The Vice President

by Addy Archer

  “Yeah.” Linc slides his fingers through his spiky brown hair and gives us a shy smile, reminding me he’s still a boyish kid. “She’s doing better with each day passing. She’s started to talk back and yanking my chain and shit.”

  “Yanking your chain, huh?” Alaric snickers. “Careful, prospect. We already have one of that fucker’s daughters pregnant.”

  “Shut up,” Linc growls. “It’s not like that.”

  Alaric shoots him a grin. “Now I’m the one yanking your chain, Linc. Keep doing what you’re doing. Hunt, can you talk some more with your old lady? See if she’s still in touch with her grandfather? With a little luck, the old fucker is still president and is willing to help with our situation. I’m waiting to hear back from Stone. As soon as we have more intel, we’ll call a meeting and get things rolling. I want this handled as soon as possible. I don’t want any risks hanging over our old ladies, understood?”

  “Understood,” both me and Linc grunt in sync.

  The door swings open, and Peyton is standing there with a bewildered look on her face. She glances over her shoulder, steps inside church, and closes the door behind her.

  “Sorry. I know I’m not supposed to be here, but look.” She holds out her phone, and there’s a message from her brother.

  STONE:

  Ears.

  Re—

  Whores.

  “Fuck,” I snap and add a few more curses before I explain to the others. “It’s not hard to figure out his message. The ears part is Stone’s telling us they know. This means Re—is Retaliation. With him saying whores, I’m pretty damn sure they will hit the whorehouse. We need to get there as soon as possible. We might be too late already.”

  “Linc, get everyone in here. Now,” Alaric thunders, and Linc jumps up and rushes out the door.

  Peyton has a devastated look on her face, and her chest is rising and falling heavily. I step closer and cup her face. “You did good, babe. I need you to stay here. Linc will stay behind, right, Alaric?”

  Alaric rubs a hand over his face. “No, I’m thinking Dog, Brewer, Neo, and all the prospects need to stay behind. We can’t leave our old ladies behind with just a single prospect, VP.”

  I give him a tight nod. “You’re right. I’ll be right back.”

  Placing my hand on Peyton’s upper arm, I guide her out the door and head for my room. Once inside, I can’t help myself and crash my mouth to hers. There’s a moment of hesitation before she opens and slides her tongue against mine. My cock twitches, and my damn body feels like it’s set on fire.

  All too soon, I pull back and place my forehead against hers. “I need to go. Stay here. Whatever the fuck happens, you stay right here.” I stalk to my closet and grab a box on the top shelf. I grab the backup gun I have stashed in there and hand it over to her. “You keep that close, and anyone who comes barging in here who isn’t wearing a Rebel Rage MC cut, you don’t hesitate but fucking shoot. Understood? No words; bullets. I want you safe and alive.”

  “Got it. Now go,” she says with a stern voice and pushes me away but grabs hold of my cut to stop me just as fast. “Oh, and you should stay safe too.” The worry in her voice surprises me, and when I look into her eyes, they instantly hit the floor and she adds shyly, “You know, because of your little girl and all of course.”

  The corner of my mouth twitches. “Of course.” I place my finger underneath her chin and tip her head back so she has no other choice but to look at me. “Raven, you, and the little one growing in your belly. I will make sure to return home because I just claimed you. One day I hope to have a solid and real family with our kids. No doubt, only honesty and respect. The hating me part I get, but just know I will fight for a shot to make shit real between us. I owe it to the tiny human we created, and my daughter deserves to have a shot at having—” My throat clogs up, and I have to cut off the shit I was going to say.

  “Okay,” Peyton’s voice is filled with emotion. “We’ll give it a shot to make things real between us. But I still think you’re an asshole.”

  The way she’s looking at me, I have no clue if the asshole remark was a tease or truth. But for now, I’m relishing in the fact we both agree to give it a shot to make things real between us. I take her mouth in a rough kiss one more time before I stalk out and head for church.

  We’ve decided it’s best to split up. Me and Alaric, along with a handful of others, are heading for the whorehouse Lexi runs for us. A few of our guys are going to swing by the other two whorehouses we own. Those are low-key and not as big as the one Lexi runs, hence the reason most of us head for the big one.

  It’s the one Xandra was working for, and she’s the one who stole the coke from Romero. Seeing Romero was connected to both the cartel and Trigger Pull MC, it’s not so hard to guess that’s their first strike when it comes to retaliation. When we finally get there, nothing seems out of place. The parking lot is crowded, and a girl welcomes us when we step inside. A normal night, or so it seems.

  “Where’s Lexi?” Alaric rumbles in a harsh tone.

  The girl swallows hard and points up. “She went to her office with a man who came here about ten or maybe twenty minutes ago.”

  We rush up the stairs. I’m right behind Alaric when he tries to open the door to Lexi’s office, but it’s locked. He steps aside, giving me the room to kick in the door. Two hard kicks and the thing bursts open.

  The sight before us? Fuck. My eye catches movement, and I head for the window. Dammit. There’s a fire escape, and the fucker is leaving this way. Thin, ugly motherfucker. It takes some effort to push my large body through the window and down the stairs, but when the asshole is almost at the last few steps, I kick my legs up and jump through the air, making sure my feet hit his back as we both crash to the ground.

  He’s quick and crawls to his feet, but my elbow finds his eye flawlessly. Dammit. The fucker has a knife, and I don’t have the time to even hiss from the way the blade nicks the skin of my side. I grab his wrist and manage to bend it at an odd angle, bringing his arm to his back while I push my full weight on the guy.

  Alaric comes running toward me with a handful of zip ties. He helps me tie this asshole’s wrists and ankles before we stash him into an awaiting car. Alaric gives two of our brothers the order to take him to the warehouse where we always have things set up for when we have a situation we need to deal with.

  “Fuck,” Alaric roars and stalks back into the whorehouse.

  I follow him, my body still pumping with the adrenaline from chasing one of the cartel’s hitmen.

  I grab Alaric’s shoulder, suddenly realizing how easy it was to catch the skilled killer. “Was this fucker alone? I recognize him from when he was at Peyton’s house throwing damn knives. He was the one who hurt the fucking kitten. He had others with him then.”

  “I don’t know, man.” Alaric sighs when we step inside Lexi’s office.

  She’s sitting in her chair behind her desk. The same chair Alaric was sitting in a few weeks ago when he sliced Xandra’s throat, the whore who got the ball rolling in this fucked-up mess that spiraled from one thing to another. I guess the ball turned into a head rolling because Lexi lost hers.

  Motherfucker, blood is sprayed on the wall behind her. Lexi’s body is in the chair, her head—chopped off—is resting on her lap, and I would say she’s holding her head, but her hands were cut clean off also and are on the desk right next to her feet. And no, she doesn’t have her legs raised; her feet were cut off too.

  “If we weren’t sure we’re dealing with a damn cartel—”

  I cut Alaric off and finish the sentence for him. “It’s more than fucking clear now.”

  C H A P T E R E I G H T

  ~ P E Y T O N ~

  It’s been three days since Hunt brought me here. In these three days, I’ve seen him a handful of times. At night he’s gone. During the day, he only occasionally pops in, as if he’s forcing himself to face me. I have absolutely no clue what’s going on, and I know damn
well I can’t ask anyone else because they won’t tell me shit anyway. I know how MC life works.

  So, here I sit, alone in Hunt’s room, bored out of my freaking mind. Well, with bored, I don’t mean I’ve been sitting on my ass doing nothing. Ugh. I have been sitting on my ass, but I was doing something. Luckily, I had a big pile of files I wanted to read through about a new approach to help young children focus.

  Needless to say, I’ve read them all and even did some follow-up research until my eyes were crossed. Angie, the president’s old lady, has come to visit me a few times. She’s nice and easy to talk to, but I don’t want to be within these walls locked up. I want to go out.

  I crave some sunshine or to go for ice cream—oh, ice cream. Lemon flavor. No, better yet, donuts. Lemon crisp donuts. Great. Now I’m hungry and nothing else will do except lemon crisp donuts. Screw it, I’m crawling out the window if needed.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I hear Hunt’s growling voice from behind me.

  I swirl around, all innocent as if I wasn’t just trying to wedge a knife between the window and the frame. I point said knife in his direction. “Doing your job.”

  “My job?” he asks, confused.

  “Yes,” I snap. “Do you see any donuts in here? Any lemon ice cream maybe? Nope. Just four walls, a lot of dry air without a damn ray of sunshine, no company, just little old me.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Hunt hisses through his teeth.

  “Hold your cock for two seconds while I get my bearings. You’re angry at me? Mister ignore the pregnant bitch I have stashed in my room? Whose highlight of the day is talking to your daughter on the phone because she is the only link to the outside world? That’s great. Just freaking great. As if I’m unaware of everything going on. No, wait, I really am oblivious locked up in here. So, why don’t you turn your ass around and leave me the hell alone.”

  “You want to know what’s going on?” He all but spits in my face. “Think you’re all tough as nails being a damn MC princess and feeling out of the fucking loop? Well, let me give you all the fucking details, okay? Lexi, the madam we had running one of our best whorehouses, lost her head. Chopped off and cradled in her lap. Not in her hands, though. Her chopped off hands and feet were on the desk. I wonder where the guy was gonna stash those because we interrupted him, and I managed to catch the little cartel fucker before he hightailed out of there. We’ve been busy torturing him to gather information before we finally send him to hell. Is that what you want to hear?”

  My stomach decides it’s time to remember what it feels like to be on a wild roller coaster and bile rises up. I rush toward the bathroom and manage to dive headfirst into the toilet to puke my guts out.

  “I lost my damn temper. Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all those things.” Hunt curses some more while he gently rubs my back.

  The wave of nausea passes, and I scramble up to put my mouth underneath the tap and splash some water on my face. I grab my toothbrush and add a little toothpaste so I can brush my teeth to get rid of the bad taste in my mouth.

  When I’m finished, Hunt looks guilty as hell, and I can’t bear it. “It wasn’t you, okay? I get nauseous when I’m too worked up about something. My heart rate spikes, and my body heats, making my stomach flip so I need to puke. It wasn’t the gory details. Sad to say I’ve heard and seen worse. Would it freak you out if I said I’m still mad at you, but I can’t bear it if you look guilty for something you didn’t do? Plus, I just puked my guts out, but I still want donuts and ice cream really, really bad.”

  Hunt snorts and shakes his head. He steps forward and wraps his thick, muscled arms around me. I should be angry and push him away, but instead I feel needy and his warm embrace is just the thing I crave.

  His hand slides up, and he gently fists my hair to tilt my head back. “I came to get you because your brother is here. He asked if you could sit in with the meeting we’re about to have. I said the decision should be yours. So, what’s it going to be? If your stomach is still bothering you, I could ask if your brother could reschedule, but... yeah.” A deep sigh rips from his body, and I know why.

  “He can’t reschedule, and you know it. Besides, I think I got it all out and there’s nothing left. Still hungry, though. You better promise to get me donuts and ice cream, and I hate to say it—dammit, I never thought I’d say this, but I need—”

  Hunt finishes my sentence with a smile in his voice. “More attention.”

  “Great.” I sigh overdramatically. “This baby is turning me into a pathetic, needy, overdramatic, ice cream and donut-eating monster.”

  “But it also makes you glow,” the annoying man easily supplies.

  I narrow my eyes. “Is that a synonym for the fatty layer coating my ass that’s about to become seriously huge?”

  His head tips back and laughter rips out. He pulls me close to his body, which is still shaking from laughter, and it makes me tighten my hold on him too. I take a deep breath and inhale his scent, relaxing instantly. Yes, I’m sure this baby is causing this. It’s some kind of twisted way to keep his or her daddy close.

  “Come on, let’s speed things up,” Hunt says and steps away from me.

  I barely bite back half a moan of complaint with the loss of his delicious body against mine. Dammit, another thing I don’t need—the pregnancy horny hormones vibe. Hunt seems to have super hearing because he stops and spins around.

  The instant lust in his eyes pins me in place. Oh, boy. This feels as if it’s going to be rough and quick, exactly like the first and only time we’ve had sex. Excitement tingles through my body as I reach out to grab hold and jump the man who has the promise of an orgasm mother lode vibrating through his gaze.

  A knock on the door breaks our connection. “Dude, you’re needed in church. And you’re lucky it’s me knocking ’cause Stone is about to go door to door to check on his sister.”

  “Tell Stone to let him try, because I will twist his nuts and poke my fingers in his eyes. He knows I mean it; I’ve done it before,” I bellow through the door in anger. I need my orgasms. I don’t want any interruptions.

  “You almost took my fuckin’ eyes the last time, Pey. You were ten years old and already vicious as fuck.” My brother’s voice is filled with laughter as it flows through the door.

  It’s like an ice bucket thrown over me, killing all the horniness that was running wild inside my body. I place my head against Hunt’s massive chest, my fists buried into his leather cut.

  “Vicious back then,” I mutter. Anger and frustration is building from the lack of action between my legs as I raise my voice. “I’m a very vicious, pregnant, hormone-driven, mad woman now, Stone. And you just cunt-blocked me. Do you think you’ll still care about your eyesight when I’m holding your damn nuts in front of your freaking face?”

  Hunt’s whole body shakes with laughter, and all I can do is give him a glare. Great, the whole “let’s have sex” thing is now definitely off the damn table. Ugh.

  “I hate you,” I snap, step back, and rush past him.

  Or at least I try to, but he manages to snatch my arm and yank me back to him. His arms encircle my body, and I love the way I fit against his thick muscles. There isn’t a place where I feel as safe as in his arms. Insane, I know. It must be the whole “being pregnant by him” bringing out this feeling.

  I don’t care. I don’t want to think about anything other than feeling good. And he feels good. His mouth on mine. Soft. Sensual. Hands roaming my body and lighting the fire of lust right back up again. A moan slips past my lips, which he hungrily devours.

  Until it turns into a frustrated growl because I can still hear my brother talking outside our room. I end the kiss and bury my face against the crook of Hunt’s neck as an overdramatic sigh rips from my body.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” Hunt whispers and softly presses his lips against the side of my head. “I have been neglecting you, and myself for that matter. Us. With all this shit going on, I’ve been pumped
with anger and didn’t want to be near you. I’m on edge, and I don’t want you to take the brunt of the impact.”

  “I don’t care,” I mutter against the skin of his neck. “I’d rather have that than be ignored. I understand the anger, the frustration, the necessary lockdown. And normally I would be fine with it, but this is new. Even if I’m used to being tangled with MC life, this MC is new to me. These people are all new, and the same goes for you. So, hard times or not, fighting or not—contact, communication, and being around each other is what builds a relationship. Any relationship. And if we are going to do this, then I need to know who you are, and I certainly don’t expect you to only give me your cheerful side. I want the frustrated and angry one too. The whole thing. Man. Whatever.” I’m shutting up now because I do want the whole thing.

  Everything including the sex. And if he would have given me his anger, there would have been make-up sex involved. Or sex for stress relief. Yes. Sex. See? Everything. Dammit. I really need to shake this whole “pregnancy hormones” thing; it’s making my head bounce between hitting the gutter and the toilet. Puking and sex most definitely do not go well together.

  His fingers wrap into my hair, and the sensual bite of pain from the way he pulls my head back makes an electric current zing through my body. Even more when his eyes hit mine. Dammit. I really need to get laid.

  “Let’s go before I fuck you against the very door your brother is waiting behind.” His voice is filled with the same need I’m filled with.

  “Heard that,” Stone snaps. “Most certainly could have done without hearing it.”

  “Then I will poke your ears instead of your eyes, asshole,” I seethe.

  Hunt’s body rumbles, and he shakes his head while dragging the both of us out of his room. Stone is waiting for us in the hallway, and he lifts his chin in greeting to Hunt. That’s a big change from the last time they met.