11. Dax
DAX
Knowing Picasso was watching me I entered the house without another word.
These idiots, like I was upset about being left alone, unsupervised in their house.
Pa-lease, I was never one to turn my back on an opportunity that was handed to me.
I looked around the living room trying to decide where to start gettin’ my super snoop skills on.
Then decided it was smarter to work top to bottom, the lower level was easier to have access to even if they were all around.
First I stopped by the kitchen to grab a drink out of the fridge.
Yanking it open I found that it was fully stocked with real food, it almost looked like Weston had just gone shopping at our house.
Spotting a row of beers I snagged on and popped the top.
Glancing over at the clock I shrugged, it was after twelve o’clock.
“Fuck it, not like I’m going anywhere that I needed to be sober,” I muttered to myself as I wandered up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs was the first bedroom, “Which asshole would put himself in line to be killed first?”
Tossing the door open I felt slightly let down with how sparse it was. “Okay, does someone actually sleep in here?”
The room was painted a dark gray and the queen size bed was like a sea of black fabric, “Whoever did sleep in here clearly doesn’t make their bed in the morning.”
Who was I to judge I didn’t ever make my bed either.
Stepping further into the room I saw hanging on one wall was a huge poster advertising for a UFC fight.
Standing dead center fists up and piercing icy blue eyes staring me down was Void.
Only on the poster was his given name - Lachlan Kinsley.
It was dated twelve years ago for a championship in New York.
Apparently Lachlan had been a big deal in the fighting world before he became part of the Phantom Saints.
It seems in the years that have passed Void liked to travel on the light side.
Opening his closet I found it half full of random boxes that had more fighting memorabilia.
Nothing was hung but a single leather jacket that was well loved.
Leaving the closet, I rifled through his dresser and other than the fact he wore fitted style boxers there was nothing interesting.
The only thing left in the room besides a punching bag hanging from the ceiling was a side table.
Pulling open the one drawer I found condoms, a gun, box of bullets, and a picture of a rich couple with a young boy.
Looking closer at the boy I saw the telltale eyes that gave him away.
They matched his mother’s perfectly but in every other aspect he was just like his father.
When I flipped the picture over written on the back was - summer holiday in Cotswolds.
“I was right, it is a British accent,” I grinned, typically I sucked at guessing accent’s and his wasn’t very strong to my ear. “How long has he been in the US?”
Putting the picture back I closed the drawer, at least I knew where to get a gun if I needed it now. Looking around I made sure everything looked like it had when I walked in but there wasn’t much to fuck with. Off to the next room I was much more pleased to find was way more interesting.
I knew right away that this was Cognac’s room by the burgundy silk sheets alone.
The king size bed was the focal point of the room but what caught me off guard was one of my paintings was hung above it.
I had an art gallery that sold them for me, and because it was a hobby I never listed my name on them.
In the art world I was known as the Pink Lady.
This one had been some of the first batch I had sold, so Cognac had been a patron of mine for a while.
The image was of a woman in a red slip nightgown sprawled across a white bed, her black hair swirling around her.
What made this painting truly pop was the fact it seemed like the woman was staring right into your soul asking for you to fuck her raw.
It was little wonder why he had picked this one to have over his bed.
I wandered over to the desk he had that was covered in paperwork around a laptop.
I popped open the laptop but of course it was locked and I didn’t have Wes on speed dial to help me unlock it.
Moving on I skimmed over the papers discovering they were just a bunch of financial reports of stocks.
This was so not my wheelhouse it seemed like another language to me.
What did catch my eye was a handwritten list of names in a notebook.
Names that I was very familiar with because they were my people.
Each of them I had groomed to help me on my enforcement team.
“Is this how they found me?”
Flipping through the notebook I found more information about me and the leads they had connecting me to Tricks. They're good, I’ll have to give them that but the one person who started the manhunt for them was Kimber.
“I’ll kill that fucking bitch for this. Brother’s widow or not she’s crossed the line giving me up to them.” I growled feeling my anger grow.
Nothing else on the desk or in the drawers gave me much else to go on.
Still bitter at being betrayed, I stormed down the stairs tossing the beer bottle into the sink and scoured the kitchen for something stronger.
After the third try I struck gold, every shelf was full of every type of liquor I could think of.
I grabbed a bottle of brandy and a cup taking them both with me back upstairs.
I passed the room I’d woken up in and the bathroom coming to the last door.
It was slightly ajar so I nudged it open with my elbow and paused before walking in.
The whole room looked like an engine through up everywhere.
Parts and tools were scattered all over the floor and rested on any flat surface that could be found.
The bed was a small twin mattress on the floor that was shoved in the corner.
Part company signs were hung on the walls with posters of different motorcycles.
“Yup, not even gonna try and look around in that room. I might get tetanus from something in there.” I muttered backing out of the room.
This time I didn’t bother shutting the door. They weren’t hiding anything in that room. Heading back down I went for Eagle’s room having saved it for last. Picasso must have a room elsewhere on the compound not having seen any other rooms in the house.
Back in Eagle’s room I sat in his armchair next to his bookshelves and set my brandy on the side table after pouring a glass.
Shifting I looked over the room again now that I had the time to do it at my leisure.
It was all very modern but masculine. He had expensive taste and liked the finer things even if he didn’t let it show openly.
The bed was something I had never seen before, it was a platform but it was much wider than the mattress that was polished black wood.
It had two steps up yet the mattress was sunk into the platform giving off an interesting illusion.
The sheets were a soft grey to match the color of his walls and were tucked in with military precision.
Turning I scanned over the three bookshelves as I sipped my brandy.
I never would have picked Eagle to be the type to read but here before me was proof.
Many of them were about leadership, business, and a few biographies.
What surprised me was the row of the complete Harry Potter series, and from the looks of them they had been read many times.
“What do you know, Mr. President likes a little fiction in his rigid life.”
Getting bored and feeling a buzz kicking in I wandered back out to the living room and flopped belly first on the couch.
I set my glass and brandy on the coffee table and turned on the TV.
Flipping through the channels I landed on a marathon of MTV’s Catfish.
It was trash TV but I was tipsy enough to enjoy it.
Filling my glass again I spilled more than made in my glass so I gave up and took swigs from the bottle.
Drunk and lost in my TV show I had no idea how long I was left in the house by myself so when boots appeared in front of my face I was surprised.
“Do you know you're watching TV upside down?” Eagle asked me.
“This was the only way I could get the TV to stop moving,” I answered pouting at the frown on his face.
“After drinking that much brandy I’m amazed you're still able to tell you're watching TV,” Eagle said with a grin on his lips.
I liked kissing those lips. Oh! And his dick I liked kissing that too. Wonder if he would let me play with it again? Wait, was there a reason that I wasn’t going to do that again? Who fucking cares it was hot and felt amazing, I wanna do it again.
I rolled myself all the way off the couch since only my legs were the only thing still on it, the rest of me was on the floor. Kneeling I looked up at Eagle who just gave me a questioning look. I crawled up to him and grabbed his jeans to hold myself upright.
“Can I give your dick a mouth hug?” I asked as I rested my head against his crotch.
I heard laughter from behind Eagle but I couldn’t seem to lift my head to see who it could be.
Eagle didn’t answer me; he just bent down and pulled me up by my armpits.
When I was upright he grabbed my ass and lifted me like a child, wrapping my legs around his waist. I let my arms circle around his neck and nuzzled it liking the smell of him, it was spicy and wild.
The next thing I knew I was getting laid down in a bed and the covers pulled up.
After that the world went dark and I fell blissfully into it.