Chapter 7
KILLA
The ride down from Pennsylvania to Florida sucked donkey cock.
It took three long damn days and two shitty motels to arrive, and all the while, thoughts of Cassidy consumed me.
She took me so damn beautifully, her green eyes sparkling as if begging for everything I was giving her and more.
Was it guilt that had her submitting so epically?
Whatever it is, I don’t give a fuck. She sucked me down like no woman has before, and even more importantly, she made me come harder than ever.
Next time, I want her to make a show of licking my piercing clean.
There will be a next time. I’ll make sure of it.
I want my cum spilling from her mouth, her tongue hanging out while I spurt all over her face. Fuck yeah.
Reliving that moment over and over again is getting me nowhere and only contributing to my growing anger.
I went there for answers, not to receive more questions.
I wanted to hurt her in order to gain some closure, yet I received none.
Not a damn one. All I received was a raging cock eager for more.
Her eyes shimmered with expectation as she choked on me, the most beautiful fucking sight I’ve ever seen.
Did she really think I was going to grant her pleasure?
She doesn’t deserve it, not at all. Not when so many victims, past and potentially present, have suffered, and she most likely holds the key to their fates.
I know she has the answers to the questions whirling in my head and the knowledge of the traffickers still working now.
There’s no way in hell she will get pleasure from me while my torment continues.
Not until she gives me answers at least.
“You good?” Hunter’s eyebrow rises. He’s been doing that a lot over this past week; he can probably sense the raging turmoil inside me. “You need a woman.” He grins and his eyebrows dance.
I snort on the water I’m drinking. The water is barely fucking cold, but I’ll take it. When you’ve been on the road as long as we have—particularly in scorching heat—you’d happily drink piss if it meant you were drinking something wet.
“This is as warm as my piss.” Warrior spits his water out on the dirt road, making me chuckle. “I need a fucking cold beer,” he grumbles.
For a VP, he sure knows how to bitch about everything and anything.
“VP, I got some piss right here if you want it,” Slash, our enforcer, states, then grabs his crotch while slapping Warrior on the back.
Warrior pushes his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t want shit from you.”
“Ahh, I see how it is. You want me to dye my hair red too, is that it?” Slash mocks, and I wince, knowing he doesn’t realize how deep that comment goes.
Warrior stiffens and just as quickly drops his shoulders.
Slash is walking a fine line without realizing it.
“Dixie girl, waiting in bed for you?” he singsongs, and he’s going to get sliced up again if he doesn’t stop.
“Don’t care where the fuck she’s waitin’.” Warrior stands taller, puffing out his chest. “But can paint your fuckin’ face red if you wanna continue goin’ there.”
Slash grins, and it’s borderline deranged. “Nah, I’m good. I’m pretty enough already.” He bats his lashes, causing a roar of laughter to flow through my brothers.
The poor bastard would look like a damn model if he hadn’t been slashed with a knife down the side of his face.
He doesn’t speak about what happened, but all I know is his papa marked him up, and as soon as Slash was old enough, he unleashed on him and ended up in juvenile hall after they found his papa in pieces.
“Heard she’s currently rolling into pound town on the one-way express to oblivion.” He grins wider.
I choke on a chuckle, and even Warrior can’t hold it in, his laugh booming through the motel parking lot.
Slash pulls out his phone and spins it around to us.
Dixie is having a train run on her, or train wreck as I like to call it, thanks to the mess that’s gonna be left around her and more than likely on her.
As long as some doesn’t land in her, we’re all good.
As much as Savage ensures the club whores are up-to-date with their contraceptives, I wouldn’t trust a single one of them. Not to mention, I don’t want someone else’s cum touching my cock. The thought makes my dick want to shrivel up.
Savage knows only too well what it’s like being lumbered with a club whore.
His ol’ lady might as well be one of them.
She’s batshit crazy and screws everything that moves…
and doesn’t, actually. The woman was once so off her head on coke she got caught trying to fuck a corpse; now, Savage does us all a favor and insists on club whores getting tested too.
Still, the thought makes me want to double wrap my cock. One condom doesn’t seem safe enough when I dump a load inside one. Though I don’t seem to have a problem with thoughts of unloading inside my little demon.
A fierce need grows inside me; I need to feel her bare cunt wrapped around my cock. Only mine, not one my brothers have used before me, and not one I intend on letting them use after.
I pull my phone from my jeans and stare down at it, contemplating messaging her. Hunter located her phone number for me, and I guess I should give her a heads-up that I’ll be back soon. My lip quirks at the thought before I fire a text off to her.
Me: Wakey wakey.
The reply is instant, causing a rush of adrenaline to shoot through me.
Cass: Who the hell is this?
Who the fuck does she think it is? Is she deliberately trying to piss me off?
Me: Are you missing me, Little Demon?
Cass: I’m going to block your number.
Irritation builds inside me like a volcano, and I grind my jaw from side to side. What I really wanted was a nude of her, something to keep me going on this god-awful job, but something tells me she’s going to make me work for getting her to comply. I tap out a response.
Me: Do that and I’ll make you pay.
Me: I’ll make that little mouth of yours so raw you won’t be able to speak to your kid.
Cass: I’m working. Go away.
Me: Give me answers and I’m gone.
Morgue pushes off the wall. “Ready?” he grunts out like it pains him to speak. The man’s face is stoic, barely ever twitching with any emotion. Whatever he went through as a kid has scarred him for life, and I can’t help but feel protective of the man who doesn’t let anyone near him.
Glancing back down at my phone, I sigh at her lack of response. Did I really expect her to, though? I guess there’s a thrill in the chase, because she’s just going to make it up to me later.
“Yeah, let’s roll out.” I lift my chin and flick my cigarette onto the ground, then push off the wall and head over to my hog. Throwing a leg over it, all the tension leaves my body.
The rumble of our engines starting has a familiar rush of adrenaline surging through me. “Ride till we fall! Unholy to the core!” we chant in unison, filling me with the sense of belonging I feel deep in my bones.
As we ride out of the parking lot, my mind flicks back to Cassidy and, weirdly, the kid. I might be a savage, but I hope to Christ he didn’t see something that would scar him for life too.
Brian Beckett, or BB as we like to call him, shakes hands with Warrior and throws himself down in the dingy office chair while the prospects unload the weapons into a waiting crate for further transportation.
“You know, I heard a rumor recently,” he says between chomping obnoxiously on his gum.
I take another puff of my cigarette, wishing it was a blunt, but knowing how strong our latest batch is, I need my wits about me to drive back to the clubhouse.
“You wanna narrow that rumor down?” Warrior mumbles, eyeing him, with booted feet up on Brian’s desk like he owns the place.
Brian licks his lips and shifts forward, resting his hands on the table as if he’s about to tell us a big secret. He glances around the room, acting even more cryptically. Warrior lifts an eyebrow, unimpressed by his dramatics.
“I heard that the girl you’re searching for isn’t dead after all.”
A dull haze of blurriness falls over me. It isn’t until a torturous scream erupts from BB that I realize Slash has his hand pinned to the office desk with a knife.
“You’re gonna want to elaborate, motherfucker.” He presses down on the knife and twists it while I remain motionless, almost paralyzed in my own body.
“Ahhh, fuck!” Brian screeches. “Ahh, ease up, man. Ease up.” He slaps the desk with his free hand.
Warrior tips his chin in Slash’s direction, and I watch on from the office door as Slash slowly releases his hold but leaves the knife firmly in place.
“C-Can you …?” BB gestures toward the knife.
Warrior’s eyes darken. “No, elaborate first.” The tone of his voice is threatening, deadly even.
“Okay. Okay.” His chest heaves. “So the sentencing was not too long ago, right?” Warrior nods while I remain rooted to the spot, still dumbfounded this fucker claims to know something about my sister.
“Well, I heard some guys in the local bar say she wasn’t dead.
That they saw her walking around Jacksonville.
” I flinch at the familiar spot. Jacksonville is where our grandmother lived.
As kids, we went every summer to spend time with her.
It was our safe haven, one of the few memories I treasure, and I know Alisha does too.
Every muscle in my body coils. Could this be true?
Dread replaces the usual surge of hope inside me.
The police found valid evidence that she was no longer alive.
The sick bastards she got messed up with are human traffickers, murderers, the lowest sick bastards society offers.
She’s dead. She has to be.
Alisha would never let me suffer the way I have been. Never.
“What bar?” Warrior asks.
“Eleven’s,” he hisses on a grimace.
“Which guys?” Slash asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His fingers twist in the palm of his hand as if he’s itching to play with his knife.
“I don’t know their names.” Brian glances down at his hand, his face deathly pale.
“But I could show you?” His eyes implore Warrior’s, and I want to point out how desperate he sounds, but the mention of my sister has a familiar lead resting in my stomach, weighing me down, and my mouth cannot construct words.
My gaze darts to Warrior, and he’s already watching me. A silent conversation passes between us; it could be a trap.
Warrior drops his feet to the floor and leans forward. “You’re going to take me and my brother to the bar.” He gestures toward Slash. “And we ain’t leaving until we speak to them. If you so much as give anyone a heads-up, I’ll let Slash here fuck you up.”
The sheer shock on Brian’s face would be comical if I weren’t feeling so immobile. My heart hammers, and my blood rushes through my body frantically.
Is my sister alive after all?
Cassidy’s face flashes in front of my eyes. She’s lying. She knows something, and I’m going to make sure I find out exactly what that something is.
One way or another, I’ll make her spill her secrets; and, in turn, she’ll pay for her brother’s sins.
Each and every one of them.