Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Bane
Cutting the motor, the engine tinks and ticks as I pull off my brain bucket and climb off.
The warehouse raid was a fucking bust. No Heather, no leads, no nothing but a fat waste of fucking time. The building was completely empty except for some old mattresses.
And now I’ve got to face Frankie. Christ. I’m not used to explaining myself to anyone.
“What’s eating you?” Tacoma asks, walking up beside me and lighting a cigarette.
I sigh, running a hand over my face. “How do you do it?”
His brow furrows. “Gonna have to be a little more specific, little brother.”
“How do you make Foxy understand that you can’t tell her club business?”
My brother takes a long toke off the Red in his hand, then exhales smoke through his nose. “She grew up in the life. Her Grandfather, her father, and her brother are all Saints. Not sure our situations are the same.”
I groan, scrubbing my hands over my face. This is all so fucking complicated. Frankie isn’t like my Ma or Foxy. She doesn’t understand how shit works. She has to fucking trust me to do what’s best.
“You claiming her?” My brother cocks his head to the side, studying me carefully.
Grunting, I hold his stare. Frankie’s mine.
He nods in understanding, then asks, “You tell her about her father yet?”
My stomach drops. Fuck. That’s the last thing I want to think about.
How the hell do I tell Frankie that the Sinners killed her old man at The Pretty Kitties, and we covered it up to protect our own asses?
That we let her believe he ran off with his secretary because it kept people from asking questions?
“Not yet,” I finally answer.
“Bit of advice?”
I lift my head, waiting.
“The truth has a way of coming out, so you might want to tell her before she finds out some other way.”
“Yeah.” I don’t have a fucking clue how I’m going to have that conversation, but he’s right. It’s gonna come out eventually, and it’ll be a thousand times worse if she hears it from someone else.
Tacoma pats me on the shoulder. “Grab your woman. Let’s all go to Eagle’s Bar and blow off some steam.”
Maybe that’s a good idea. A few beers, some music, get Frankie out of her head for a while. “Yeah, alright.”
We head inside the clubhouse, but as I scan the room, I don’t see the troublemaker anywhere. My heart rate ticks up immediately.
“Where’s Frankie?” I ask, looking between Foxy and my mother, who are sitting at the bar.
They exchange a look. “We thought she was with you,” my mom says, her brow furrowed.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I take off in a jog out the back door, heading straight for Cyber’s command center. If she’s not there, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.
Punching in the security code in the vault door, I hold my breath until the door swings open and…
Thank fuck.
There she is. Sitting next to Cyber, her fingers flying across the keyboard in front of her, eyes glued to the screen.
Feeling eyes on her, Frankie looks up and arches a blonde brow.
“Did you find her?” Cyber asks, hope in his voice.
My eyes flick to him and I shake my head. “The place was empty.”
Frankie’s face falls, and I feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet. She was hoping we’d find the girl. “I’m sorry, baby.” I crouch down beside her chair and take her hand. “We’ll find her. I promise.”
“I know.”
I look past her to the code running across her screen as I get back to my feet, then turn my attention back to her tired face. “Let’s get out of here for a while.”
Nodding, she climbs out of her chair. She looks exhausted, like she’s been going full throttle since I left her.
“Everyone’s heading to Eagle’s,” I tell Cyber. “You should come. Take a break.”
Cyber stands and stretches his arms over his head. “I think I will.”
I wrap my arm around Frankie’s shoulders and lead her out, feeling her lean into me. I know she’s worried about the missing girl, but running herself into the ground won’t help anyone. She needs a break, whether she realizes it or not.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I wait for Frankie to come out of the bathroom.
After we left the vault, we stopped by the clubhouse to find some clothes for her.
My mom, ever the fucking meddler, already had a bag of girly shit ready for her.
Frankie had peeked inside, her eyes lighting up, and insisted she needed a shower before we went to Eagle’s.
I’ve been half-hard just thinking about what might be in that bag for the last forty minutes.
The bathroom door opens, pulling me from my thoughts, and I almost swallow my fucking tongue.
Holy. Shit.
Frankie steps out, and my eyes travel the length of her.
Her blonde hair hangs loose around her shoulders, smooth and shiny, and she’s wearing makeup—not too much, just enough to make her doe eyes pop and her pink lips glossy.
Her tits are pushed up and on display in the red shirt with a split at the neck.
It’s all sexy as fuck, but it’s the black leather pants that hug her thighs and the red heels on her feet that have my complete attention.
Fuck me running! She’s the hottest bitch I’ve ever seen.
I lick my lips. Before this night is over, I’m going to fuck her in nothing but those goddamn shoes.
“What do you think?” she asks, a small smile playing on her lips like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
I get off the bed and pull her into my arms, grinding my hard cock against her belly. “Feel that?”
She giggles.
“That’s what I think about those goddamn shoes.”
She looks up at me through her dark lashes and bites her pouty lip. “You like the shoes, huh?”
I grunt. Fuck yes, I like the shoes. Dropping my head, I brush my lips against the side of her neck. “We could just stay here,” I suggest, my voice rough as I reach for the button on her pants.
She pushes me back, shaking her head. “Nope. You promised me a night out, and I want to see this bar of yours.”
I groan. Me and my big fucking mouth. “Fine, but you’re gonna pay for this later.” I adjust myself in my jeans.
“Is sex all you think about?” Her eyes are lit up.
“Babe. Have you looked at yourself?”
She smiles softly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
I don’t know about that, but I take her hand anyway and lead her out of the loft, down the steps, and to the front of the clubhouse where my bike is waiting.
“Ever ridden before?” I ask, grabbing the helmet.
She shakes her head. “No. First time for everything though, right?”
My lips twitch. That’s my baby. Fuckin’ fearless.
“Put your feet here,” I explain, showing her where the passenger pegs are. “And hold on to me tight. Got it?”
She nods, looking a little nervous.
Pushing her hair off her shoulders, I strap the helmet onto her head, making sure it’s secure. “There. All set.”
“What about you?” she asks.
“I’ll be fine.”
I swing my leg over the bike and settle into the seat, then offer her my hand.
Frankie takes it and throws a leg over the seat, climbing on behind me.
Her arms go around my middle when she scoots closer, and I breathe in her perfume.
It’s something sweet and floral that makes my mouth water.
Closing my eyes, I savor the moment. Frankie’s warm body pressed against mine, her tits against my back, her scent filling my senses. This is what heaven must feel like.
“Is this okay?”
“Perfect, baby,” I sigh, opening my eyes and starting the bike.
Frankie tightens her arms around me, and I pat her thigh reassuringly before kicking up the stand, twisting the throttle, and roaring out of the lot.
Time to show my baby how the Kings cut loose.
Eagle’s Bar is packed when we arrive. I park around back, away from the crowd of bikes and cars in the main lot. Cutting the engine, I feel Frankie’s grip loosen around my waist.
“That was amazing,” she says, her voice filled with excitement as she climbs off the bike.
I swing my leg over and stand, turning to help her with the helmet. As I unfasten the strap and lift it off her head, I’m struck again by how fucking beautiful she is. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright with adrenaline, and her hair is a little mussed from the helmet.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, cupping her face in my hands.
She bites her lower lip, and I lose the little restraint I have left.
I crash my mouth to hers, kissing her hard and deep, pouring all the things I don’t know how to say into it.
This thing between us is crazy. It’s been fast and furious, but it feels right.
I’m not sure what happens when all of this is over.
When we find the girl, shut down the trafficking ring, and she has her answers about her father, when she learns how the Kings are involved.
She’ll never forgive me when she knows everything.
“Get a room,” Journey’s voice cuts through my darkening thoughts.
Breaking the kiss, I turn my head to see him walking up the alley with a leggy brunette hanging off his arm. The manwhore never quits.
“Fuck off,” I growl, wrapping my arm around Frankie’s shoulders.
Journey just laughs, holding the back door open for us to go in first.
“Thanks,” Frankie says politely.
My lips twitch. Always with the manners, this one.
We step inside, and every head in the joint turns our way, their eyes focusing solely on the woman beside me. A deep rumble vibrates in my chest.
“Did you just growl?” Frankie asks, looking up at me with amusement.
I grunt and pull her closer, making it clear to everyone in this motherfucker that she’s with me. Mine.
“Keep walking, troublemaker.”
She giggles, and I settle slightly when I feel her slip her hand in my back pocket. A subtle claim of her own.
Weaving through the crowd, I spot Foxy and my brother at the bar.
“There you are!” she calls, her eyes lighting up when she gets a look at Frankie. “Holy shit, girl! You look smoking hot!”
“Thanks.” Frankie blushes, fitting herself tighter against my side.