The Beloved Hack Hunk #2
He handed the binoculars over his shoulder and she took them, looking. He reached around and grabbed her ass, pulling her harder against him. “You see?”
“I don’t know, babe,” she said suspiciously. “Looks like they’re bringing stuff in too.”
Bacon reached over his shoulder and she handed the binoculars back.
He looked again.
Fuckin’ fuck, just what the hell were they doing?
“Maybe they squattin’,” Phelony whispered.
They were moving too weird for that. So far he counted four. They moved almost chaotic. In a hurry maybe. For what, exactly?
“You think it’s them Viki’s?”
Bacon’s muscles stilled at the thought. “They better pray it ain’t them.”
“Cause of Bullets?”
“Hell yeah.”
Could be worse things, though. None he wanted to consider but had to.
His first hunch he’d had the day Seer mentioned checking the hatch crept up on him.
It was a worst-case scenario hunch, the kind that ended in bloodshed.
He liked action but he did not like the idea of killing another person.
He’d seen what it had done to all the brother’s who had.
Strong as fuck brothers. So, hell no, he wanted zero parts of that.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Get that for me, Bee,” he whispered, counting five people now. No kids that he could see. Kids would likely mean drifters. He considered what they’d have to do to even reach that side of the hatch given it was water-locked.
“It’s The Revelator!” she hissed.
Bacon reached over his shoulder, keeping the binoculars pressed to his face.
“I answered it already,” she whispered, putting the phone in his hand.
“Seer.”
“Theo.”
Bacon’s pulse jumped at his urgent tone.
“Eveque called us all to Bullets hatch,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Checking out those shadows,” he whispered. “Turns out you were sure right.”
“Son, listen to me.”
Bacon’s adrenalin spiked at the fear he heard in his rough voice.
“Do not engage in any way. Get to Bullets’ place immediately. King Nidev got some of the intel from 8-Bit’s drones. Those Dead Kings are on the move, and they’re not working alone.”
****
Bishop pressed the phone to his ear as he power-walked towards Bullet’s place. “We don’t know what the breach is yet,” he said to a frantic Beth. “It could be nothing, but it could be something, this is a precaution. We’ve got eyes on them while we discuss how to proceed.”
He ducked around branches on the path, his adrenalin pumping. “We talked about these scenarios, remember? Tell me who is most important?”
Beth choked out a hesitant, “I…”
“Don’t fuck around about this, Beth,” he ordered, his fears hammering him. “Who is most important?”
“The baby,” she strained.
“You and the baby, you understand? You and the baby.”
“Yes. Me and the baby,” she whispered. “I understand, I won’t do anything you’d think is stupid, I promise, I love you.”
“I can feel your Sinrik questions,” he said, his fears allowing no room even for his sick jealousy. “He’s in my Hatch being seen to. There’s something in him we found but can’t identify.”
“Oh my God.”
“It’s not dangerous,” he said, her terror cutting through him. “Not to us. Seer saw that much.”
“Oh thank God,” she barely said. “Oh thank you God. I drank his blood.” Terrified regret strained her voice.
“You’re okay,” he swore to her, his own panic returning with all the fucking unknowns still. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Whatever Sinrik could possibly have in his blood, I can deal with.”
“I miss you so much. We both do, I can feel him… needing to feel you close.”
Those words and her desperate need crashed into his own hunger he’d put on lockdown. “The second I know what the fuck is going on, I’m coming to you, Angel.”
“Sahvrin,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I’m… I’m not afraid.” She let go of a sob, ripping him apart. “It’s our son, he’s… I can’t explain it but it’s like I’m… disconnected from my own humanity. I should be terrified and it’s… it’s just not there.”
Fuck, he needed to touch her to make sure she was okay. For his own fucking sanity. “This is good, Ma Belle Eveque. I have plenty of fear for the three of us.”
“H-have you thought of names? For our son?”
He traced the sound in her voice to worry and confusion. “No, baby, I haven’t. Should I have?”
“No,” she sniffled. “I just…”
Fuck, she was crying again.
“I just hear things,” she barely managed around breaths.
Bullet’s place came into view. He had one more fucking minute while she needed an hour more.
“Please don’t hate me but… I have to tell you this.”
He stopped in his tracks, his ears picking up odd sounds. “I will never fucking hate you. Nothing will touch our love, do you understand?” He shoved a hand through his hair, moving it from his face. “Now tell me.”
He counted her breaths, fighting for patience.
“I feel like… I’m… supposed to be near him for some reason.
Not for blood,” she hurried, too aware of his insane jealousy.
And not aware enough. “I don’t know why he’s so…
connected to him. And it’s not just the blood,” she swore quietly. “It was there before that.”
“I don’t know why that is either, but we’ll figure it out.”
“It’s almost like I get… sick. I feel sick or weak. And tired.”
“The second I’m done here, I’m coming to get you. I’ll take you where he is, I’ll find out about this connection when I do.” He realized it was a possible back door into the Sinrik mystery. Her connection to him. He could learn it through her.
The idea repulsed him.
“How?” she whispered, doomed sounding.
“I’ll make love to you. And I’ll learn every secret hiding inside your beautiful mind and body.”
She exploded his blood with the barest whimper of ecstasy and relief. “You’re going to blow me apart with pleasure?” His chest constricted at the last word she barely choked out. “I’m a mess without you.”
“Oui, tu l'es. Comme tu devrais l'être.”
She gasped then moaned, “Oh Bishop, I miss you speaking French to me.”
“I’m at Bullets. I will call you in thirty minutes. Stay inside with Mah-Mah, oui?”
“Oui, but wait,” she hurried.
“What is it, Angel?”
“What did you say? In French?”
“I said ‘you should be a mess without me’. Are you locked in?”
“I’m in your room upstairs,” she said, back to crying.
“That is perfect, just like you, Angel,” he whispered. “I will be in your arms soon.”
And God help whatever got in his way.
“Bishop!” she shot out quietly.
“What, Mah Belle Ange?”
She choked out a single sob. “I’m so happy that you found me that night.”
This angel.
“I would gladly suffer anything to have you,” she whispered hotly.
“It is you who found me, Ma Petite. And when I found you, I found heaven. Before you, I was living in hell. Fuck, Ma Petite, your tears are breaking my heart.”
“I’m sorry,” she wailed quietly. “You are so, so beautiful. I love you so much. Please, please be safe, I need you.”
Mon Dieu. “I’ll keep you on the phone with me, this meeting won’t take long, oui? You’ll be in my pocket. Right next to my cock,” he added hoping to distract her.
She gave him the sexiest, desperate moan and tiny, “Okay,” that made him need to fuck her like an animal. “Thank you.”
“You will thank me properly later. I’m at the door.”
“Okay. I’ll be laying in our bed,” she said, voice strained with emotion.
“Pleasure yourself for me,” Bishop said quietly, his sexual hunger mixing with his growing blood lust. “That’s a fucking order,” he added, sliding the phone in his back pocket.
He locked his mind on the immediate shitstorm and knocked on the door then entered the chaotic conversation in Bullet’s living room.
“Anybody locate 8-Bit or Cat yet?” Bishop called out, wondering where the fuck he could be.
“Negative,” Hurricane said as the rest of his brother’s all said the same.
“Spook, hit his phone with the Reveille alarm,” Bishop said. “We need him, and every single body on deck.”
“So, what’s going on with these so-called Dead Kings?” Spar asked.
Bishop remembered Beth’s ears were in his pocket then decided her knowing the exact truth was mandatory given her position. “Nidev thinks they’re building an army, but I’m not convinced, not until we learn that with our own eyes.”
“What do you think’s happening?” Nitro asked.
Bullets arrived with a big bowl of gumbo and Bishop stared at it for several seconds, his gifts interpreting the simple gesture like some foreign anomaly.
“You should eat,” Bullets said.
His words entered the high-speed warfare in his head and instantly became a critical command. He took the bowl and answered the basic human need that had been pushed down to the bottom of a long list of other logistical needs. All of them survival related.
“There’s plenty, brother,” Bullets muttered, as he wolfed down the contents.
“Fuck, this is good,” Bishop breathed, wishing the spoon was bigger. He brought the bowl to his mouth and drank the rest down, sounds of ecstasy in his throat.
At the last drop of fuel, he stood there with his eyes closed, breathing through the satisfying aftermath.
“Bring him another fucking bowl,” Bullets ordered, pissed. “When’s the last time you ate, son?”
Bishop registered the absence of noise in the room and found all eyes on him. He took the second bowl when it arrived and drank it down the same way, his other critical demands getting impatient. Their sharp teeth demanded to be unleashed on every threat racing toward them.
Bullets took the bowl when he lowered it and handed him a gallon of milk.
Bishop’s thirst kicked in and he guzzled half of it, aware of Lesion making his way closer for a better look at his wettest fucking anomaly dream.