Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
FREAK
And she does get to it. Boy, does she get to it.
Ask me to number the times I’ve had my dick sucked and I wouldn’t even be able to give an estimate.
I will admit, I’ve never had an experience like the one with Trixie this morning.
I swear I lost consciousness, it felt like my brains were being sucked out through my dick.
I recognised the reason why it was so much better.
For one, the person kneeling at my feet was the person who I realise I love.
For another, that she’s feeling the same way for me was shining out of her eyes.
She wasn’t playing a role as a club girl, doing what was expected of her.
She really wanted to give me pleasure, and not because it was her job.
All that was evident in the way she touched me, whether with her hands, talented tongue or lips, and when she teasingly grazed me with her teeth.
It showed in how she kept her eyes on my face, analysing how her actions were affecting me and adjusting what she was doing based on my reaction.
There was no hurry, no race to the end. It’s hard to put into words the connection we shared.
It made such a difference I could never have expected in my wildest dreams.
Once she’d finished me off and swallowed every drop, it was time for me to get to church. After kissing her, not even caring I could taste myself, as it was mingling with the remaining tang of her in my mouth, I’d left the room feeling I was walking on air.
At one time Trixie might have given all my brothers blow jobs, and probably multiple times, but I can fucking guarantee they hadn’t had one anywhere near what I had just experienced.
The difference between an action fuelled by love, rather than duty or expectation was out of this world.
As I walk toward my fate, there’s a spring in my step, and in my mind there’s clarity.
It no longer matters to me that Trixie’s been a club girl.
Like it doesn’t bother her that I’ve been with uncountable numbers of women.
My greatest desire is to make love to her properly, and I can’t do what I want until her sore ribs are healed.
It makes me want to go back and kill Candyman all over again.
But I’ll wait. I’ve no desire to find a substitute to tide me over, even my hand’s going to get a reprieve.
And that cements just how deeply I feel about her.
I’ll wait, because one day in the not-so-distant future I’ll brush the dust off my handcuffs…
In another hour, or maybe even less, I could be kicked out of the club.
But even that thought doesn’t stop the smile spreading on my face as I envision her, captive on my bed, blindfolded while I work her over with a flogger, and maybe some other toys I’ve neglected for far too long.
Oh, yeah, when she’s healed, we’re going to have fun.
“Fuck me, Freak’s fuckin’ grinning.” Woody looks much like he’s seen an apparition as I enter the meeting room. He even goes so far as to cross himself. “Now I’m fuckin’ scared about this emergency meeting.”
“Doesn’t look like a man whose kid was kidnapped the day before last,” Rat remarks scornfully, sitting back and linking his hands behind his head.
Winchester plants his fist in Rat’s arm. “He looks like a man whose kid was returned unharmed.”
“Still don’t trust that smile.” Woody’s back on topic again.
Making an effort to force my features into their customary scowl, I take out my seat and sit down.
My eyes do a tour of the table. Everyone except Bullseye and Saint are here.
A couple are complaining that their afternoon’s been interrupted.
Others are discussing among themselves possible reasons for the impromptu meeting.
Words and Stalker punctuate their discussion with the kind of gestures that make me think they’re talking about their bikes.
My brothers. Some who I’ve ridden with ever since I joined the club, some who’ve come along later.
But all are men who wear the same patch and who I wouldn’t hesitate to give my life for theirs.
In just a few minutes, instead of treating me with the respect I’ve earned as the enforcer, they might look at me with hatred instead.
Would they really send me out bad? Would they burn the Kings of Anarchy tat off my back? Would they turn on me? Surely showing mercy isn’t that bad a crime?
Do I regret I could have saved myself this anguish by ending Toni’s life? If I went back in time, would I put that bullet into her head?
No. Now’s not the time to reconsider, and even if I had those minutes back again, I’d have done nothing differently.
Toni was a misguided fool, easily led, but the root lay in the fact she’d lost her family.
But it’s also my trump card, in ensuring her silence.
Toni would do anything to reconnect with Ace.
Ironically, my lenience might mean I’ll now lose my brothers.
I grimace. I’m putting my all on the line assuming I read Toni correctly. Her desire to leave the door open for a relationship with my son overcoming any desire for revenge. She wins nothing by taking the Arizona Kings down. I can only hope I can persuade my brothers around to my way of thinking.
Looking up, I see Tempest staring at me. Does he know what we’re here for?
But I need wonder no longer, as Bullseye strides in, closely followed by the VP. Both have serious expressions on their faces.
Wasting no time, Prez bangs the gavel as soon as he sits down. All eyes look to him.
“It’s been a tumultuous couple of days,” he starts. “We fuckin’ beat the MDMC, got Ace back unharmed.” He reminds them of the positives for which I’m grateful. And though we’ve had this discussion before, everyone stamps, claps or hoots at the repetition.
“Nobody fucks with the Kings!” Piston roars. His words are echoed by everyone, and for a moment the sound is deafening.
Bullseye waits for the renditions of our motto to die down.
Then he wipes his hand over his face, his brow furrowing in its wake.
“Brothers, I’ve called you here on a serious matter.
” He closes his eyes, then raises his head as he opens them, stress marks showing his emotion.
“When we agree on a course of action, I expect it to be carried out. Especially if not doing so puts our club in danger.”
I see Words’ mouth form an O, as he pointedly looks my way.
Prez continues. “We voted that Freak either kept Toni close, or ended her.” He snaps his head to the side and looks straight at me.
“Instead, Freak let her leave.” He lets that sink in, then shifts his gaze down the table.
“Words and Winchester reported that to me, Freak didn’t have the respect to tell me himself… ”
“I was going to…” I start.
“But you had ‘better’,” he puts the word in air quotes, “things to do.”
“Like making sure my son was alright.” I snap. That had been top priority. Along with clearing the air with Trixie.
He continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “I told Words and Win that we’d discuss what Freak has done with everyone present.
” His eyes sharpen. “In my view, what the enforcer did could have put the club at risk. We’re here today to discuss whether Freak’s action is sufficient to strip him of his rank, even his patch.
” There’s a sharp intake of air all around the table, and I’m suddenly the subject of scrutiny.
Prez leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Over to you, Brothers.”
I feel like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut by the way they’re all looking at me, hurt in their eyes. Tempest, in particular, is sadly shaking his head.
Rattler throws up his hands. “What the fuck were you thinking?” He glares at me. “She was a witness to you killing Candyman, and knew the club took out other members of the MDMC.”
Woody purses his lips. “Actually, she only saw Freak put a bullet in the MDMC VP and the asshole who was with him. She was whisked out of there fast. She didn’t witness anything else.”
“That’s true,” Words states. “It would be her word against Freak’s, and the rest of us are scot free.
There’s no evidence to put us there, except for the MDMC, and they won’t talk to the Feds.
” He’s right, though we left no calling card, they’ll know it was us, even if we weren’t wearing our cuts – who else would rescue Ace from under their noses?
They’ll want revenge, but that’s a problem to come.
“Why the fuck did you just let her leave?” Tempest gets to the heart of the matter.
I sit forward, placing my arms on the table and linking my hands. “I’ve killed women for Uncle Sam, when they were carrying guns or bombs and targeting them at US Forces...”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rat drawls, “We all know you were a fuckin’ hero.”
“Shut it, Rat,” Saint snarls.
I continue as if I hadn’t been interrupted.
“I’ve never raised my hand to a woman who acted wrong for, however misguided, what to her were the best of intentions.
” I raise my eyes, and one by one meet those of my brothers.
“Toni came here for Ace, and he means the world to her. And, while Ace doesn’t want anything to do with her now, in time he might.
She’s his only link to his mother. So I had two problems carrying out my instructions.
One, my own ethics, and my judgment that Toni’s crimes didn’t deserve a death sentence, and two, that I couldn’t face my son, and tell him I’d killed his blood relative. ”
“Fancy words,” Piston observes. “But did you not think of the club?” He waves his hand at Words. “I heard what you said, Brother. But what do the Feds care about evidence? They’re just looking for one sniff of trouble to come pull this club apart.”
“They could do that any time on a whim,” Paint puts in.