowing me a quick kiss and letting the door close behind her. I turned back to the mirror, looking at my reflection, wishing for just one day I could go out without someone recognizing me.

  Longing for the seclusion of the tour b
us, I finished up and walked back outside to find Ziggy standing exactly where I’d left him.

  “I’ll be in the bus,” I said. “Can you bring that stuff with you?”

  “Wait,” he said, rushing away, shoving all the stuff in Blade’s hands, barking orders at him to pay for it, and then rushing back to my side. “Let’s go.”

  “You weren’t kidding by sticking by me.”

  “Do I look like a man who doesn’t keep his word?”

  “No, you do not,” I laughed, threading my arm through his and walking back to the bus with him.

  CHAPTER 27

  ZIGGY

  Everything about her wrecked me.

  Her smile. Her laughter. Those fucking eyes.

  Not to mention the way she looked at me.

  I took a deep breath each time she touched me, because I knew damned well that if I didn’t ground myself around her, I’d fly off the handle and ruin everything by giving into these damned urges that continued to plague me every second I was with her.

  And yet, I was determined not to leave her side. If I could have gone into the bathroom stall with her at that truck stop, I would have. I almost didn’t let the blonde in, but she insisted I let her in. I waited till she’d gone and cracked the door, listening to their every word. When I realized they were talking about me, it only made me more determined.

  My determination made me feel strong.

  My attraction to her, if that’s what this was, made me feel weak.

  The tour bus was tiny, a complete contrast to the idea you get from pictures. It was dark and intimate and impossible to escape her energy, even by locking myself away in my bunk or the bathroom.

  So, when we pulled into Los Angeles in the late evening hours and were quickly hustled into the bowels of the Hollywood Bowl, I was thankful for all the distractions, for the brief reprieve from the intensity of Lucky’s energy. Instead, I focused on every one around us, each new face a possible suspect. Still stuck to Lucky like her conjoined twin, my eyes darted around like a pinball, ready for anything that might come our way.

  Of course, I wasn’t doing this alone.

  By the time the show began, the Gods had fanned out, each manning a pre-assigned post, each of them presenting a unified presence that would intimidate anyone into thinking twice about crossing them. I’d never been more grateful to a group of guys in my life. Clearly, they’d re-assessed the situation and were intent on eliminating any chance for further mistakes or slip-ups. Even Slade was keeping his shit together. He stood stoically at the edge of the crowd, a warrior ready for battle. Watching them all from the side of the stage as Lucky walked out, my heart swelled with pride.

  Bring it on, Nicholai, I thought. We’re ready for you, motherfucker.

  Lucky started in on her first song, and my heart skipped. From the first note, her voice, her presentation, her sexuality and her intense stage presence left me breathless. I willed myself to look away, to keep my eye on the crowd, but my gaze kept trailing back to her, mesmerized.

  She was magic, pure and simple. She smiled, and your heart opened. She sang, and your spirit soared. She looked at you, and made you feel like you’d been touched by love.

  Love…

  That word kept creeping into my head. It was absurd, really. I barely knew her. But watching her now?

  Love.

  Looking out at the sea of adoring faces turned up, hanging on her every word, I saw that love reflected back to me a thousand times. Like a warm blanket, that energy flowed through the air for the next two hours and by the end of it all, the bliss was almost palpable.

  Lucky ran off stage a sweaty, glowing mess that reminded me of the way she looked the morning after we’d made love all night, and I damned near sank to my knees. Her usual edge had softened, her hair flowed around her face, her skin shimmered in the flashing lights and her smile was so brilliant that it beamed joy.

  Her heat penetrated my skin, as she, once again, jumped into my arms so that I had no choice but to catch her. Embracing her felt like home and I lingered an extra second before placing her on her feet.

  “That was even better than last night,” I said, smiling down at her.

  “The crowd was amazing!” Her enthusiasm was contagious and we walked back to the dressing rooms with a bounce in our steps, Blade, Riot and Wreck close behind. When we reached the room with Lucky’s name on it, Wreck and Blade flanked her while Riot and I went inside and inspected every fucking inch of the room before letting her in.

  I checked the shower three times.

  “Coast is clear,” I said, after opening the door. The others waited outside while Lucky and I went in, once again in close quarters, and once again leaving me struggling to breathe.

  We stood looking at each other, her breasts heaving as she caught her breath, mine from the impact that being alone with her had on me, facing off like two opponents waiting for the other to take the first punch.

  CHAPTER 28

  LUCKY

  Everything was pink. The exterior of the Beverly Hills Hotel was pink, and every where you looked in Bungalow 5, you found a new shade of it.

  “Elizabeth Taylor loved this bungalow,” I said to Ziggy. He was a little rough around the edges, his long, blonde hair, black leather vest and menacing tattoos deliciously contrasting with the luxurious surroundings.

  “The couch looks comfortable,” he said, setting his backpack down on it. “I’ll hunker down here for the night. Blade and I can take turns guarding the door.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said, shrugging as I poured myself a drink from the shimmering glass bar. “The bed’s incredibly comfortable, though.”

  He grunted and sat on the big, fluffy pink couch and I suppressed a laugh.

  “Want a drink?” I asked.

  “I shouldn’t,” he shook his head, “I’m still on duty.”

  “What if I give you a different job?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “What if I pay you just to have fun with me?”

  “Those aren’t the skills you hired me for.”

  “So, we’ll change the job description.”

  “I’m not a gigolo, Lucky.”

  “Well, you’d make a damned fine one!” I said, downing my whiskey and pouring another one. He watched me flitter around the room. I picked up a little marble statue of a pink bird and inspected it, feeling his eyes on me. The whiskey began it’s warm buzz, a welcome relaxation settling over me. I put down the bird and turned back to Ziggy, our eyes crashing together.

  He looked away instantly.

  I poured another glass of whiskey and walked it over to him.

  “Come on,” I said. “The day’s over. We’re all alone. Nobody will know if you have a drink. And with Blade out there, nobody is getting in here. Not even Nicholai.”

  His name sounded ugly on my lips and I wished I’d not mentioned him, because Ziggy’s eyes clouded with a darkness that I’d come to recognize. It also came with a reminder of why we were here. Still, I was happy to see it when he took the glass from me and took a small, tentative sip.

  “Just a little,” he shrugged.

  I smiled and left him alone, wandering out onto the terrace, which was a beautiful, secluded garden with a couple of lounge chairs and a fire pit. The sweet perfume of white gardenias lingered in the air, the moon full and high in the clear night sky.

  It felt amazing to finally have a day free of Nicholai’s torture. Thankfully, I’d not gone through with firing the Gods, because they’d proven themselves to be efficient and effective. If Nicholai had tried to get through to me tonight, it hadn’t worked and that was because of them.

  I glanced back at Ziggy, sipping on his whiskey and watching me through the open French doors.

  “Come out here. Look at the moon with me,” I urged.

  He stood up, stepping out and towering over me, his frame almost blocking out the view of the moon. “Look,” I pointed up. He lifted his head, his beautiful face awash in
moonlight, his features almost feminine. I reached up, caressing his sharp cheekbone. He gasped at my touch, reaching up and grabbing my fingers and bringing them to his lips. I melted at his gesture, leaning into him.

  He turned and looked down at me, his eyes a raging storm.

  “We’re all alone,” I whispered, hoping he didn’t walk away this time.

  Instead, he nodded thoughtfully, his eyes drinking me in. He pulled my fingers from his lips, intertwining his fingers with mine and pulling me in close. Heat rolled from his chest, hitting me with an inferno of desire that seemed to pulse between us.

  His lips were on mine in a sudden fury of chaos and fire that threatened to knock me off my feet. With all the pent up frustration of the last few days, his kiss was hard and deep and hungry. I kissed him back with the same intensity, so desperately needing to communicate how much I wanted him.

  My words hadn’t worked.

  My teasing hadn’t broken through his resistance.

  The suggestive looks I’d thrown his way had only caused him to turn away.

  I kissed him with all the hope I had inside of me, with all the clarity I could muster, to let him know that without any doubt, I needed him.

  I needed every inch of his skin against mine. I needed his heat, his fire, his desire. I needed him to want me, to take me, and take me again, to make everything fall away, just as he’d done before.

  I needed him to take all the pain away.

  To make me forget.

  I put it all into that kiss like it was a matter of life or death.

  And he took it. With a savage hunger that I could feel ripping through him, he kissed me with a passion that reflected my own perfectly.

  And then, just like that, in the blink of an eye — he pulled away, taking it all back, removing his heat and leaving nothing but cold emptiness.

  “I can’t, Lucky,” he growled, the words ripping from his throat painfully. “I just can’t.”

  “That’s too bad,” I whispered, watching him walk back inside, grab his backpack, and walk out the front door while my heart broke clear in two.