Hopelessly Devoted: (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter #3)

by Bink Cummings

  Me: I know, babe. Thank you for trying to take care of me.

  Kat: Don’t do anything stupid. You have a habit of doing stupid things.

  Me: I know. And I promise not to.

  Kat: No more babies.

  Me: Agreed. No more babies. Is Walker giving you hell?

  He must be. Unless she’s worried I’m gonna step out on her and knock someone else up. Which would never happen.

  Kat: No. Your daughter is. She’s practicing for the Olympic gymnastics team. Roxie and Scarlett have been tormenting the poor thing. So she’s trying to beat them up for messing up her routine. Walker’s not helping matters. He wants to be constantly held. Any time I put him down he fusses, which isn’t like him.

  I chuckle at her description, wishing I’d stayed home instead of followin’ Pops’ orders. Then I could’ve watched my girls touchin’ their mom’s big, sexy belly. Fuck. Just thinkin’ of Kat’s beautiful belly, swollen with my kid gets me rock hard every time. She puts the S in sexy. Add in all that sass, luscious tits, brilliant mind, and my dick’s ready to pound railroad spikes.

  Me: I love you so goddamn much.

  Kat: So you say. Sometimes you have a shitty way of showing it.

  Me: I know. You’re welcome to kick me in the balls anytime I fuck up.

  Kat: Like today when you didn’t tell me what you were really doing at the clubhouse?

  Tippin’ my head back, I groan in absolute defeat, as the coolness of the wall chills my scalp. I knew this was coming.

  Scratching my scruffy chin with one hand, I type out a text with the other.

  Me: Yes. That was an error on my part. I didn’t want you to know, because I was worried you thought I might sleep with someone else. And I didn’t want you to worry.

  In hindsight, that was foolish. Either way, she’s gonna worry about other women. After the Vanessa fiasco that blew through my life, I wouldn’t be surprised if my little Tiger ever fully trusts me at a club party. Not that I cheated on her. Nor would I. But I did possibly impregnate another woman—if the DNA test shows that Walker’s mine. So her concern is reasonable. At least to me, it is.

  “You better be textin’ Kat,” Kade interjects.

  Spreadin’ my legs out, gettin’ more comfortable, my head lists to the side, high as a damn kite. “Yes. I’m textin’ with her. What in the hell was in those pills you gave me?” My lips are almost numb.

  “Oxy.”

  “F-uck.”

  “You feel better, don’t ya?”

  “I’m high.”

  Kade smirks, eyebrows bouncin’ animatedly as he nods. “That’s the objective. Yeah?”

  “You better not let anyone rape me tonight at the party.” I sound like a bitch.

  “You sound like a bitch.” Kade snorts.

  My sentiments exactly.

  “I don’t need to give Ghost any more reasons to hate me. Or for him or anyone else to feed Kat lies.”

  “You’re not gonna cheat on her.”

  “I know that, and you know that. But if I pass out all it takes is one picture.” It wouldn’t be the first time people snap a photo to cause shit.

  Kade thumps his blood speckled chest. “I got you, bro. That just means more pussy for me.” His smirk grows into a full on smile, smug as fuck.

  “Precisely. Now carry on.” I wave him forth with a lazy hand. The sooner this guy dies, the quicker we’ll be done.

  “You better not pass out on me. We’ve got another asshole to kill.”

  That’s not gonna happen. This shit’s strong— makin’ my head float. This is the reason I don’t take heavy narcotics if I can prevent it.

  “I took two oxy.”

  Kade rolls his eyes. “Dumbass.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll wake you if ya snooze.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  Kade gets back to his thing, and I get back to mine before my brain powers down.

  Kat: Honesty is always the best policy with me.

  Me: I know. And you’ll get it. Which is why I’m gonna tell you that I took two oxy that Kade gave me. So I’m gonna be out here soon. If you don’t hear back from me for a while, know that I ain’t up to no good. I’m just sleeping.

  Kat: OMG. Are you okay?!

  Me: Babe, don’t freak out. You wanted honesty, and I’m given it to ya.

  Kat: Shit. I know. I’m sorry. Are you okay? Is that better? That makes me sound calm. I’m calm.

  Me: No you’re not. And I’m fine. Overdid it a bit. That’s all.

  Kat: This is why you shouldn’t have left!

  Me: I know. I wish I woulda fought Pops about staying home.

  Kat: He is the one who made you go?

  Me: Yes. He wanted some shit handled that only I could handle.

  Kat: I’m gonna kill him!

  Besotted beyond rationalization, I grin at the intensity of her text. I’m one lucky bastard to have such a fiercely loyal old lady. And I’m gonna show her just how fuckin’ lucky I am in two days, when Valentine’s rolls around.

  Me: Sweetheart, stop. There’s no use in getting upset on my account. You gotta remember he’s not only my pops, but he’s also my prez. There are some orders I gotta follow even if I don’t want to.

  Kat: Well he’s my father-in-law, not my prez, so I can kill him if I want.

  My heart jackknifes. I can’t believe she called him her father-in-law. That means she’s in this. That this is fuckin’ real! Goddamn, I’m so happy I could weep like a bitch. But I won’t. Instead, I smile ‘til my cheeks hurt.

  Me: I love you so fuckin much, Tiger, you don’t even know.

  Kat: I love you, too.

  Me: You better.

  Kat: I do. Sometimes I wonder if I should be committed to an asylum for feeling that way.

  Me: If you were committed anywhere I’d break in, kill everyone, and rescue you.

  Kat: Well aren’t you a regular knight in shining armor.

  Me: Smartass.

  Kat: Always.

  Me: Hey, Tiger?

  Kat: Yes, Ryker?

  Me: I’m getting really sleepy, but I don’t want to stop talking to you.

  Kat: Get some rest. You can text me when you wake up. Dickcheese told me he’d keep you safe.

  Me: He did? When?

  Kat: When he picked you up today.

  That’s my brother, always lookin’ out for me as I would him.

  Me: Alright, pretty lady, I’ll text you later. Tell the girls I love them… I’m gonna dream sweet dreams of your sweet, sweet pussy.

  Kat: I will, you perv.

  Me: Love you forever.

  Stowin’ my cell in my pocket, unable to keep my eyes open a moment longer, I tilt my head back and succumb to the euphoric opiate high.

  Ryker

  Two dead and another one not to go. After I passed out during my brother’s torture sesh, I woke up to a bloodbath of flesh and guts. Talk about sickening. Kade decimated that man until he died a very horrible death. Once he was finished, the guy’s abdomen looked a lot like hamburger fresh from the grinder. How Kade can stomach that level of torture is something I can never and will never comprehend.

  Now that the meds I took have worn off a bit, we’re arguing in circles outside the third prisoner’s cell. Ten minutes ago I wheeled myself to the next room along with a blood-smeared Kade. What I didn’t expect to find inside the four cold walls was a scrawny, freckled-faced kid who’s naked and deathly afraid.

  “I’m not killing a kid, Kade,” I rumble for the fifteenth time. There’s no way I’m takin’ a life so young. Not when I know for a fact he didn’t shoot me, nor drive the vehicle that t-boned Vanessa’s car.

  My jazzed up bro has his knife out, twirling it between his fingers, ready for more blood. “He’s an accomplice. We know he was in the truck with them. We know he knew about the attack at the cabin and the clubhouse. He was in on it!”

  “Did he drive any of the cars? Did he shoot at anyone?”


  “Not that I know of.”

  “He’s a kid.”

  Kade spits on the concrete floor. “He’s old enough to know fuckin’ better. If you join a club and do bad shit, you face the consequences. I’m gonna bleed him,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Fistin’ the front of Kade’s shirt I jerk him forward, bringing us nose to nose. He doesn’t put up a fight. “You ain’t touchin’ shit unless I say so.”

  “The fuck I ain’t. His club almost killed you,” he hisses in my face.

  “You wanna try me? ‘Cause I’ll fight you. Do you wanna hurt your brother? You wanna fight over this? ‘Cause I might not have much of a conscience, but at least I got a pea sized one. You ain’t got nothin’. We can’t kill a kid, Kade! That’s bad karma. He’s already scared out of his mind.” I shove him away, and he stumbles back three steps.

  Kade massages the nape of his neck and begins to pace. “What do you wanna do with him then? Bake him a cake and kiss his boo-boos?”

  “No, smartass.”

  “Then what? ‘Cause Pops ain’t gonna like whatever you come up with that doesn’t put that kid six feet under. He’s gotta be put to ground. You know it.”

  “We’re not killin’ a fuckin’ kid.”

  Kade scoffs. “How’d you get a bleedin’ heart all of a sudden?”

  “I have no such thing.”

  “Is this about Kat?”

  I lean my shoulder against the hall wall, so I don’t fall over. These meds are still kickin’ my ass. “How would this have anything to do with her?”

  Chin to chest, he continues pacing. “’Cause she’s softened you up. She has this way about her that makes you wanna be good—a better man.”

  “She makes you a better man, too. Whether you wanna believe it or not. It’s true.”

  Kade was much different before Kat came back into my life, and freshly into his. Their friendship has changed him in ways I don’t think he realizes. He’s less rough around the edges. Cares about people’s feelings more than before. Not sayin’ he wasn’t always considerate of those he loves. Because he is. That’s never been his problem. But when you have to balance such darkness day in and day out with the light, it takes its toll. Kat helps ground him. My brother has never been normal, though to most people he appears that way, aside from his love affair with knives. That’s because he doesn’t let most people see the darkness that lingers in his soul. His morbid fascination with the human body and how it ticks has always made him unique. When we were kids, he was the one who used to come down to these chambers and watch club brothers kill and interrogate various men. He learned a lot from them, and the medical journals Pops use to buy him all the time.

  “I know that. But Watermelon Tits ain’t gonna keep me from guttin’ a teenager,” he argues.

  Guess it’s time to try a different tactic. Bloodlust has his brain firin’ on all the wrong cylinders.

  “What if that was… Walker in eighteen years?” I test.

  “Ain’t neither of ‘em your kids. So that don’t apply here.”

  “Humor me. What if Walker was mine and we had a club war, he was prospectin’ and got caught up like this. What if both of us died. Would you want the other club to kill him, too?” I would say no in a heartbeat ‘cause I know that’s the right answer. Believe it or not, not everyone deserves to die when they make bad choices. Kade has to realize this.

  “Stop talkin’, Ryker.” Kade rakes a hand through his hair—frustrated.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I,” he clips.

  “Would you want him to be killed? What if he’s got a mom back home like Kat…and sisters who love him.” Yep, I’m layin’ it on thick.

  “That’s not possible. Nobody has a mom like Kat, except Rox and Scarlett.”

  Damn, he’s a stubborn motherfucker when he wants to be. He’s got a smart-mouthed answer for everything, and it’s startin’ to piss me off.

  “Jesus Christ, Kade, can’t you cut that bloodlust for a damn minute and think like a normal human!”

  “WWKD, is that the game we’re playin’ right now? What would Kat do?”

  If he doesn’t shut his smartass mouth right now, I’m gonna fuck his pretty face up. Then Kat really will kill me whenever she sees the damage. ‘Cause you and I both know damn well he’ll go cryin’ to her that I punched him. Fuckin’ baby.

  I squeeze the handle on my scooter to curtail the need to lay him out. “Oh, my God, you’re an insufferable dickhead sometimes.”

  “Hey, you start textin’ with your old lady, and now you wanna play nice. What do expect me to say?” He kicks the base of the chipped wall where a little puddle of water has gathered.

  “I expect you to answer the question like a sane adult. Can you at least try to act that way for just a minute before you go back to my psycho brother? How Kat hasn’t realized you’re insane yet is truly a miracle.”

  “She’d love me even if she knew,” he volleys back with supreme attitude.

  “That might be true, but you still need to answer the question.”

  Kade throws his hands up in theatrical defeat as he turns to me, makin’ eye contact through a blistering glare. “No. Okay! No. I wouldn’t want them to kill Walker in this hypothetical bullshit situation. I’d want him to live.”

  “Then why can’t we sit down with this kid, talk to him, and figure out what’s goin’ on in his life? Then we can decide how we wanna proceed.” That sounds reasonable enough to me.

  “We’re not Dr. Fuckin’ Phil, Ryker. I’m not gonna ask about his feelings and wipe his scrawny ass when he takes a dump.”

  Aggravated, I palm my entire face and grumble behind it, “Kat is so gonna find out how much of a nut job you are. There’s no way we can keep this under wraps.”

  “Shut the fuck up! We ain’t talkin’ about her. Stop bringin’ her up. She ain’t gonna find out!”

  Oops, I nicked a nerve.

  I slide said palm down my face, banishing a groan. “She totally is. You can’t act normal long enough to be a stable adult.”

  Tuckin’ his knife inside his cut, he crosses his arms over his chest, legs wide apart—facin’ off. He taps his toe on the ground like a twitch he can’t restrain. “I know what you’re doin’. Stop usin’ her against me. It’s not fair.”

  Was that a whine? I swear he was whining right there. Now I know I’ve poked a sore spot.

  “What’s not fair? I’m doin’ no such thing.” I play dumb.

  “You’re makin’ me wanna be a good person by talkin’ about Kat. ‘Cause all I can think about now is what she’d want me to do in this situation. You fuckin’ suck.”

  Hell yeah, that’s definitely a whine.

  “Is it working?” I taunt.

  “I hate you,” he grinds out.

  A victorious smile steals across my face. “I love you, too.”

  “Fuck off.”

  “Awe, you’re so sweet,” I mock to irritate him a fraction more. This is fuckin’ fun.

  “Suck a fat dick.”

  “That’s my woman’s job,” I quip.

  Unfolding one arm, he flips me off. “Christ, dickbag, can’t you shut up?”

  “Are you gonna sit back and let me talk to the kid instead of killin’ him?”

  Kade makes a sour puppy dog face. It’s hilarious as hell. “I thought you already won. Yes. Yes, we’ll talk to the freckly fucker.”

  “And?” I prompt. He knows what I need to hear.

  “You want me to say it?” More childish pouting.

  “Yes. I want you to say it.”

  “I won’t kill him. There. Is that better?”

  “Yup.”

  Kade yanks open the cell door, and like a sarcastic SOB, he sweeps his hand and bows midway, signaling for me to enter first.

  “I seriously hate your guts,” Kade whispers menacingly behind my back as I scooter forth.

  The corner of my lip hooks a partial smirk.

  No, he doesn’t.


  “I think I’ll survive.”

  “I dunno what Kat sees in you,” another harsh whisper.

  “On that, we both agree. Now be a good boy and get your brother the chair from the other room.” Brooking no further argument, I lean against the wall furthest from the cot and thumb to the open doorway. Surprisingly enough, Kade does as he’s told and retrieves the chair. He’s even respectful enough to unfold it and set it down beside me.

  “Thanks,” I mutter in appreciation before I take a seat and stretch out. Rubbin’ my eyes to rid them of crud, I keenly observe the kid who’s curled into a ball on the corner of his cot. His waif-like arms are wrapped around his shins. The bottom half of his face is hidden behind knobby knees. He has messy, reddish blond hair, and snow white skin speckled with light brown freckles across the entirety of his body. At least from what I can see. His bony shoulders are as heavily spotted as his forehead. However, the tops of his long, skinny feet lack the brownish dots.

  Standing alongside me, Kade parks himself against the wall, arms and ankles both crossed in a faux lax position. If he expects me to believe he’s not jonesing to bleed this kid by restin’ that way, he doesn’t know me at all. The tightness around his fiery blue eyes and the set of his jaw is enough to know he’s doing his best to restrain his internal demons. Kade is and always has been like a shark. One taste of blood and he wants more. A good thing about my brother is that he doesn’t kill frivolously. It’s not random, or accidental. It’s done with a purpose. If you’ve ever watched the show Dexter, you’d consider Kade a watered down version of the famous blood splatter analyst.

  Wanting to appear somewhat intimidating, but not overly so, I slouch in the chair lettin’ my legs spread wide, one arm tucked across my chest. “What’s your name, kid?” My tone’s firm, yet friendly.

  The kid in question starts to tremble. Any minute now and he’s gonna piss himself. This is worse than I anticipated.

  “Name, kid. My brother asked you a fuckin’ question,” Kade barks, effectively screwin’ this up. I wanna hiss at him to shut his trap, but I know that if I do, we won’t come off as a united front. That’s not what I want.

  I’m not interested in playing good cop, bad cop.

  “You gotta name?” I adjust my voice to a soft almost whisper. “All we want is a name.” Once you get someone talkin’ and to trust you aren’t’ gonna murder them, their tongues loosen. That’s the goal here. As much as I say I don’t feel shit, my hearts poundin’ a hundred miles an hour watchin’ this scared kid about to stroke out at our mere presence. This ain’t the reaction of a true outlaw biker. Most of ‘em laugh in the face of death or tell you where you can shove it. Not this boy. He’s like a scared puppy who’s been beaten into submission and afraid to make a peep. Which tells me he’s either meek or been abused. Possibly both.