by J. L. Leslie
“Now, how quickly can we get more women?” Thad asks, only silent for a few moments, and looks in the rearview mirror to Sully.
“We do the jobs once per quarter.” she answers. “It’ll be a while.”
“Unacceptable.” he grumbles. “Get on the fucking phone with Juan.”
“We should focus on following through with our plan to get the Ravens off our back. Get them after the Drycos.” I interrupt. “We also need to recruit some more prospects. Boost our numbers. The Ravens damn near killed the two prospects with their attack and they left Jason injured. Our numbers are the lowest they’ve ever been.”
“We have some friends getting released tomorrow, but I agree. Still, I want that fucking money and this bitch…”
The headlights in Thad’s window seem to appear out of nowhere. I don’t have time to register what’s happening before our Tahoe is hit and I’m slung against the door. Glass shatters into the vehicle and the whiskey Thad had in his cup spills everywhere. If it weren’t for my seatbelt, I would be thrown to the ceiling as we flip. Over and over.
The Tahoe skids to a stop and the sound it makes as metal scrapes over pavement is indescribable. I don’t know how many times we’ve flipped or if Sully is even okay before we grind to a stop. I don’t give a shit about Thad.
I wince and blink a few times before finding my seatbelt release. I crumple to the roof of the Tahoe. My window is busted out so I maneuver my way out of it. The Tahoe is fucking totaled.
“Sully!” I yell and crawl on all fours to the other side of the vehicle. “Sully!”
Thad is out cold, but Sully is moaning and coming to. I attempt to pry the door open, but it’s stuck.
“Don’t fucking move.”
I still at the hard voice behind me. I slowly turn around, raising my hands as I do. Diesel and the security guard, Jeb, who I stabbed the day we robbed them, stand before me, guns raised.
“I need to get her out.” I choke out. “Then do what you want with me.”
~Sully~
My head pounds and my eyes are heavy. I don’t want to open them, but I know that I need to. I don’t know who hit us or if they’re okay. I hear Lincoln calling my name so I have to fight!
I shift and struggle to get free from my seatbelt. When I do, I look out the cracked window and gasp. Lincoln is on his knees and Diesel has a gun to his forehead.
With all the energy I have left, I slam both hands against the glass. I push against the door, anything so that I can get out. Diesel must sense my desperation because he motions for the man with him to help me. When the door opens, I crawl out.
“Please! Please, don’t!” I beg. “It’s him you want! It’s Thad!”
I fling my hand towards the crumpled Tahoe, pointing my finger at Thad, who is still not moving. Diesel looks down at Lincoln. I risk glancing around, wondering why I haven’t heard sirens yet, but then I remember that we hadn’t seen headlights for miles.
“I’ve known you damn near your entire life, boy. What you did wasn’t you.” he states and Lincoln nods. “Me and that piece of shit have history. Was he behind the robbery?”
I plead with Lincoln to tell the truth. Not to sacrifice himself for Thad. He doesn’t deserve it.
“I’m a Ryker, Diesel.” Lincoln answers, stubbornly, and Diesel hits him with the butt of the gun.
Lincoln braces himself with his hands for a moment, spitting out blood, then he sits back up to his knees. At that moment, a car drives by and I feel a sense of hope, but then they keep driving. Of course, they wouldn’t want any trouble. It’s late and they can clearly see that something isn’t right with this situation. Lincoln clears his throat before answering, “I’m a Ryker, Diesel, and we always follow our president’s orders.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as Diesel lowers his gun. I scurry over to Lincoln and throw my arms around his neck, knocking him down to a seated position.
“Don’t get too fucking happy.” Diesel hisses and motions towards the Tahoe. “Light him up.”
I’m confused, but Lincoln seems to know what Diesel is talking about. He extracts my arms from his neck and slowly stands. I watch him pull his lighter from his pocket and seeing it reminds me that I haven’t seen him smoking much lately. I realize that’s an odd thought for me to have as he walks towards the Tahoe.
“Wait!” I scream, scrambling to my feet. I grab Lincoln’s arm, but he brushes me off. “No! No, this will never work! Diesel!”
“Not my fucking problem!” Diesel growls.
“What if…what if we give you something more!” I offer, but Lincoln keeps walking towards Thad. “What if we give you the Drycos?”
Diesel and his friend laugh at this like it’s the most absurd offer they’ve ever heard. Even Lincoln stops walking and looks at me as though I’ve grown a second head. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I know the Rykers would never believe Thad died in a car crash that we survived with only cuts and bruises. Lincoln and I would both be dead. Diesel knows that too.
“Sully, it’s fine. This can all be over.” Lincoln assures me and I can hear it in his voice that he knows.
“No!” I argue and turn to Diesel. “Give us a few weeks. We’ll take them down and if you still want Thad dead, I’ll make sure that fucking happens if I have to do it myself.”
Diesel stops laughing, looking between the two of us. “I like her, Linc. She reminds me a little of Raiden.” He glances at his friend and I see his friend shrug. “I’ll give you a month. Then I want Thad’s head delivered on a damn silver platter.”
“You have my word.” I promise him and watch them both leave moments before I hear sirens. I suppose the car did do something for us after all.
Now, I have to come up with a plan to keep my word to Diesel without getting myself killed. Thad stirs and calls out and hearing his voice again fills me with regret. Seeing him covered in flames would’ve been easier than taking down the Drycos.
Chapter Nineteen
~Lincoln~
I hate it here. The smell. The lights. Everything about it makes my skin crawl. I look at the Rykers lining the hallway and I imagine it looked much the same when I was here. I imagine the nurses were on edge, just like they are now.
Thad was brought in a couple of hours ago and he’s in surgery. I’m certain if he dies on the table, Diesel will still hold Sully and I to the arrangement she offered. I haven’t been able to ask her what the fuck she was thinking. How does she plan on dismantling the Drycos? They’ve been around longer than the Rykers.
“I have an update on Thad Harrison.” Raiden states as she comes around the corner.
Everyone looks around, unsure of who is supposed to step forward and receive the information. Jason is still recovering back at the clubhouse and I would normally consider him to be our second-in-command, but now I have to step into the position I know Thad is expecting me to eventually hold.
Raiden grips her clipboard to her chest and walks with confidence towards me. Maybe it’s because she knows me or maybe it’s because she believes I’m the Ryker to talk to.
“Thad is currently in recovery. He came through the surgery just fine so there is no need for concern. He had a busted spleen so the doctor removed it. There was no internal bleeding that we saw and no other injuries. He’ll be under observation for a couple of days and then released if there are no complications. Do you have any questions for me at this time?” Raiden asks.
“No, we don’t. Thanks.”
Raiden smiles and extends her hand. “Please feel free to go to the nurses’ station should you have any questions or concerns.”
I look down at her hand and I can feel my fellow members’ eyes on me. I reluctantly take her hand and shake it, showing the Rykers that I can be a leader and show control in these types of situations. As her hand pulls away, the folded piece of paper she’s holding slips into mine. I cover my confusion quickly and close my hand, not allowing anyone to see what she’s done. I shove the paper into my poc
ket.
“A busted spleen?” Sully whispers into my ear. “That’s it?”
I can hear the humor in her voice. I turn my head towards her and her lips graze over my cheek. I hear her breath catch in her throat. Her grip on my arm tightens. Why the fuck haven’t I kissed this woman?
“Why don’t I get Sabrina to come get you? You should get some sleep.” I offer and I see the hurt in her eyes, but it’s too late for me to do anything about it.
She slips out of my jacket, the same tuxedo one I had on at the party, and tosses it at me before walking down the hall. Instead of pulling it on, I throw it over one of the chairs and stalk towards the bathroom.
With Sully gone, I’m even more anxious to read the note in my pocket and get out of this hospital. I close the door to a stall and unfold the paper. The neat handwriting obviously does not belong to my brother. It must be Raiden’s.
I don’t know Raiden well enough to know if I trust her or not. I can only give her credit for saving me life. What she’s asking me to do doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t owe Griffin Knowles shit.
But the last four words on her note make me uncomfortable. There’s been enough betrayal lately. If he knows something, I want to fucking know what it is.
You have a rat.
~Sully~
How dare he suggest Sabrina come pick me up? Fuck, after what I just did with Diesel and he still wants her! I don’t get it.
I unzip my dress and toss it on the bed. Thad’s bed. The thought of going to Lincoln’s apartment didn’t seem right. So, I came here and I still feel like an outsider. I rummage through the dresser and find the jeans and t-shirt I left here. I pull them on and head outside to the shop.
I’m annoyed with my own behavior. Annoyed that I’ve allowed Lincoln Varelli into my head. Believing him when he apologized about killing my dad. Even if he’s not really my dad. Craving the compliment of him telling me he liked my scent. Yearning to hear him moan my name when he comes.
It’s just sex. That’s all it is to him and it’s all it should be to me. I never should have started believing it was more. He still has Sabrina. She’s drop dead gorgeous and I know she’ll allow him to put his dick in any crevice of her body. Why would he give that up?
I close the shop door and turn the radio on. It’s still set to my favorite station and I immediately begin humming along to a familiar soft rock song. The engine Cal and I were rebuilding is still sitting on the work table in the far corner. It hasn’t been touched since Cal died. Maybe piddling with it will get my mind off Lincoln.
Before I start working though, my phone rings. Katy. I answer, anxious to hear from him and hopeful that he’s calling with good news.
“You okay?” he asks the moment I answer. “I was informed of an accident.”
“I’m fine. No fatalities.” Unfortunately.
“You’re right. This is getting too dangerous for you. It’s time to end it.” Katy states. “I’ll come meet with you soon. Be ready to turn over everything.”
“Everything?”
“Is that a problem?” he clips and I feel myself hesitating.
“Of course not.”
I hold the phone to my ear for a few seconds after the line goes dead. Maybe I’m surprised he’s finally coming after all this time. I was with Cal six months when I made my very first phone call to him. He told me I didn’t have enough evidence to convince him to come. He needed more. He’s always needed more.
I focus on the engine before me and start thinking about everything I’ll be turning over to Katy. Drugs, prostitution, theft, assault, murder.
The members I’ve called family for so long will be going down for these crimes. What will happen to the old ladies? The club whores? Will they go down too?
Then there’s Lincoln. Sucked into this life he never wanted by Cal and now possibly on his way into becoming president. He’s definitely adapted well, but deep down, I know this isn’t who he really is. Even if he was willing to burn a man alive.
Chapter Twenty
~Lincoln~
I knew I would find her here. When it comes to the clubhouse, I’ve learned this is her safe haven. I’m ready to take her home.
I’ve been at the hospital long enough. Thad was doing fine when I left. He’s under the guard of four Rykers that I assigned to keep watch. I’m not needed there.
I walk into the shop and Sully has changed from her dress into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She’s wiping down Cal’s bike. I think it’s safe to call it her bike now. It officially looks nothing like his bike anymore. Music plays from the radio on the shelf and I vaguely recognize the song. Something about angels on the moon.
“What song is this?” I ask her, not even startling her.
“Angels on the Moon.” she answers, standing with her hands on her hips. Exactly what I thought. She holds the dishrag in one and I can see that she’s still annoyed with me for the whole Sabrina comment.
She turns back to face the bike with an eye roll. Yep, still annoyed. I come to stand behind her, tossing the rag onto the floor. I sing the words into her ear, completely out of tune, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“You heading home?” she questions, leaning back against me despite her anger, and I nod my answer.
I slip my hand beneath her t-shirt and flatten my palm over her skin as I move it up her stomach to the lace of her bra.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” Sully asks, reaching her hand back to caress my face. “I mean, Sabrina’s probably inside.”
I grind my hardening cock against her backside and grin. “Can’t you tell?”
Sully laughs, the sound throaty and husky. “That’s not all though.” she whispers and her tone grows serious. “Do you want this? The presidency. You were a leader tonight, Lincoln. Everyone saw that.”
I rest my head against hers. The lyrics to the song playing in my ears. Don’t tell me if I’m dying. Cause I don’t wanna know. I don’t want to think that I’m making a mistake. Not about the Rykers and not about Sully.
Right now, in this moment, I feel like I’m living and doing what I’m supposed to be doing. That somehow, I’m going to make something right. I’m going to make things better. I have no idea why I have this feeling or if it’s all bullshit.
I might wind up burning in my home like Haley or with my guts cut out like Walt Turley. Shit, I might wind up with my head blown off like our own man, Fred Matthews.
“It’s the choice I’m supposed to make right now.” I answer, honestly.
Sully turns to face me, her blue eyes searching me, filled with concern. “I need to tell you something.”
Her statement sounds more like a confession. Like whatever it is she has to tell me will be devastating to us both. I’ve had enough fucking devastation.
As the man sings about dreaming of angels on the moon, I lean down and taste her lips for the first time.
~Sully~
I’m soaring. My feet can’t possibly be on the floor, but I know they are. I’m still standing, but my heart is fluttering in my chest so much that it feels as though I’m flying. It almost hurts. So much emotion, it almost hurts.
Lincoln’s lips move over mine so softly, but yet with such intensity. He’s drawing me into him and I know he’s taking a piece of me. I don’t know how big or small it is, but I know I’ll never get it back. Not ever.
I was going to tell him. I was going to tell him who I am. I am an undercover FBI agent. Almost. I’m working with the FBI. I’m working with them to bring down the Rykers. I’m working with them to bring down the club you’re now going to be the president of.
I’m not Caroline Sullivan. Sully. That’s not me. I’m not a Rykers’ old lady. I’m not your old lady.
But then he kissed me. I’ve been waiting on this kiss. I’ve thought about it. I’ve yearned for it. I’ve needed it. Now, I’m lost. Lost in the feel of his lips on mine. The touch of his tongue on mine. Lost in him.
My jeans hit my ankles and I push th
em off. Lincoln breaks the kiss long enough to pull my tee over my head. I do the same with his. I look at his side, admiring the dragon tattoo and I give in to the temptation I’ve had since I first saw it. I lick his skin, feeling the heat of it underneath my tongue. Then I drop to my knees.
Lincoln’s dick bulges against his zipper. I unbutton his pants and the moment he’s free, I encase the velvety tip with my lips, sucking him greedily. For some reason, every time I’m around this man I find myself wanting his dick in my mouth. As I suck him, I know the radio is still on, but I can no longer hear the music, only his groans.
His cock is warm and salty in my mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue. I stroke him with my hands and lightly graze my teeth over his skin, just enough to illicit a hiss from him. Then I stand and let him guide me into the position he wants to fuck me in.
Lincoln turns me around, my back to him, and bends me over Cal’s bike. I rest my elbows on the leather seat and arch my back so that my ass is in the air and aimed at his glistening cock.
He runs his calloused hands over my back, their roughness causing goosebumps to rise over my skin. I know those rough hands have been used to cause so much damage. To the Rykers, those hands have been used to be a drug dealer, a thief, an enforcer, and worst of all…a murderer.
To me, they’re my healer, my pleaser, my lover.
Lincoln slaps the seat of the bike and I jump. “Who does this belong to now?”
I bite my bottom lip. “Cal.”
He grips my hair and tugs my head back, my scalp stinging. He rubs his palm over my ass and then delivers a smack that jolts me forward against the cold leather of the motorcycle seat. My pussy clenches and nearly drips with need.
Lincolns leans forward and whispers in my ears, “Baby, whose bike is this?”
“It’s mine.” I grit out.
“Good girl. Drive it home tonight.” he answers, clearly pleased. He grabs one of my hands and pulls it back so that it rests on his cock. I wrap my fingers around his girth. “Whose cock is this?”
