Chapter 8
KENZIE
Sex had always been a transaction. I mean, it was good. It felt good. Sounded good. Smelled weird and was messy, but transactional, nonetheless. With Reid, it was fantastical. Synergetic and a shared experience of earthly elements—air, wind, water, and earth.
Smack.
“Hey, Kenzie.”
A sting of pain shot up my thighs.
Thoughts swirled around my brain during the most powerful orgasm of my life. Nonsensical nonsense, but I wasn’t ready to let it go.
I blinked my eyes open.
“You still with me?”
“Yea, oh God.” I spasmed around his long member. He buried himself deep inside me. I lifted a little to relieve the pressure, but I had no strength left in my body. I sank back down. A mix of pain and pleasure elicited a groan. I lay down on his chest. “I’m fine.”
He rolled me to our sides, and his cock fell from my pussy. I missed it already. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. He hadn’t come as far as I could tell, not that I cared. I got what I wanted and felt only a little bad about it.
I reached between us, but he took my hand and laid it on his chest. I shivered, and he held me tighter.
“Shhh. You’re okay.”
Why is he shushing me?
I blinked again, and my eyes blurred. Tears fell down my face and pooled under my cheek on his chest. Oh, my God. How embarrassing. Crying after sex. What a fucking cliché.
His arms wrapped around me made me feel safe and protected.
I’d been doing it all on my own for so long, I could take a minute to let someone else be in charge for a while.
I had no reason to, but I trusted Reid. With my past and my secrets.
The future, well, none of us were promised anything beyond the here and now.
I had no idea what my future held beyond destroying those who hurt me.
Reid was one of them. Not him specifically, but the men he considered brothers and family.
“You want to talk?”
“Nope.” At least my eyes stopped leaking. “I can finish you off if you want.”
“We’ll get to that.” He scoffed. “I’m more interested in where you went just now.”
“Well, apparently, your dick is so powerful, it sends women to other dimensions.” I laughed.
“Don’t do that.” He shifted to his side and faced me. He lifted my chin. I had no energy to face him eye to eye and hold on to my sanity.
I shifted in his arms, scooting back until our bodies aligned. Guiding his arm over me, I pressed his hand against my chest and held it there. He slid in closer, tucking me against him as if I belonged there.
“You can’t hide forever, princess.” He kissed the side of my head and lay down.
I can try. Was my last thought before I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up from a weird dream.
I dreamed of the night my mom died often, but for the first time in my dream, the strangers who saved me had a face. Shadows danced across the ceiling. Reid’s cock remained semi-hard, rubbing up against my ass. I wiggled closer, and his cock sprang to life and nestled between my thighs.
“Someone’s awake.” He gripped my hip to keep me from moving, but his cock had a mind of its own.
“Give it to me,” I whispered, grabbed his hand, and sucked his middle finger into my mouth. “Please.”
I had an enormous sense of gratitude I wanted to pour into him, and I wasn’t sure why. I was also horny as hell and wanted him inside me. That’s the thing about sex; when you don’t have it, you don’t miss it but get one taste and you want more.
He slid into me only halfway and then stopped. With his hand on my hip, I couldn’t move.
“I’m going to need you to be as still as you can be.” He pulled out and slid back in halfway. “Can you do that for me, princess?” He slid all the way in.
I gasped and held on to him, digging my fingers into his forearm. “Oh, my God.”
“That’s it, Kenzie.” He slid out slowly. “Stay still and let me give you what you need.”
A whimper escaped my lips. I had to concentrate to keep from moving, but he felt so good pushing in and out of me, and I didn’t want him to stop. He picked up speed. His cock filled me, and I shut my eyes and felt him moving in me, over me, and around me.
He pressed me onto my stomach and covered me with his hard body. He held himself up on his elbows to keep from crushing me. I wanted him to crush me.
I ran my nails down his left forearm. My fingers graced the hint of a scar.
It was covered with a tattoo I couldn’t make out in the dim light.
I tilted my head and kissed it. Felt the indentation with the tip of my tongue.
I wondered what other wounds he had on his body.
I couldn’t wait to find each and every one of them with my tongue.
I kissed it again. Reid froze mid-thrust. His body tensed.
I turned to ask him if he was okay, but he pressed the back of my head into the bed, suddenly sat up on his knees, and pounded into me.
He dragged another orgasm from my body before finding his own release with out-of-control thrusts and a loud grunt.
The move was degrading and made me feel used.
I loved it.
He collapsed beside me and closed his eyes.
I kissed his chest. He flinched.
“Are you okay?” I mocked his voice and giggled. He didn’t laugh.
The air in the room shifted. Reid lay next to me in silence, but something had changed and spoke louder than words.
I felt his mind racing. His face scrunched up.
It reminded me of how I used to pretend to be asleep as a little girl.
I’d lie perfectly still, slow my breathing, and squeeze my eyes together tight.
I couldn’t figure out how my mom always knew I wasn’t asleep.
If he had things to work out in his mind, I’d let him.
I rolled away from him and sat up. I stepped into the bathroom to clean myself up.
When I came back out, he hadn’t moved. But the condom was gone.
A light snore sounded through his nose. At least whatever had him worried didn’t affect his sleep.
I slid back into bed and wrapped the blanket around me.
I listened to his breathing but couldn’t fall asleep.
An hour passed, and I felt him shift out of bed.
He tiptoed around the room, getting his clothes.
The light in the bathroom came on, and the door shut behind him.
He emerged fully dressed, including his cut.
The logo on the back gleamed in the dim light. Mocking me and challenging me.
He came to sit next to me on the bed. He rubbed a stray hair out of my face and leaned over and placed a kiss on my temple. It felt like a goodbye.
I kept my breathing light and my eyelids barely closed. I even added an eye flutter for good measure.
I learned how to play the game better.
He kissed me again; his lips lingered near my ear.
“Stay safe, princess.” He got up and left.
A light bulb went on in my brain. I sat straight up in bed.
“There’s no way.” It all hit me. The gray eyes, the scar on his forearm from a bullet. The tattoo covering it was a tiara, the kind a princess would wear.
Stay safe, princess.
Those were the same words he whispered to me the night my mother died. Before he and Patrick left.
My mind raced to put the puzzle together, but pieces were missing.
I pulled out my notebook and turned to a blank page and wrote Reid and Patrick at the top on the left and then Sonny at the top on the right.
Fleeting clues popped in and out of my brain. I wrote them down on the blank pages. Take over. Won’t be the same. Same brownish-gold eyes. His warning to stay away. Something was going down, and I was about to walk smack dab in the middle of it.
I scribbled like a madwoman for hours, chasing every thought until my body gave out.
Sore, aching, but satisfied, I collapsed into bed and pulled the blankets tight around me.
They smelled like him. He had starred in so many of my fantasies, but as the nameless, faceless savior who made the demons go away.
I cursed him while awake, hating him for not getting there sooner and saving my mother.
They showed up after the rest of the gang left. Why?
It was all irrational and didn’t make any kind of sense.
When they killed the guys who stayed behind, it was without hesitation.
No conversation and no mercy. It was as if they were there for that purpose.
What makes gang members destroy each other?
Betrayal of some kind. We had that in common.
But Reid and Patrick were not my allies.
They were my enemies, just like Sonny. He was Patrick’s father, too.
He had his blood in him. So did I, but I wasn’t raised by him.
I was groomed to hate him from the moment I asked my mom about him.
Even though she told me he had died, it was clear he was someone I should have feared and hated.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I was six years old, climbing into her car after she’d picked me up from summer day camp the Friday before Father’s Day.
The counselors made us all create homemade cards.
I had given little thought to why mine wasn’t around until that day.
I innocently asked my mother to send it to him, figuring he was out protecting our country like Sarah’s dad or playing football like Ricky’s dad.
The fear and disgust on my mother’s face when I brought it up told me all I needed to know.
Later that day, I not only found my card in the trash, but it was also crumpled and torn up into tiny little pieces.
We never spoke about him again until I was ten years old. A similar situation of a Father’s Day with no idea where my own father was. That time, I had the questions to ask, and to my mom’s credit, she answered them. It wasn’t until she died, I discovered he was alive.
I drifted off to sleep with more questions, but my mind went blank. Too exhausted to dream for those answers.
I woke up a few hours later, given how the sun peeked through the slit in the curtains.
The room was warm, and the faint smell of sex hung in the air.
I pulled myself out of bed and downed a bottle of water while waiting for the shower to heat.
The bath was inviting, but I needed to stay focused.
A scorching hot shower would keep me on edge.
I had a plan and prepared flawlessly for every contingency. What happened between Reid and me didn’t change a thing. If anything, it made me more determined.
If I had recognized him, without seeing his face back then, he certainly had recognized me.
He was there that night, and while I couldn’t fully comprehend what happened and how they were involved, it didn’t change the fact he’d been riding with the Infinity Kings for years.
He saw what they did to my mother and still chose them as family.
It wasn’t like Patrick, my brother, who had no choice in who his father was and how he was raised.
Although he was now a grown man and could make his own decisions, he chose to be in his father's gang. Family dynamics got complicated. Part of me wanted to drive up to the front door of the clubhouse and introduce myself to see what would happen. Maybe I would be welcomed into the fold, too. I would be family, and as long as I fell in line, I would be taken care of. While my foster parents were great, when I chose this life, I never hesitated. Not once. Didn’t care what they thought or how what I planned would affect them.
They did their job, keeping me clothed and fed, with a roof over my head, but it was my quest for revenge that kept me alive.
I should have died that night right alongside my mother, but I didn’t, and now I was here.
Ready to drive up to the front of their clubhouse, but not to be invited into the fold.
I would not be toeing the line. Tonight was going to be epic.
All my questions would be answered. Saviors weren’t what I needed anymore—I was ready to save myself.
No one else had to face my demons; I was prepared to destroy them on my own.