Thank fuck for coke cock last night. There’s no way I could have lasted as long as I did without it.
All thoughts of giving her another orgasm flee my head when Alanah starts to lift her hips to meet my thrusts. She’s a fucking natural. Ripe and ready. Devoid of self-consciousness. She’s open to anything I want to do to her.
Rising to my knees, I lift her legs over my shoulders, take hold of her thighs, and fuck her as hard as I can. She screams and shakes. Gasps for air. When I get to the cusp of my climax and start pumping into her with a raw rhythm that is impossible for her to match, her body turns to liquid.
My orgasm hits like a lightning bolt. Still holding her legs, I thrust inside her quivering body one last time and empty my load inside her. The moment it’s over, my adrenaline deserts me, and I slump face down on the mattress next to Anita.
I manage to muster enough energy to roll on my side and pull her back to my chest so we can spoon.
“It’s too soon,” I confess against her thick hair. “But I have to tell you anyway.”
“Mmmm hmmm?” she asks, tiredly.
“I’m in love with you.” Almost impossibly, Anita melts further into me. “I’m warning you now that I’m keeping you forever.”
“I’d like that,” she replies without hesitation.
Her response is almost perfect.
When her breathing begins to even out, I push away the disappointment that’s grown within me, twisting and turning around my heart like poison ivy, infecting me and goading my usual fears back to life, when too much time passes, and she doesn’t return my proclamation.
I try to rationalise it in my head. She’s young. She’s probably scared. We barely know each other.
Then, I attempt to come up with a viable plan. Be patient. Be kind. Hide your poisonous ways. Stay away from the coke. Give her your all and she won’t leave.
The advice I give myself is almost enough to soothe the beast inside.
I’m nearly asleep when I hear the words I need to lock my fears away.
“I love you, too,” Anita murmurs. I keep my breathing even to make sure she doesn’t discover that I’m still awake. “But I’m too scared to tell you that right now.”
There it is.
The proof I needed.
Anita is it for me.
EIGHTEEN
Anita
Three weeks later
“Come home,” Serge orders me. His voice is stern and scary, even with the distance between us. “This is madness.”
Gripping the handset of the pay phone too hard, I ignore the way my hand shakes. This is the first time I’ve spoken to my brother since the morning of my high school graduation and, even then, it was only a chance encounter with one of the Ugly Bastards when I was shopping for food with Brian that had induced me to make contact.
The warning had been clear. Make contact asap.
Thankfully, my boyfriend was called into his MC for a meeting straight after our shopping expedition and I was able to sneak out of his house to talk my brother into calling off his dogs. Time was of the essence because Serge isn’t known for his patience and I don’t think he’d care if he ruined my new relationship in his quest to get me back home.
I don’t want to leave Brian.
Apart from one middle of the night trip back home—when I knew the coast would be clear—to grab my belongings, I haven’t left Brian’s side until now.
Losing him has become my biggest fear. Our relationship has been a whirlwind; however it’s also been the best experience of my life. Knowing in your very marrow, deep, deep, down the rawest part of your body, that someone loves you for you is empowering.
It’s freeing.
It’s everything.
It’s what gives me the strength to address Serge’s directive honestly.
“No,” I state bluntly. “You made your feelings clear the last time I saw you. Bring information or move out. Well, I took the second option and you have to live with that.”
“Anita!” he shouts my name down the phone. “Come home now or I’ll come and get you myself.”
Biting my lip, I drag in a deep breath through my nose, then slowly exhale through my mouth. I don’t want to hurt my brother, but I will if he tries to come after me on Black Shamrocks MC turf. The morning after my first night with Brian, when he told me that he loved me, I’d decided on the spot that nothing would come between us.
My last name.
His motorcycle club.
The treacherous method I used to force my way into his life.
Not one thing will drive us apart.
I won’t let it.
“If you do that,” I counter in the nastiest tone I can muster. “I’ll tell them that Carly’s still alive.”
Serge’s sharp intake of breath rattles down the phone line. It gives me pause, a teeny twang of disloyalty sparking in my chest before I douse its flames with the waterfall of love Brian has set flowing within me.
“Are you fucking with me?”
The line goes scratchy, I hear his boots stomping away, the chains he wears clanging and banging. The line goes quiet, then Carly’s voice invades my ears. “What’s going on, Anita? Serge is beside himself.”
“You tell me?” I respond with a hint of bitch. “The Shamrocks think you’re either dead or ran away because your lover was married. My brother, who told me in no uncertain terms not to come home if I didn’t have useful information, is now demanding that I return. And I’m stuck in the middle of your lies.”
“How did you find out?” she asks.
“By chance,” I reply. “At first, I thought discovering if you were telling the truth was the reason I was sent to spy on them, but I soon worked out that my brother wouldn’t go to all this trouble for the ex-mistress of both the President and VP unless there was something in it for him and the Ugly Bastards. We both know what you’re up to, it’s only a matter of time before Serge finds out if you don’t help me. I have no loyalty left to the Ugly Bastards. When he decided to give me an ultimatum, I made my decision. I’m sorry to inform you… your side lost.”
Carly doesn’t answer me; her heavy breathing the only indication I have that she hasn’t hung up on me.
Winding enough truth into my bluff to make it seem viable is a classic DiAmore strategy. I’ve watched my dad and brother do it for years. Meet your mark head on. Bluff your way through their questions. Pretend you know more than you do.
Here’s hoping it works…
“What do you want me to do?” Carly speaks again. She sounds subdued, but not beaten.
“I want Serge to leave me alone,” I reply, the request rolls off my tongue. “I want to get on with my life out of the shadows of the Ugly Bastards, and I want you to get my brother and the club on board with that.”
“Okay,” she concedes straightaway. I hold my breath and wait for the other shoe to drop. Carly doesn’t disappoint. “I know you haven’t worked it all out yet so you can stop lying about that. I also know that it’s only a matter of time before you do—especially when you’re sharing a bed with Frankie’s son.”
Crap. The Ugly Bastards have kept better tabs on me than I’d assumed.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t told your brother yet,” Carly interjects. My heart plummets into my shoes. I was wrong. It’s not the club; it’s Carly herself with the drop on me. But how? “You better believe that I will tell him if I receive even a hint that you’re about to open your mouth.”
“Right…”
Carly laughs. It’s a strange sound. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. “How’s this for a deal? I’ll keep your brother and the Ugly Bastards from breaking up your little love affair, and you’ll keep your nose out of my business?”
She’s up to something and I don’t know what.
“It’s a deal.” I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, and she’s the lesser of two evils at the moment.
If Serge or his club come for me before I find a way to tell Brian who
my family is, I’ll lose him.
Carly Miller is my only way to stop that from happening right now. As reluctant as she sounds to assist me, I believe that we’ve reached an impasse where it benefits us more to cooperate with each other than it does to go to battle.
She has her secrets. I have mine. We both want them to stay hidden.
“Good.” I can hear the smirk in her voice. She laughs again. This time there’s no doubt left in my mind. She is evil at her core. “Just remember to keep your end of the bargain when Brain Kelly’s had his fill of your skanky arse and tosses you to the curb.”
The phone line goes dead. She’s hung up on me.
I stand there for another five minutes with the handset clenched in my hand. This should feel like a victory. I won. I get to stay with Brian without my brother’s interference.
So why does it feel like I just played the wrong hand?
NINETEEN
Brian
The home in front of me doesn’t give away an inkling of the betrayal it currently houses. Compared to where I live, it’s a palace. Doesn’t matter. I’d still prefer to sleep in a hovel for the rest of my life than do what he’s done. This unassuming, single storey suburban home, the place where Vic lays his head each night, needs to be razed to the ground—preferably with his deceitful arse inside—to eradicate all evidence of his existence.
But, before I can do that, I need to get my sister to leave.
Striding up to the front door, I pound my fist on hard wood.
“Alanah,” I shout. “I know you’re in there. Open the fucking door before I kick it down.”
The neighbours across the road come out the front of their house and stare at me with curious eyes.
“What the fuck are you looking at?”
They spin on their heels and trot back inside. No doubt to call the police… or Vic.
Time is running out. Paddy just confirmed what I’d long suspected—the Black Shamrocks are going further underground with their “business” activities and Vic is sleeping with my little sister. I haven’t seen her since the night of her graduation. That was her choice, but I shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.
It’s my fault. I’ve been too wrapped up in my love for Anita. Too trusting when Alanah pleaded that she just needed time to get her head around the end of school and find her feet as an almost adult. Too soft to tell her I knew what happened to her and I was sorry. Too stupid to remember what I’d seen between her and Vic back at our patching-in ceremony.
That’s me—too everything, but never enough.
Banging on the door again, I can’t hide the pain I’m feeling when I plead with her again. “Please, kiddo. I need to see that you’re okay.”
Finally, I can hear sounds behind the front door. I know it’s Alanah. Vic is at the Black Shamrocks MC clubhouse for a meeting that I’m running late for—our dad arranged for him to be called in early so I could try to see my sister without his interference.
My hands curl into fists when I recall the impotent way my father described the situation with Vic and Alanah. My fellow MC brother, the man I thought I was my truest friend, has been keeping Alanah from speaking to her father. His behaviour is both a direct dereliction of his oath to the Shamrocks and a violation of our bond. We grew up side by side, through a baptism of fire as the first sons of the most notorious MC in Brisbane. My dad is his Vice President.
The way he’s acting is creating a line in the sand.
Vic needs to choose.
Give up this stupid infatuation with my sister and return to the Black Shamrocks fold to accept his punishment…
Or die.
The second option will destroy my sister—I know she’ll blame herself—so it’s up to me to make them both see sense.
It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I let him ruin everything Alanah has worked for since she was a little girl.
Righteous rage infiltrates my veins. I smack the door three times with the side of my fist, and holler at the shadow I can see through the frosted glass panel in the door.
“Lana, I’m not asking again. Open the fucking door or I’m gonna start kicking.”
“I’m coming,” she replies.
The time it takes for her to open the door feels like a lifetime. When she pulls it open and lets me inside, the rush of relief I feel is akin to a tsunami.
“Thank fuck,” I blurt out.
Seizing hold of her arms, I wrench her forward and engulf her in a bear hug. Alanah returns my embrace. I squeeze her. She tenses before she pulls away.
Alanah is a mess. Purple rings colour the skin beneath her eyes. Her skin has lost its lustre, and she appears to have shrunk in on herself since I saw her last. “You look like a ghost. Hasn’t Vic been looking after you?”
I know I’ve made a fatal error when blinkers come down over her eyes and her shoulders lift closer to her ears. “Vic has been brilliant. He’s been my rock. If you’re here to talk badly about him, you can leave now.”
Alanah points at the door. She stares at me without wavering.
Holding my hands in the air, I try to appear non-threatening.
“While I have my issues with Vic, I’m here to make sure you’re all right and get your side of the story. I think that shit is about to go down at the Club, and I need facts in case we’re called on to vote.”
My words have the desired effect. She grabs my arm and drags me into the living room. We sit, facing each other. Alanah on the arm chair and me on the three-seater couch. I look around Vic’s house, surprised to find all signs of Bonnie have been removed. His furniture is much nicer than the stuff we have in our house. The smell of a casserole cooking permeates my nose.
This is no longer Bonnie’s house; my sister is leaving her own mark on Vic’s home.
She’s making it hers.
“What’s happening at the Club? Why is Vic getting the blame for my choices? What has Paddy said? Are they going to take his patches?” Alanah throws questions at me with the finesse of an untrained guerrilla solider lobbing grenades at the approaching enemy.
“Whoa! One thing at a time, kiddo. You shouldn’t be worrying about Vic, you should be coming home with me, so I can take care of you.”
Her eyebrow arches, annoyance radiating from her. “Like I said, Vic’s taking care of me. I’m fine. Now, answer my questions or leave.”
She’s never spoken to me like this. To be honest, it shocks me to my core. Who is this person and what has she done with my meek and mild sister?
Screwing up my nose, I drag in a deep breath before I ask the question I wanted to avoid, “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” she replies with precise conviction.
I close my eyes to block out the certainty I can see on her face.
It’s hypocritical of me, but I don’t like this one bit.
Images of strangling Vic to death play out behind my eyelids. As much as I try to see it from their side, I can’t. What Vic is doing with my little sister is wrong.
Yes, I’m sleeping with Anita—who’s the same age. However the circumstances are different. I’m not the father of a one-year-old. I’m not breaking the rules of the brotherhood to pursue my own selfish wants. My wife didn’t run away from me halfway across the world.
The rage I’m feeling tugs at its leash. I want to let it free.
I don’t because I know it’ll push Alanah further into Vic’s web.
“Okay, that’s not optimal, but I can deal with it,” I say quietly. Alanah smiles. Her expression loses the wariness she’s worn since I arrived. I can’t keep a scowl from forming on my face and I give into the urge to release some of my anger by levelling a threat at Vic. “Are you fucking him? Because I’ll kill him if he’s touched you. You’re underage. He’s still fucking married. That shit is not on.”
“It’s none of your business.” Alanah shows no signs of embarrassment at my prying, rather she snaps at me once again. “But, no, we have not had sex.”
Probably serves me right for being a nosy dickhead.
It’s none of my business. She is seventeen. I already had two years of sexual encounters behind me by that age.
Something flickers over my sister’s face. My nerve endings twang, waiting for her to open up to me. When it becomes clear that she’s not going to let me in, I try to verbally prod her into confiding in me.
“Lana,” I lower my voice and use my nickname for her in an attempt to remind her just how close we used to be. Alanah doesn’t reply so I change tact. Threatening Vic seems to be the only way to get through to her today.
There’s cold promise wrapped with menace when I say, “If you’re lying to protect him, I’ll find out.”
It works.
“Look,” she murmurs, dropping my eyes and concentrating on her hands where they’re clasped in her lap. “Something happened at the party and the first place I thought to run was to Vic’s. I was stupid, and I ended up hurt—”
“By those boys who gave you shit when they arrived?” I ask.
Her face turns pink. “Yeah, how did you know?”
“Paddy said he saw them harassing you, so he scared them off,” I reply.
Suspicion clouds her expression. I understand her disbelief. Discovering that Paddy has my back more than Vic ever did has required some adjustment. Yet he’s proven it over and over—starting with the morning after Alanah’s graduation party when he made me aware that Alanah had been assaulted in her own home.
While I was face down in the dirt because I couldn’t control myself, my sister was being touched by a group of boys it was my job to have protected her from.
“He said when he went to find you, you were nowhere to be found. He assumed you were okay and went back inside. Of course, I knew nothing until I went to see where you were a couple hours later.”
Butch (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 3) Page 12
