Blood Revealed (Brimstone Lords MC Book 6)

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

“Bloodhound? Now that’s one hot motherfucker. If he hasn’t yet, next time you’re in bed, ask him to do the twist. It’ll blow your ever-loving mind. I still haven’t recovered and I haven’t been with him in months.”

  She’s slept with Blood? This statuesque, brunette beauty? She’s like the perfect woman. I deflate a little. What he must have thought watching me try to give a lap dance when he’s been with this chick.

  I have an out of town I.D., no phone and hardly an appropriate address. At least I know my social security number. When I finish filling out what I can of the application, she looks at all the blank spots and says, “Don’t worry. You can fill the rest in as they come. You start training tomorrow. Be here by two. Amethyst will work with you. She’s the best with the new girls.”

  “Who’s on the stage right now?” I ask. Because she’s the one with the moves.

  “Dainty Rae. She won’t talk to you. She barely talks to the girls that have been here for a year or more. Trust me, Amethyst will be a good fit.”

  “Okay. Then… um… I’ll be back tomorrow at two.”

  She doesn’t look up from the mess on her desk or give me a proper goodbye as I turn to leave. Blood sits at a table in the back of the room sipping a beer from a bottle, watching Dainty Rae strut her stuff when I exit the back hallway into the main seating area. She is amazing. But he tears his attention away from her to smile at me.

  “How’d it go?” he asks.

  “Well, I met Shelly.”

  “She’s good people,” he says, as if he’d never shared his spectacular sexual moves with her.

  “Right. Well, I’m supposed to be back here tomorrow at two for training. Can someone bring me?”

  “Sure, sweetheart. I’ll bring you.” Hearing him say that makes my heart hurt. I mean, he’s been with Shelly. I’ve never been with anyone. Of course, he’s willing to bring me here. Who can blame him? The women here are amazing. Nothing I can compete with.

  When we leave the club, he doesn’t take me right back to the compound but drives to an area they call “the top of the hill,” where the only things there are a couple of grocery stores, a building supply store, and a Walmart.

  “It’s cold,” he says when I shoot him a ‘what the heck?’ look. “You don’t have any cold weather clothing.”

  “I also don’t have any money, Blood. A fact you very well know.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ll take care of that. No one’s asking you to pay for shit. Once you start making tips, I’ll step back. Until then you need stuff that I can pay for.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not arguing with you on this. Let’s go in.”

  Okay, so I’m not sure what just happened, but I find myself being led inside the Walmart, where Blood buys me practically a new winter wardrobe and we get our grocery shopping done before heading back to the clubhouse. Duke calls when we’re almost there to tell Blood that Dawna wants to visit with me.

  Instead of taking the bags into my room, I veer off to the pretty blue doublewide with Blood at my side. He lets us in. Duke looks haggard, standing at the kitchen island, gripping the edge hard enough that if he gripped it with a tiny bit more pressure, he’d break it clean off.

  “She’s in the room,” he barks and I jump. The pain in his voice is startling. I turn my head to look at Blood. He tries to smile, lifting his chin to tell me to go. My steps begin to falter the closer to Dawna’s room I get.

  She’s even more frail today than she was yesterday. The end is coming and it’s coming soon. “Hi,” I say to announce myself from the hallway, lifting a hand to wave. She shifts her eyes to look at me but can’t even garner enough strength to turn her head.

  “Hi,” she whispers.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to rest?” I ask, hanging back in the doorway.

  “No,” she says. “Got eternity soon. Need to talk now.”

  I take in a deep breath to work up the courage to approach the bed. It came easier to me yesterday. Yesterday I’d never spoken to her before. Yesterday I wasn’t in the presence of a woman this close to taking her final breaths. Then I force myself to sit on the bed in the same spot I sat yesterday.

  “What do you need?”

  “You saw him?”

  Duke. Right. She needs to talk about Duke. I nod. “He’s not taking it well.” This comes out less than a whisper. “I’m asking him now to let you stay. Please take care of him.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. Will you get him?”

  The tears stay checked until my back is to her. Then they begin to fall because I can’t hold them back any longer. “Um…” I say to get the men’s attention. Both of them look to me. “Dawna wants you to come in the room with us, Duke. And, well, if there are any men who want to say goodbye, they need to come now.”

  The hard look he shoots me practically drops me to my knees, but I stand tall. “I’m sorry,” I say. “But denying it won’t change the facts.” On that note, I turn to walk back to Dawna. About a minute later, we’re joined by Duke and Blood.

  “Some ’a the brothers are comin’ to see ya, sweetheart,” Duke says to his wife. “Hope ya don’t mind.”

  “No,” she whispers. “It’s good. They need to come.”

  I move closer to Blood, whose face looks ravaged by sorrow, to wrap my arms around him. He clings to me like if I let go, he’ll collapse. This woman means a lot to the brothers. I swallow back my tears and smile at Dawna.

  She can only move one finger, and she uses it to stroke the side of Duke’s. He clasps hers. “What’cha need?”

  “I want Hannah to st-t-tay.” She stutters and has to take a breath. “At the club. Permanently. To take care of you and the other boys.”

  “Don’t know—”

  He’s about to deny her when she whispers, “Please, lover.” The man squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard. That must be her pet name for him.

  He nods. “Promise.”

  She sighs and it’s almost inaudible. Boss, Chaos, Carver, and Sneak file in. They each walk over to the bed and bend down to kiss Dawna’s cheek or forehead. Her eyes drop closed and her chest takes in one last shallow breath. The last exhale is her final exhale. This is the hardest part. I’ve never seen men full of such sorrow for a woman before.

  Duke stands at her bedside, his hands resting on his hips, tears rolling down his face, the look of a man who just lost his entire world. I go up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to Blood’s wet cheek, then I walk over to Duke and hug him. When he hugs me back, his arms go so tight, they crush me and he sobs into my shoulder.

  I stay there letting him get it out, not saying a word. What can I say that will be of any comfort? Finally, he drops his arms and I step back. Duke clears his throat. “Right. Arrangements to be made.”

  “Let me do it,” I find myself offering. “I’ll take care of whatever you need me to.”

  “Naw, but thanks, sweetheart,” he says. “I gotta do this for Dawna.” His voice breaks on her name. “Blood, got yerself a good one. Don’t let her go.”

  I don’t know what to say because what does a girl say to that? Blood’s had Shelly. He doesn’t want me. I usher the men out of the room so Duke can have a private moment with his wife.

  Boss hangs back. “I’m gonna stay. Y’all go on now.”

  Given what I learned, that even at his young age, Boss is the VP of the club, it makes sense. The boys walk slower back to the clubhouse. When Blood keeps us moving back to his room, I don’t hesitate or argue. I just go. He needs me.

  I lay back on the bed, pulling him down to lay next to me where he immediately rolls to bury his wet face against my chest, gripping my blouse in his fists, and sobs—his whole body racking with them. I hold on tighter than I’ve ever held on to anyone letting him grieve. I press kisses to his hair and forehead as a way to hopefully convey without words that I’m here for him. To speak would be to break the magic of the moment, a moment where he trusts me enough to give me this part of him.


  Cheeks still damp, he tips his head up to look at me. No, that’s not right, he looks inside me, deep inside, and his breath turns sharp. He kisses me. That’s not right, either. He kisses me, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss. Every high and low from the moment we met and further back. He gives me a lifetime of life, love and sorrow with his lips pressed to mine.

  Where he leads, I follow. My teacher finds that for the first time in my life I’m a very willing student. Forget belly flutters, a hive of activity comes to life inside me—and all of it good, exciting.

  His hand sifting through my hair drops to caress the prickled gooseflesh of my neck, then slowly moving lower until reaching the hem of my shirt. His thumb strokes the delicate flesh between the waist of my jeans and my bellybutton while continuing to work me with his mouth. I still his hand and we lock eyes.

  His asking, are you sure?

  Mine answering, yes.

  I release his hand allowing him to push my shirt up my chest and over my head. Only then do his eyes move from mine, drinking in my lacy ecru and black satin bra. He licks his lips before dropping them to the exposed swell of my breast. Suddenly I get the urge to see him without his shirt and he helps me remove the fabric, tossing it to the floor. As spectacular as his chest looks fully clothed, it’s nothing compared to the exquisitely chiseled pecs and abs on full display for me now covered by only a spattering of chest hair and a few well-placed tattoos.

  One in particular runs down the left side of his ribs. It’s of the back of a man in a Lords’ cut, gun in hand hanging by his side, walking into what appears to be the fiery pits of Hell. There’s a date underneath it. It’s as sad as it is beautiful. I run my hand over the ink and the muscles of his stomach contract at my touch.

  I chuckle. He smiles, dropping another kiss to my lips. As he works my mouth with his tongue, he works us out of the rest of our clothing. Naked—me. Under a man I want to be naked with. I shift my legs to allow him between them.

  “Need you,” he finally whispers, and that’s it.

  In his bed, on the night a good woman passed away, I give myself to Blood.

  He’s everything I hoped he would be. We’re lying still naked in his bed, under his covers. Blood holds me. “I want you, Hannah. I want to claim you with the club.”

  “Claim me? Really?”

  “Baby. Shit. Old lady is written all over you. I need you and I want to take care of you. Let me claim you.”

  “Well, ok—”

  There’s pounding on the door cutting off my reply. “Sorry, brother,” Boss calls to Blood. “Fuck. Just what we don’t need tonight.”

  “Get up,” Blood says to me. “Get dressed. Don’t want him seeing you like this.”

  I throw on Blood’s T-shirt. I swim in it. It’s so long, it hangs past my knees. Once Blood has his jeans pulled up and zipped, he yells, “Come on in.”

  “Hey, Han.” Boss greets me. I’m Han now? A nickname from the VP. “We got trouble. Anguino cartel is making moves. Apparently, Anguino’s number two lost something pretty important to him. Cargo he’s not willing to let go.”

  I gasp and both men look at me. “You know the Anguino Cartel?” Boss asks me, eyebrow raised, at the same time Blood says, “Don’t worry, baby. It’s got nothing to do with you. You’re safe here.”

  But I know I’m not. Not if I let Blood claim me. Old ladies get put on the off-limits list. That shit gets spread far and wide. If he claims me, Escalante—I found out from the Pythons that he’s Anguino’s number two—will come down on the Lords with more power than they’ll know how to handle.

  Why? Why couldn’t I have this one damn thing? I spent practically my whole life doing what my dad and his pathetic club asked of me, never asking for anything in return.

  They own me this, the chance to be Blood’s old lady. I want to take care of him and let him take care of me. I know, as sure as I’m breathing, that I’ll never want anything more. Yet because of a deal I had no part in, that dream dissipates before my eyes. Damn you, Dad. Damn you, el maestro. Damn you both to hell.

  4.

  Blood, a.k.a. Raif

  Present day…

  “The fuck’s goin’ on out there?” Boss yells across the table, slamming his fist on the wooden surface.

  Duke called a meeting of his lieutenants, though Hero and Scotch were ordered to be here since their women are involved in one way or another. Hero stands with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling in a way that contrasts with his pretty-boy, Hollywood-type appearance. Women love Hero and he loved them pretty much on a nightly basis until Brinley came along, knocking him on his ass.

  Never seen a brother go from playing the field to family man with the quickness of Hero. And now he’s definitely pissed. Scotch is another one who liked to fuck around —tall, strong motherfucker, the scar on his face made women go wild. Rugged or some shit- that is until he found himself the proud papa of twin baby girls and he rekindled a romance with the love of his life, Francesca “Frankie” Cardone. Whereas Hero’s scowl makes him look pissed, Scotch’s is calculating. I trust Scotch, but I don’t trust calculating.

  “The women ain’t safe—should’ve never let those Brown women on the compound,” Boss keeps going, oblivious to the fist I’m trying like hell to keep from making contact with his face. “All they bring is trouble.”

  The fuck is this shit? Brinley is a Brown woman. Hannah is a Brown woman.

  Hero pushes off the wall where he’s been standing quiet up till now to charge Boss, getting there before I do, raising his fist in a sucker punch to our VP’s jaw before he knows what hit him. “Say that again, motherfucker. I goddamn dare you,” he bites out.

  I’ve never seen the brothers so on edge. Boss stands fast enough to knock his chair over, the sound reverberating around the room, then Hero and Boss—brothers, friends—proceed to beat the shit out of each other. Blood and spittle flying through the air.

  “You want trouble?” I jump in to separate them. Chaos and Sneak take Hero. Scotch, Carver, and I take on Boss, who’s a large fucker, big as a bull moose. He keeps struggling against us. “Stop, Boss,” I yell. “Who brought Houdini here? People who live in glass houses, man. It’s shit, but pointing fingers at the women ain’t gonna help us now.”

  He shoves at my chest to move me back a few steps, pulling at his hair and linking his fingers to the tip of his head. His nostrils flare as he takes in hard breaths.

  “You could no more ask Hero to end things with Brin than we could ask you to leave Elise. You’re one of my best friends so I’m straining to keep my temper in check, but say one word against Hannah, and I don’t care you’re bigger than me. I’ll lay your motherfucking ass out.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping for cooler heads to prevail. “We love Elise. We love all the women. Caity, Liv, Frankie, Brin, and Hannah. Hell, the only old ladies who haven’t led to death or injury in one way or another are Trish and Brighton.”

  Duke slams his fist on the table to get our attention. “I get it. We’re all upset at the shit goin’ down. But, Boss, I allowed Hannah to stay here and don’t remember you protestin’ then. And if you say somethin’ against my wife, I’ll end ya right now.”

  “The women are here.” Sneak, whose wife is completely innocent of anything, steps in as the voice of reason. “They’re not going anywhere. So next idea. Where do we go from here?”

  I get it. I really do. Since Brinley’s rescue, it’s been a shit show out there. The Horde are crumbling from within and because they haven’t been able to keep up with the internal and the external bullshit, they’ve lost ground. When a club loses ground, the vultures descend. And that’s what happened here. The vultures are pushing in, trying to claim territory that’s not Horde. We’re not giving it up easily. Can’t keep the women safe with that kind of threat so close to home. Cartels? Shit, they’ve got most of the Southwest. What do they need Kentucky for? And the meth problem here has compounded. Kids dropping dead all over the state. We get news coming in from
Ohio, Tennessee, and even West Virginia where we’re located. It’s bad all over. And it’s bad because of the Horde and the Riot and every other bullshit club spreading that poison to young people. Getting them addicted. Ruining lives.

  It can’t go on. We can’t let it. So how do we protect our families and the public from getting burned when the fire is blazing all around us?

  Fighting won’t help, though. That’s what’s bringing down the Horde. They got dissention in the ranks. Thank Christ. Some of those men aren’t down with the way the Horde have been heading. We saw that years ago. The Lords used to be into some serious shit, too. Manufacturing and dealing. Before my time, but not Duke’s. He was there. He lost his brother because of it. Boss, Chaos, Sneak, Carver, and I came on board when we were fighting to clean house. And it was a fight.

  I’ve done things in my life there’s no forgiveness for, but I did them for good reasons and I’d do it again. To get us clean. To get us to the club we wanted to be. The club we are now and trying like hell to keep.

  The problem is, it looks like we’re headed down that road. Not the drugs, but doing things there’s no forgiveness for. And for Hannah, I’ll do it. To know she’s safe and can live her life breathing free, I’ll gladly give everything I have, even my life it comes to that.

  “Listen up, brothers.” Duke brings order back to the room. “We’re doubling the patrols. We work out a schedule. Men with women involved, they get guards. It sucks we gotta go back to this, but I ain’t taking any chances. Last time we went through this, I lost my brother. I will not risk my wife or my kids. I know, knowin’ the men you are, you ain’t willin’ to lose yours, either. So this is where we’re at. Diligence. Keepin’ sharp. Goin’ about our business is the best way for those fucks to let their guard down, thinkin’ that we’re not takin’ the threat seriously. We’re takin’ the threat seriously. Anyone got anythin’ else to say?”

  “No,” Boss says, wiping the blood from his lip.

  “Good. Then Boss, Hero, go get a fuckin’ beer and talk this shit out. Don’t wanna see you goin’ at each other again. Got me?”