by Kiki Leach
"Yeah, darlin'." He bobbed his head as she made her way outside and fell into his arms.
Tractor stepped back and pointed behind himself. "Gonna head inside with these other assholes," he said. "Talk with you about this other shit later."
He winked at Mariah before whirling on the ball of his foot and pacing toward the club.
She watched until he moved out of sight and shivered. "What the hell was that about?"
"Too fuckin' much as usual." Xavier snaked his arms around her waist and lowered his hands to the small of her back, pushing his fingers beneath her fitted-T and caressing his name across her skin. "Asshole's got a few ideas rattlin' around inside his head that I can't wrap around my own."
She lifted her head from his chest and curiously arched her brows. "What kind of ideas?"
"'Bout you and this 2%."
"Oh." She leaned away from him and sat on top of the picnic table. "Regardless of what Gabi told you, we're still not exactly sure that those contracts are actually in my name, X."
"The brothers are gonna find out one way or another tonight, darlin'." He stepped in front of her and lifted his hands to her face; he brushed her cheeks as her eyes lifted and her head dipped. "If the shit's true, how do you feel 'bout bein' an extended member of the Devils? Officially?"
She pinched her mouth and looked aside. "Do I get my own cut?"
"You'd get to keep wearin' mine with nothin' underneath." He snickered. "But you'd get some of what we earn -- enough to keep you from goin' back to dancin' while also keepin' you in school."
"I would take every ounce of that I could get if it were true, Xavier."
His brows knit as his shoulders sagged. "I feel somethin' else comin' along with that, darlin'."
"Your brothers aren't going to let me have that 2% free and clear, X; we both know it to be the truth." She lowered her voice and inhaled. "Is that what Tractor was talking to you about?" His eyes closed as he nodded. "What does he want if I keep this hypothetical 2%?"
"Wants us to get married."
She guffawed. "To what?"
"He wants a guarantee that the 2% stays within the club; said he can't have you runnin' off like before. I already know the shit for a goddamn fact, but he won't be convinced without legal proof, darlin'. If your girl wasn't lyin'...."
She pressed her palms against the back of his hands and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't want you to propose to me on the condition of your club. We're just now getting back to where we should've been before I left. I don't want to mess it up based on fear." She dragged one of his hands alongside her throat and rested it atop her anxiously beating heart. "You can tell Tractor and anyone else willing to listen that I'm not going anywhere, Xavier -- never again. I'll sign what I need to in order to make it a fact, but marriage shouldn't be an option for us right now. He just needs to know that I'm staying here with you for as long as you'll still have me."
"Baby, I'm always gonna want you. For goddamn ever."
She smiled as he brought his hand back to her face and gently squeezed her cheeks, forcing her mouth into a pout. Her hands dropped to the pockets of his hoodie as she yanked him between her legs; she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue as he bent forward and parted his own, kissing her until his cock nearly ripped through his jeans.
"Fuck, baby -- You sleepin' in the apartment by yourself tonight?" he asked.
She wagged her head and muttered. "There are six other girls in that room with their children tonight, Xavier."
"Shit." His tongue deepened as his hands dipped to her breasts. She moaned and stroked his penis through his pants as his thumbs caressed her nipples through her shirt, then yanked at his buckle and pinched his zipper. "Fuck, darlin', you want it out here?"
"I want you."
"Goddamn."
"XAVIER!" He stopped moving as Boone called to him from the club and pulled away from Mariah.
"Christ." His eyes moved behind her as Tractor and Cheddar returned to the parking lot. "What the fuck is goin' on?" he asked.
"Flex just called, brother," said Cheddar. "Wantin' a meet-up to 'discuss' some shit."
"Where?"
"Motherfucker claims to be headin' out to ACE'S with some of the other Kings right goddamn now."
"Fuck."
"Yep."
"We need to start movin'," said Boone. "Need to get the rest gathered up and prepared for his shit."
"Did he say anything 'bout what the fuck he wants to try sharin' 'fore the obvious attempt to take us out?" asked Xavier.
"Hinted some shit about those separate contracts," replied Tractor. "Also said somethin' about those recordin's Rocka had with the tapes from that classroom."
X eyed Boone as he gulped. "Does Flex know what's on 'em yet?"
"He wouldn't say, but I'm guessin' not, just like the contracts," said Boone. "Motherfucker's been playin' around the goddamn bush for entirely too fuckin' long to know anything he's claimin'; scare tactic bullshit thinkin' we're stupid. We just need to know that goin' out there is gonna end with 'em dead and outta Pink for good, or us dead and them ownin' our shit. Which is it gonna fuckin' be?"
"We're endin' these motherfuckers, Prez." Cheddar looked at each of his brothers and crushed his fist into the palm of his other hand. "One way or another, somebody's goin' down tonight and it won't be one of us."
"Alright. Then let's start gettin' to it and round each other up. "
As Boone, Tractor and Cheddar strolled back into the club in search of their remaining brothers, Mariah jumped back to the ground and tugged Xavier's clothes.
"Leave your hoodie back here with me," she said. "I want to wear it while you're gone."
"I'm comin' back here to you, darlin'."
"I know..." Her eyes fell as uncertainty ruled her thoughts. "But I want to feel close to you in the meantime."
"Shit smells like cigarettes, booze and weed, Mariah."
"I don't care."
He gradually unzipped until it opened and draped it across her shoulders. As she pushed her arms into the sleeves and lifted her hair over the hood, he laughed to himself and pulled at the strings dangling from her waist.
"It's damn near got you swallowed whole," he said.
"It's yours," she told him. "And all that matters to me right now."
His head bobbed as he rolled his tongue along his bottom lip. "I want this to be the only thing I see you wearin' when I get back here, yeah? Like a goddamn reward."
She nodded as he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest. She rested her hands against him and quickly accepted the probing of his tongue as it rediscovered her mouth; accepted the deliciously delightful taste of love pouring from his lips as they moved in sync with her own.
"I love you so much, Xavier," she muttered against his tongue. "So much that it almost hurts."
"I know, darlin'--"
"I need you to be safe tonight." She pulled at his cut, deepening their kiss. "I need you to come back to me whole."
"Always, baby." He continued kissing her until his breath nearly gave out, unsure if he could fulfill his promise, then moved his hands to her behind and pressed his lower half against her groin. "Every bit of my goddamn life is gonna be with you tonight, darlin'. The thought of us growin' old together, me wrinkled as fuck and you still lookin' perfect, is gonna be what keeps me safe."
"Promise me, Xavier."
"Fuckin' promise you, Mariah. Just like always."
His fingers brushed across the small of her back for a second time; across the colors of her tattoo bearing the only name he ever wanted her to have before he spun away and returned to the club in preparation for a battle he was unconvinced they could win.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Xavier
"We still gonna act fuckin' dumb on the fact that this motherfucker only wanted a handful of us out here instead of the whole goddamn club?" Rugger leaned across the bar and gripped the base of his glock as Prez, Tractor and Xavier made t
heir way downstairs with a pair of old duffle bags full of Rocka's refurbished rifles and pistols. "I mean, it is obvious as shit that this motherfucker has been settin' up to have us rolled the fuck outta our own goddamn pussy factory tonight."
"What's obvious is that you can't stop runnin' your goddamn mouth with all these fuckin' theories," said Tractor. "All the way here inside the van, nothin' but yakety -- motherfuckin' yak. Why the fuck do you think we got Cheddar and Coco back out there triple checkin' our shit to make sure we don't come up on the other side of this thing with those assholes?"
"They might need to quadruple fuckin' check, VP." He stood up straight, placing his glock on top of the bar as Tractor glared. He opened his hands and lifted his shoulders, wagging his head. "I'm only sayin' what the fuck everybody else is most likely thinkin' up in here."
"I ain't thinkin' shit," muttered Poke as he stood away from the bar and rummaged between duffle’s.
"Same goes for me." Rider snapped his fingers and jumped off stage, joining his brothers in search of rifles and clips. "My mind ain't with you on this shit either, brother."
His eyes flipped between them as he sneered. "Fuck the both of you dick shrinkin' assholes."
"HEY," Prez snarled. "It sounds like you're the only motherfucker thinkin' this shit."
"I'm the only one sayin' it. They just might be too afraid right now, Prez--"
"They ain't." He swung his hand around the room and peered. "Everybody else understands why even if that asshole lunatic didn't want small numbers to go against him and his club, we still needed the majority of our brothers back at the compound lookin' after our women and their kids."
"Prez is right, brother," said Xavier. "We needed more eyes out there than here in case this loony prick decided to have us fucked up elsewhere. Not to mention, with LapDog still havin' that prospect on his dick, we can keep tabs on when the fuck they'll actually make themselves known within the area. They see too many motherfuckers on our side and would start shootin' up again 'fore we could make our next move."
"Here." Tractor reached into one of the duffle’s for a handful of pistols and bullets, then walked to the bar and placed them next to Rugger's glock. "Start fillin' up these motherfuckers like the pussy I've seen you boppin' around with out there lately in case we need extra ammo, and shut your goddamn mouth already."
"Hey, Prez." Cheddar stormed through the back of the club with Coco at his side and took a seat near the stage. "We're definitely still clear out there -- nothin' was picked up on the trackers or cams."
"You're fuckin' sure?" he asked.
"Yep." Coco nodded. "Van's locked up in the garage with the bikes and the area's still empty as fuck."
"Alright, good."
"Any word from LapDog and his cock suckin' bitch yet?" asked Cheddar.
Xavier wagged his head. "But the prick shoulda called me up with somethin' by now, yeah?" He eyed Prez and lifted his brow, then reached into his back pocket for a burner. "Think I should hit up Big Tech and see what the fuck might be goin' on."
He dialed as the lights suddenly flickered before shutting off, leaving them in the thick of darkness.
"What the fuck?!" Tractor reached for his glock and rushed forward.
Prez glanced aside as a bright orange light and pieces of shrapnel suddenly whizzed past the corner of his eye, then dropped to the floor and hollered. "BROTHER, NO!"
Tractor turned on his heel as six Molotov cocktails crashed through the windows and front door. "SHIT!"
When a roll of flames washed across the floor, lighting up bar stools and licking the edges of his boots, Xavier lept forward and yanked onto the back his VP's cut. "LET'S GO!"
After running through the club and reaching the back door, the brothers fell outside and into the dirt, clutching their chests and covering mouths in an attempt to catch their breath as clouds of smoke poured into their lungs.
Cheddar jumped back to his feet before the rest and coughed while facing the building as flames sparked the stage and poll before curling to the roof. "WHERE THE FUCK ARE THESE ASSHOLES?!" he hollered, spittle flying from his mouth as he kicked the dirt with the heel of his boot.
"RIGHT GODDAMN HERE, MOTHERFUCKER. SURPRISE!"
He turned at the low, heavy sound of Chute's voice, an overly large member of the Kings with a pair of fists that felt like lead.
Before another word flew out of his mouth, Chute slammed his right fist into the corner of Cheddar's jaw, fracturing a set of bones as he knocked him back down to the ground and smashed another fist into his groin. "AHHHHHHH!" Cheddar reached for himself and rolled aside, then grit his teeth as the sole of Chute's boot crashed into the back of his skull, nearly knocking him unconscious. His eyes bugged from his head as he searched for the presence of his brothers; his fingers cracked as another sole belonging to Flex suddenly landed on top of his hand.
"You rang from all the way down there, motherfucker?" Small in weight but not in stature, a high-pitched Flex adjusted the rim of his pants and lapels of his cut before sliding a pair of fingers inside the corners of his mouth and blowing a solid whistle to call for the remaining members of his club.
As the other Devils returned to balance and reached into their cuts for on-hand Glocks, they pointed at six other members of the Kings making their way behind ACE'S. Each man appeared before them with a gun in one hand and the other clutched around the necks of clear bottles filled with clear liquid and cube-sized pieces of paper floating across the surface.
Prez shoved between his brothers as sparks from the roof burned to the ground and stood directly in front of Flex as smoke poured from the vents and back door. "What the FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!" He lifted the muzzle between Flex's eyes and tapped his finger against the trigger. "You tryin' to BLOW OUR ASSES UP AGAIN?! NO FAIR FUCKIN' FIGHT THIS TIME EITHER, MOTHERFUCKER -- YOU TOO PUSSY FOR THAT SHIT?!" he screamed, his face burning red as his eyes twitched with anger.
A mohawk sporting Flex turned his head to the side and wiped his face of excess spit. As his dark brown eyes flashed with ire, he sneered. "You need to chill the fuck out on this shit old man, alright? Now we thought to come out here to try and make some kinda fuckin' peace with your club. Didn't think the shit was possible after learnin' what we did, so we backed the fuck off on the way."
"What the fuck does any of this shit do for your ass?" called Xavier. "Burnin' down ACE'S when your loony asses own the same goddamn amount as us?"
"Wouldn't matter if your bitch didn't own that 2%," he returned. "By the way, how's she doin' back at your clubhouse right about now, X -- Do you know? Maybe you should try callin' her up with your dick while the rest of us get shit handled out here."
"How the fuck do you know about Mariah's 2%, asshole?" asked Tractor.
"How the fuck else? A few pumps up the ass and down the throat of that deep pussied lawyer bitch belongin' to that Pugh motherfucker, and I was well on my way to adoptin' her first goddamn born. Bitch can suck a dick like a motherfuckin' pro. Don't think any of that shit woulda made her old prick too happy, but who the fuck cares now, yeah? You killin' that fuck outright left me with enough time to get my other shit together, such as comin' out here and gettin' you fucked with bare rods. OH, and I'm burnin' any traces of Mariah with the contracts ripped to goddamn shreds inside these bottles here so that the 2% can go back to Rocka and eventually the Kings."
"The shit don't automatically go back to your ass!" hollered Poke while continuing to catch his balance as his ears rang from the sudden explosion of liquor bottles inside.
"Yeah it will, asshole." Flex grinned. "My crew here is good as fuck at forgery and with your bunch bein' sent off to prison soon, well--"
"What the fuck are you talkin' 'bout prison?!" yelled Xavier.
"I'm talkin' about three dead bodies back at Hotel Lavender," he replied. "I'm talkin' about the anonymous tip to the police that sounded alot like that hot piece of loose pussy I'd managed to be all up inside before she finally took the fuck off at the demand of
your other asshole tonight."
Tractor wagged his head as more smoke flushed the tips of his ears. "THAT FUCKIN' BITCH!"
"Yeah, she was -- but a good fuckin' lay all the goddamn same. Her tip led the cops to the hotel and should, right about now, be leadin' straight to the doorstep of your club. Now, I'd fuckin' kill you assholes along with the son of a bitch still wigglin' beneath my goddamn shoe if I thought the shit would get me farther than it has already, but I need you white trash fucks behind bars in order to get what my club needs movin' forward."
"Your goddamn club is a motherfuckin' menace to goddamn society!" hollered Rugger.
"And yours is about to blow the fuck up for good." He blew another whistle, ordering his crew to drop lit matches into each of their bottles before smashing them into the building, extending and expanding flames until wood exteriors cracked and glass melted inside the windows. "We will burn this shit up and FUCKIN' REBUILD!" he said, his maniacal voice rattling with excitement as his eyes rolled into his head. "We get you motherfuckers OUT for good -- outta your fuckin' clubs, outta fuckin' Pink... get that dirty skinned BITCH thrown into another cell with some fresh, pink pussy ready to rip hers to fuckin' shreds for what the fuck she did to T-Bone--!"
Xavier darted forward and slammed into Flex and Chute, forcing them to fall away from Cheddar and hit the ground. As their heads bounced against the dirt and Cheddar rolled to his stomach, the other Kings and Devils reacted with violence, attacking each other with flying fists and swinging knives in place of fallen, discharged Glocks while ACE'S crumbled beneath a wash of flames.
"Where the fuck are those goddamn tapes?" Xavier latched onto the collar of Flex's cut and lifted his head from the dirt.
The asshole chortled and turned aside as small drops of blood oozed from a fresh crack at the crown of his skull. "Eager as fuck to know what's been said--?"
"WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE GODDAMN TAPES?" he said again. "I ask this shit for a third fuckin' time and it's gonna be followed by your ass havin' a gutted goddamn tongue."
