His to Take

by Sam Crescent

  Scarlett was a mystery to him.

  She was all fire and sweetness mixed into one. The men adored her, though of course many believed she was way too sweet for the club life. Not only that, she did have a husband.

  He didn’t like to think of Scarlett in his bed, not when he cared about John. His friend always had his back, and there was no way in hell that he’d ever hurt his best friend.

  John would have been one of the best club members. He was loyal and fierce as fuck.

  “What do you want, Kent?”

  “Was wondering if you got word from John. He called an hour ago. Wants to talk to you.”

  Gunner sat up. He had John going through the books of all the club businesses, legal and not. The not-legal shit John was keeping to himself.

  “Why didn’t I get notified ASAP?” He stood up, grabbing his jacket.

  For most of the day he’d been out on the road, going over his businesses, and he’d not even taken a shower.

  It was late, which meant he’d have to go to John’s home. Just thinking about it sent a shock of excitement through him.

  “You were kind of busy, Prez. We all know that Elle wanted to give it to you.” Kent gave him a wink.

  This was just another reason that he didn’t trust Kent. There were times when he was dealing business within the club that fine little details would slip Kent’s mind. In fact, on some occasions when he’d been interrogating, Kent would shoot the bastards dead before they could breathe a word. Gunner had his doubts about Kent’s loyalty, but he couldn’t make a case to the club when he didn’t have any solid proof to back up his … hunches.

  “I don’t want her anywhere near me.” She was nothing more than a cum bucket, and some chicks got off on being that, but not him. He didn’t want to deal with a hospital trip.

  A few years ago, most of the club ended up with the fucking clap. He’d been royally pissed. He always bagged his shit up, apart from when he’d been with his wife, who was now his ex, and even then, he’d rarely dipped his dick in bare.

  “She’s quick and easy,” Kent said. “Thought you’d like the release? Something to help take your mind off shit.”

  He stepped up to Kent, getting in the man’s space. He had a good foot on Kent, and even though he was older, he had a lot more muscle and knew how to use it. “What you doing that needs my mind taking off shit?”

  “Just being a good guy here, boss. You got a screw loose or something to think there’s anything wrong.”

  “Fuck off, Kent.” He moved the man out of his office and locked the door. Until he got to the bottom of the stealing from his stash, no one was allowed in his office. “Call me if you need me.” There wouldn’t be any calls. There rarely were.

  He nodded at Kent and several of his men as he passed. Most of them had their dicks in women that were not their wives. They saluted him with a beer, and he nodded at them.

  For the most part, this club was his life. He had his two boys, the businesses, and the club, but that was it. When he’d taken over, the club had been complete and utter shit. Drugs, booze, skanks, and Feds breathing down their neck about their personal business and their involvement with the guns and drugs. If it hadn’t been for him there wouldn’t be a club.

  For over ten years he’d done the wife thing as well, but that hadn’t stuck. Cherry had been an awful wife. She’d slept with more men than he’d even looked at women. It was pathetic, really.

  They’d been the worst ten years of his fucking life, and he had no wish to repeat them, not ever.

  Leaving the clubhouse, he headed straight to his bike, straddling the little beauty before gunning out of the parking lot. No one asked him any questions.

  He was the Prez, and he did what he wanted to.

  He’d earned his patch more than twenty years ago, taking the club from a two-bit drug dealer and child molester. Since he’d taken charge, the club had gone from strength to strength. The Feds couldn’t pin anything on them. He kept their business locked up tight.

  There had been challenges along the way. Big ones. He’d taken every single one of them. The men who’d accepted he’d won had kept their lives and moved on while still being within the club. Those that didn’t accept it were buried six feet under in the clubhouse yard. In his world the only way to survive was to take out the enemy, and he’d done that. Piece by piece, the club now belonged to him.

  Satan’s Demons MC was his baby.

  He’d brought it back from total destruction.

  But now someone was stealing from him, and that shit didn’t set well with him at all.

  Whoever it was, he was going to make sure that they paid, and that the entire club knew of the shit that was happening.

  Twenty minutes later, he found the modest house that his friend lived in. He knew John had wanted something bigger, but Scarlett didn’t like for him to think she was after his money. She was happy with their home, and that was what she’d made even though John could afford bigger.

  Parking his bike next to John’s top range car, he made his way to the door.

  Knocking hard, he waited.

  And there she stood with one of the prettiest smiles on her face.

  “Gunner,” she said. “It’s good to see you.”

  She stepped back, giving him room to enter. The moment he did the scent of cinnamon cookies filled his senses. “You’ve been baking?”

  “Always. You know the kids love it.” She chuckled.

  She helped at the local day care center where busy parents brought their kids. The center was for kids younger than five.

  “You’re here to see John? He’s in his office. He said to send you straight to him when you arrived.”

  “He didn’t even know if I was going to turn up.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll make you a drink. What would you like?”

  “Coffee would be great.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He watched her walk down the small corridor. The sway of her ass in those tight jeans doing things to his cock that the young bitch’s mouth hadn’t been able to. Pushing aside those dirty thoughts for his best friend’s wife, he found John looking through paperwork.

  ****

  “You need to learn to get a life,” Gunner said.

  John smiled as he looked up. “I have a life. Not a lot of people get it.”

  “It’s all the numbers and shit. Boring as fuck.”

  “To you, maybe. To me they tell a shitload of other details.”

  “Like?”

  “Like someone is stealing from you, and it looks like it’s an inside job. Not only that, they’re stealing from both of your … dealings.”

  John watched as Gunner cursed and entered his office. The man before him went from joking around to all seriousness. “I fucking knew it.”

  His friend was not one to mince his words.

  “Any way of finding out who?” Gunner asked.

  “I’m working on that. They’re clever. Never take too much, always odd amounts here or there. Give me time, and I’ll go through the numbers every single evening.”

  “That’s a lot of work.”

  “Well, you’re a friend and you’re paying me, so we’ll call it even. It just means you’re going to have to stop by here every single night, and I can go through the lists and see. What made you realize money was missing?”

  “The money from the paperwork was never the same as the money in the bank or the safe. Over time it starts to add up, and I can’t see that kind of cash popping up anywhere. I need to know who is stealing and why.”

  “Yeah, whoever it is either didn’t think or doesn’t have time or opportunity to doctor your main books.” He looked over at Gunner, who was glaring. “I called you a couple of hours ago. This work is for someone else. Kent said you were busy with a special lady. Someone I know?”

  Gunner snorted. “There was nothing special about her, believe me. Was bored and couldn’t even get it up. Half the club uses her.”

&nbs
p; John chuckled. “Charming.”

  “That’s what I thought. You know how the club is.”

  “I do, which is why I’m more than content with my very beautiful wife.” Thinking about Scarlett dropped his smile, though. Realizing that Gunner saw everything, he forced it back up. “You need to find yourself a good woman.”

  “What’s going on?” Gunner asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “I saw that look. You can’t keep that kind of shit from me.”

  They had served together, been through a lot, and there was a time that he’d had every single intention of helping Gunner in the club. He’d have been his VP, and none of this shit would be happening right now.

  He’d met Scarlett, and the rest had been history.

  Marrying her, making a life with her, had been more important than joining any club.

  “Are things okay between you and Scarlett?” Gunner asked.

  John wasn’t an asshole, nor was he blind to Gunner’s interest in his wife. He also knew that his wife was completely clueless to it. She was always her usual sweet self, and he adored that about her. He loved that she was his sweet wife outside the bedroom, and when the door closed and they were alone, he got to feel and possess all of her fire.

  Every man wanted one; a lady in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom.

  He got the best of both worlds.

  Just lately, something had been missing though. No matter what they did in the bedroom, it would all end in tears, and it was starting to put a strain on their marriage. They’d learned that he couldn’t have children.

  Scarlett wanted children, lots of them.

  She’d refused to grant him a divorce, and when he’d tried to leave her, she’d begged him not to, that she loved him.

  Since finding out he couldn’t give her children, it had messed something up inside his head, and now he couldn’t … get past it. She said working at the day care center was all she needed.

  When he went to visit her though, he saw the love she had for all those kids. The way she looked when she held one of them or as they talked to her. He couldn’t get that shit out of his mind. She wanted a kid, and that was the one thing he couldn’t give her.

  A brand-new, bigger house? Yes.

  A top-of-the-line car? Yes.

  A newly designed kitchen? Yes.

  Anything that money could buy could be hers.

  She didn’t want it.

  The money helped life, but she wasn’t a woman that needed it. She’d lived a simple life on the poverty line when he’d found her.

  The one thing he couldn’t give her was the one thing she wanted: children.

  “We’re doing fine, Gunner.”

  “That’s not what I asked, and you know it.”

  John blew out a breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Scarlett and I, we’re doing good. Really good. We … are just having some bumps.”

  “Bumps? John, for fuck’s sake. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is, okay. I’m not wired the way you fuckers are.”

  “I can’t have kids,” John said, finally telling his friend the truth. “That’s the crux of the matter. I can’t have babies, and she wants them. Only now…” He stopped and gritted his teeth. “Only now she’s decided not to have any because she loves me more than having any possible kids that we could have.” That for him hurt more than anything.

  “What about adoption?”

  “We’ve not talked about that option yet. We’re still … kind of … dealing with this new wave of information.”

  “Could they be wrong?” Gunner asked.

  “I had three doctors tell me that I can’t have kids. That I’m firing blanks and probably have been for years. I can’t get her pregnant.” There was a knock on the door. Scarlett always knocked when he had clients in his home. She never just barged in. “Don’t say anything to her, please. She’s, we’re … handling it.” He called for her to come in, and there she was, perfection.

  He’d caught sight of her across the street nearly ten years ago. He’d been thirty-five years old at the time. Not long home from deployment, getting himself back on his feet once again. They had said it would be his last mission, but he’d been planning and preparing to put in for another assignment when he caught sight of her.

  Her brown hair had been a mess, piled on top of her head. Her clothes had been well worn, and to anyone looking at her, they could tell she struggled every single day. What struck him the most was she was the only person that day to reach into her pockets and hand a homeless man some change. It was probably all the money she had on her, but she’d given it to a stranger.

  John had known then that he wanted to get to know her. He’d chased her down the street, and after nearly terrifying her, asked her out to coffee.

  He’d been wearing his uniform, and he honestly believed she trusted that more than his crazy talk of not being a serial killer. For a long time, he didn’t think that she believed him, not that he blamed her.

  He never posted the papers and retired within that week.

  Accounting was his next love, after Scarlett, that was.

  She placed the coffee on a small table. The view of her ass in those tight jeans was enough to make him hard. Glancing over at his friend, he saw Gunner staring at her like he had done many times.

  The weird thing was, when Gunner did it, he didn’t want to murder the bastard. Other men, however, he was more than ready to go fucking crazy on their ass. No one stared at his wife for long.

  John didn’t say anything.

  “I brought you both a couple of cookies. Lasagna will be in half an hour. Will you be staying for dinner?” Scarlett asked.

  Guilt filled John as he watched her.

  Lasagna was something she always made to cheer him up, to help him.

  Fuck!

  Forcing a smile to his lips, he turned to Gunner. “There will be plenty for you. You don’t mind, do you, sweetie?” John asked.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then count me in. It has been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal.”

  “You mean Cherry never served you?”

  “You know my ex. She didn’t serve anyone.”

  John had never liked Cherry. She’d been with Gunner purely for the patch, and it had shown. The only thing good to come from her were their two boys.

  Another bolt of pain rushed through him.

  His best friend could have kids.

  Gunner had had them.

  Two boys who carried his blood and his name.

  Scarlett left them alone, closing the door behind her. Staring at where his wife had stood, he looked at Gunner.

  She didn’t know that Gunner wanted her.

  John didn’t like the wheels that were turning in his head, but mainly because a plan was forming, one that could end his marriage, but then, it might not either.

  He held a secret, one that even his wife didn’t know about.

  ****

  Scarlett marveled at her steady hand as she served the lasagna. This was John’s favorite, and it had taken her five years to get just right to how he liked it. He was a good husband, the love of her entire life. Ten years ago, when she’d just given the last of her change to a homeless man, she’d been worried.

  Most people would have kept their last bit of money, but she’d seen him there, starving, looking unkempt. Her apartment had been paid up for another month, so ramen noodles were not a problem. She always wanted to help others. Then of course, John came out of nowhere.

  His uniform had been so dashing, and when he’d looked at her, or at least the way he looked at her, she’d been on fire for him, and it hadn’t stopped.

  Of course, they’d been married for eight years before she thought about having a baby. They talked about having kids often, but they wanted to enjoy each other. The timing hadn’t been right. Then she’d stopped the pill, and for over a year and a half, nothing.

  John arranged the appointments
at the hospital, and the news they’d been given had shattered their world. He’d not been the same since, and sex … he’d not wanted anything from her.

  The lights were always off, and he got on, rutted about a little, and that was it.

  She’d never felt so … lonely before.

  He’d stopped by the day care center where he caught her with the kids, and she’d seen that look in his eyes. The one that seemed to always look a little guilty. She’d felt bad.

  Yes, she wanted kids, but not like this.

  Not at the expense of losing John. She’d rather not have any.

  Putting the lasagna on his plate with some salad, she handed it to him, which he took, thanking her.

  “Don’t even think of putting that green shit on my plate.”

  She turned to Gunner. Even with all of his MC leather on and looking deadly like he could kill a man with his bare hands, she always found him sweet. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She rolled her eyes and served him up an extra slice. “Enjoy.”

  “I will.”

  After serving herself a modest piece, she sat down. John had asked Gunner to sit at the head of the table, where John usually sat. She was on one side while John was on the other. She stared across, facing him, and her cheeks heated.

  John was staring at her.

  She couldn’t decipher the look though.

  Glancing from him to Gunner, she smiled. Taking a bite of the lasagna, she couldn’t taste a thing.

  The tension in the room seemed to rise, and she was thankful when he’d said that Gunner was coming to visit and they had work to do.

  “How is the club?” she asked, trying to find something to distract herself with. She knew the club wasn’t a hundred percent legal. Even John warned her against being at the club without him or Gunner there.

  She didn’t like this.

  Her love for John was absolute. There was nothing she wanted more than to be with him. Only it seemed kids were a sticking point with him.

  Slowly, he’d been pushing her away, and they were in this rut that she couldn’t get out of. She felt at times like she was drowning. Most nights she lay awake, listening to him sleep, wondering if he was waiting for the moment to kick her out.

  They’d had arguments over the years, moments where nothing seemed to go their way, but afterward they’d made love and been better for it.