by Debra Kayn
Merk's gaze swung to the left of her and his chin came up. She followed the direction of his gaze and sucked in her breath. Cam stood fifteen feet away from her, staring out at Merk. The deadpan expression gave nothing away, but the pistol in Cam's hand grabbed her attention. Every breath she'd held since coming into Cam's life whooshed out of her at once.
Chapter Eleven
Stache walked between the porch and Merk. Cam's index finger tightened on the trigger of the pistol in his hand. The friendship between Christina and Merk crossed the line, and he needed to sever the connection.
Christina never looked at the other Moroad members for approval. Hell, he'd walked up onto the porch, expecting her eyes to land on him and instead found her fucking hypnotized by something in the yard. That something was going to die.
"Cam," Christina said.
Impatient to have Merk back in his pistol's sight, he shifted his position and his fingers tightened around the grip. It'd take two pounds of pressure for the bullet to leave the chamber and splatter Merk's head on the fire in the yard and those members standing around, unaware their vice president was going to die. Nobody could stop him. He was fucking president.
"Cam," Christina repeated.
He waited for Stache to move, one foot either back or forward. That's all he needed to get a clear view of Merk.
Stache leaned down to throw another stick on the fire. Cam raised his arm and disgust hit him low in the gut.
"Fuck," he mumbled, looking around for Merk when a low roar distracted him. He turned in time to see his target riding out of the yard.
Christina pulled on his arm. He lowered the pistol and slipped the weapon under his belt. If Merk wanted a chase, Cam would be happy to hunt him down and take him permanently out of Moroad MC.
"What were you doing?" Christina slid in front of him, her fingers trailing over his arms. "You're tense and your men are out there in the dark. You could've shot one of them."
He grunted and wound his fingers through the back of her hair. "What happened between you and Merk when I was gone?"
"Nothing. I just came out a few minutes ago." She peered up at him. "What were you doing?"
"Nothing."
"Where did you go?"
"I had things to do." He kissed her on the forehead, not trusting himself not to hurt her in his need to make damn sure she understood who she belonged to. "Don't forget, I'll be on a run tonight."
"You don't have to visit the prison too, do you?"
"No. I'll be coming home." He tilted her head, taking in her face. When he'd left her earlier, she'd been devastated over the options he gave her to take care of Jeremy. "Are you okay?"
She shook her head. "I'm trying, Cam. My idea of what is the right thing to do in this situation doesn't seem to have any weight against your arguments."
"I'm giving you the choice," he said. "I don't understand why you're taking it hard."
"Are you serious?"
He tightened his grasp on her hair and held her still. "Baby, listen. This is the way of life for us. I've never known any different. I took off today to try to see this from your side, and I can't. Jeremy wears the patch. He knows the consequences. Every man here does."
"Jeremy didn't make the decision for you to lie and commit a crime. That's on you," she said.
"I know." He inhaled and racked his head. "Not once did I not take the blame for doing the crime. I came clean to you, nobody else. I could've kept it to myself and you wouldn't have known. I gave you information at a time that I thought you needed it. Don't I get something for that?"
Her lips pursed. He brought his other hand up and ran his thumb over her lips until they softened.
"If I told you to tell him, which I'm not going to do now, you'd have no guilt over ending Jeremy's life?" she whispered. "You only told me what you'd done to make sure I stuck around after you went to prison, so nobody would find out Jeremy isn't yours."
He shrugged. "I like the kid, but I run Moroad MC for reasons you'll never understand and I'm not changing the rules. I needed to tell you."
She flinched. "That's what I hate."
"Why?" Fuck, he had better things to do than try to explain his actions. "Let's get this over with, so we can go back to how we were together."
"How were we, Cam?"
"We were fucking good." He framed her face with his hands. "You and me, baby. Why are you questioning everything tonight?"
She opened her mouth and shook her head without answering. He couldn't give her any more time to dwell on something she couldn't change. Jeremy belonged to Moroad MC. Cam already paid for the crime of stealing Jeremy while doing time for possession of a weapon meant for the kid. They were even. All three of them needed to move on.
"Let's go join the guys and relax for a few minutes before I need to take off, huh?" He tilted his head, looking into her eyes. "Everything will be fine. Jeremy's good, and I'll protect him in the club. He's got a better life, thanks to you."
She glanced at him frowning. He led her to the others, needing to thrust her back within the club where she could concentrate on the here and now.
Christina leaned against his side when they reached the fire. He tucked her under his arm and turned down Stache's offer of a beer. Christina needed things back to normal, and he'd do whatever possible to give her the security she craved.
At the center of attention around the fire, Gunner held up his arm. "No fucking joke. The asshole was this tall and about a hundred pounds more than any of us. The guard turned around and walked away from Tank without saying a word."
The others laughed, and Bear smacked Gunner on the back of the head. "You weren't even on the wing when that happened. The moment Meese cleared the cell; he had the motherfucker on his knees crying for his momma."
Prison rumors rivaled any bullshit made up on the outside, but in the case of the inmate named Tank, the men were right. The fucker terrorized the wing, and would probably continue for the next twenty-five years. Cam caught Jeremy's eyes and lifted his chin in approval. The kid took in all the stories, absorbed them, learned from them. Sometimes, like now, Cam swore Jeremy played out the scenarios in his head and came up with a better solution. A solution created with innocence and the desire to do better. He neither feared getting locked up nor worried, but planned for the future.
Cam reached down and squeezed Christina's ass. She'd done a good job raising the kid. Jeremy matured since the night he whined about not wanting to go to juvie when the sheriff took Cam away.
While Jeremy adapted, Christina still struggled to relax and accept the lifestyle. He shifted his weight to his other leg. Her fear of being alone outweighed the fear of him spending more time in the state pen. He used that fear to keep her here and to see his side concerning Jeremy. She wasn't even aware he'd set the whole thing up and knew in the end, she'd never let him tell Jeremy the truth.
Christina pressed against his hand and her arm slipped around his waist. He stepped behind her, pulling her back against his chest. His cock hardened.
Christina's upper body swelled with her inhaled breath. Her hand went to his outer thigh, holding on to his jeans, holding him in place, holding close to his need for her. He wrapped his arms around her, setting his hands on her ribs, under her breasts, feeling each quick intake of air.
The fire spit sparks up into the air. Christina leaned back fully away from the heat of the flames, and he braced her weight.
"Shit." Johnson toed a log on the fire, sending up more sparks. "You know what going on the run early means?"
"What?" Cam asked.
"We'll get back before the women are done dancing in town." Johnson pulled out his cell. "Lola's mine tonight."
Ring fingered the stud in his bottom lip. "I get Katie."
"Dibs on Jessie." Rich glanced at Willy. "Fuck, man. Don't give me that look."
Willy set his jaw, raised his brows, and kept his mouth shut. Rich shook his head in defeat. "Fine, I'll take Tina."
"Then Jess
ie's mine." Willy shrugged. "Who's scheduled to escort them from the club?"
Christina gazed over her shoulder at Cam. "I thought the girls were allowed to come and go by themselves."
"Not anymore," Cam said, and then answered Willy's question. "Gunner, Meese, and Merk are staying back."
"Meese, you're out and I'm in." Johnson slid his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. "Who else wants to flip?"
"I will," Rich said. "You guys can have the night off."
"Wait." Bear asked, "Where the hell is Merk?"
"I don't know, man. I saw him a second ago." Rich walked over and beat on the trailer door with his fist. "Get your ass out here."
The door remained closed. Cam wasn't the only one who questioned Merk leaving.
Cam bent his neck and whispered in Christina's ear. "Go in the house, baby. I need to talk to the men and then I'm taking off."
She turned in his arms. "Be careful."
"Yeah." He kissed her hard, slapped her ass, and watched her hurry away in the dark.
When Christina shut the door, he said, "We need to talk as a club before our run."
"Hang on, and I'll text Merk," Rich said.
"Leave Merk out of this." Cam took out a cigarette, lit the end, and inhaled. "I need to talk to you guys about what went down the last eighteen months with Merk in charge."
"Problems?" Gunner folded his arms across his chest. "We went over everything the first meeting we had when you got back. The run hasn't had a hiccup. The only sign of anything going down was the message from Reds on the car, and we decided to lay low until we know more about what's happening in the state pen."
Cam nodded. "I'm using my position as the president of Moroad tonight. I expect this conversation to remain between us and nothing said outside the fire or to any member who isn't present. Do we all agree?"
Each man gave an aye and shifted closer, tightening the circle. Cam looked each member in the eye, making his way around the group. He needed their trust, because their freedom remained at stake. Each member needed the club.
Life as an ex-convict made it necessary to belong, whether that was a gang, a motorcycle club, or an affiliation with the mob. Money backed personal freedom, filled their pockets, and MC brothers watched each other's back. Belonging to the club gave them added assurance they'd survive the outside world.
"I talked to Jacko on the inside, and there were a couple things that stood out from our conversation. Afterward, one of my sources informed me Reds are walking out of prison faster than any other group. They're even having their paroles granted early, while Blues and Moroad inmates are being sent back with no excuses." Cam sucked from his cigarette.
No one needed to know Christina supplied him with the information. He took another hit off his smoke. One wrong step forward with the news of Merk's betrayal could put a huge target on his back and fuck up his plans for the future. He needed to deliver the information in a way everyone believed him one-hundred percent.
"I have some news no one will like to hear." Cam tossed the cigarette butt into the fire. "I suspect we have a rat in Moroad Motorcycle Club."
The men looked at each other. Faces hardened, showing no surprise. Whether on the inside or outside, no one had any love for a rat and looked forward to taking a snitch out. When it came down to their own life in jeopardy, they'd do anything to protect themselves.
Gunner cleared his throat. "Who is it? I'll kill him."
Cam held up his hand. He wanted to put the idea out there that one of the members would be leaving soon. But, he wanted the honor of taking out Merk, and he'd do it in a way Merk understood that nobody fucked with what belonged to him. He wanted Merk to regret the day he went behind Cam's back and became someone important to Christina.
"There's only one of us not here right now." Bear looked away, shook his head in disgust, and faced the group again. "Anyone know where Merk went on a night we're supposed to be here and going on the run in a bit?"
None of the men spoke up. Cam ran his hand over his head. Assumptions ate men alive, clouded their judgment, and forced them to believe what facts failed to do. He'd planted the seed and sealed Merk's fate. Without a judge and jury, the others already believed Merk guilty of betraying his club and all eyes would be on Merk, keeping him away from Christina.
"I don't know who ratted us out, but I will find out. No one acts without contacting me. Keep your eyes and ears open. Watch our men, watch Christina, watch the women. I want to make sure we all stay safe." Cam pointed to Gunner. "If I'm not available, you go to Gunner and he'll get ahold of me. I want information and anything that seems out of the ordinary."
Johnson asked, "What's your plan if we find out Moroad has a rat?"
"I'll kill him myself," Cam said.
Each of the men wandered away from the fire, seeking the shadows to absorb the information handed out tonight. Cam looked toward the house. The living room light turned off. Inside, he imagined Christina walking to the bedroom to get ready for bed. Soon, he wouldn't have to worry about who she wanted in her bed, because he'd take out every God damn member of Moroad who looked at her twice to make sure she only wanted him.
Chapter Twelve
The music from Jeremy's stereo upstairs trickled down into the living room. Christina uncapped the black marker and circled the sales ad for roast on sale until Saturday.
"Do you like sweet potatoes?" She glanced over at Cam
Cam sat at the end of the couch, bent over in front of the coffee table where a part from his bike sat on the sports section of the newspaper. "I don't know."
"Haven't you ever tried it before?" she asked.
Cam continued to loosen a bolt. "I doubt it. Food inside the pen is more basic."
"What did they serve you?"
"Serve?" He shook his head. "Depends. If you're in solitary, you're slipped a brown paper sack and you're lucky if you get one slice of turkey in foil, a hard-boiled egg, a piece of bread, and something that tastes like peaches but looks like shit."
"That's it?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "I usually saved my bread from lunch until my dinner sack came. That way I could put the mystery meat into a sandwich with the extra piece of bread."
"How did you survive on so little?" She folded the newspaper and set it on the edge of the coffee table.
"Didn't say I starved." He hand loosened the bolt. "There's ways to get more food."
"I thought they had a cafeteria in prison and you sat with everyone else." She turned on the couch and curled her legs under her.
"Hand me that grease gun." He held out his hand.
She leaned over and passed him the tool. She'd heard online all the talk about the food in prison, but she never realized how little the inmates were given.
"Usually I ate in the chow hall. Food is served on a tray¸" he said, dropping his attention to threading a new bolt.
"What kind of food?"
He frowned. "What's with all the questions? It's food. Prison chow all looks the same. It's like eating oatmeal with a lot of pepper. They add pepper to everything, so there's something there to taste. I don't put much thought into what they're giving me. I eat when I'm told to eat."
"Gross." She shuddered. "I think I'll pick up a few sweet potatoes at the store next time I go, and you can try them. They're really good with brown sugar and butter."
Cam scooted the coffee table away from him and dove for her. She screamed as he tackled her. Arched over the arm of the couch, her shock turned to laugher when his lips nibbled on her neck.
"Only thing I care about eating is you," he mumbled against her skin. "Want me to tell you what you taste like?"
Warmth replaced her amusement. She threaded her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes. "Maybe..."
"Mm." He licked a trail down her neck to her chest. "Sweet and—"
"Shit," Jeremy said. "Sorry, I'm leaving. I didn't see anything."
Cam pulled back. She caught sight of Jeremy holding his hands up and turning
around. Pushing Cam off her, she stood.
"You can come in the room. Your dad was just goofing around." She straightened her shirt, trying to keep her voice light.
Jeremy's shoulders relaxed and he looked over his shoulder before facing them. "Johnson's stuck out on the old river road with a broken throttle cable. I'm going to check and see if we have one and if not, I'll hit up the bike store before going and helping him get home."
Cam pushed off the couch on a groan and limped a few steps. "Hang on and I'll grab a cable for you. I think there's one in the box on the porch."
"Are you okay?" Jeremy studied Cam's leg.
Cam slapped his hand down on Jeremy's shoulder. "I sat too long."
"You're old." Jeremy ducked away from Cam's slap. "See you later, Christina."
"Ride careful," she said.
Cam turned and lifted his chin. "Put on your boots and come with me."
"To the porch?"
He grinned and stuck a cigarette between his lips. "Yeah, and if you're good and do what I ask, maybe we'll ride up to Moon Pass."
"To the snow?" She moved forward. "I don't think the pass is open yet. I heard it might not be cleared until the second week in July."
"Stache mentioned the other night the road's clear to the turnout, so we'd have to stop." He tilted his head. "I'd like to go see the snow."
Excitement warmed her chest and she nodded. "I'll grab my boots.
In the bedroom, she changed her shorts for jeans, put socks, boots on, and shut the door on her way out. Cam's days and nights usually circled around what the club needed. He'd never shared with her that he'd missed the snow or expressed desire to take her for a ride with no purpose before. She rushed out to the porch and found Cam warming up his motorcycle. Grabbing her helmet off the rocker, she secured the D strap and sat on the back of his bike.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yes."
Caught in the view from the back of the motorcycle, she let her gaze wander to the trees, peaks, and valleys. Floored over Cam's willingness to spend time with her, she let herself relax. Trailing her hands over his body, she squeezed his thighs, rubbed his stomach, and pressed herself against his back. Occasionally she'd catch his gaze in the side mirror and smile.
