Chapter Twenty-FourRoman
I’m not sure what Bash told Boom Boom for the motherfucker to leave me in Salt Lake City at the American Scorpions’ clubhouse, but my brothers rode out this morning. I felt vulnerable and alone, and I missed my sister. Each time I thought about calling her, I remembered her betrayal. Carrying a Royal Bastard’s kid sickened me on its own. Knowing Reese Sinclair was the father cut like a fucking knife.
Though Kite vied for top position on my kill list, I didn’t realize how much he helped me until he left. Bash didn’t send either one of his brothers or a woman to help me. He didn’t send in food. If I hadn’t forced myself to figure out how to pull my pajama bottoms down and then use my feet to flush the toilet, I would’ve laid in my own waste since I went an entire day without seeing anyone. I used the shower to clean myself when I finished and sobbed like a bitch the entire way through. I gripped the towel between my elbows, staggered back to my room, because the weight of my self-pity overwhelmed me, and dropped the towel on the bed, rolling my body on it to dry myself as best I could.
By the time Bash sauntered in late in the evening, I lay in total darkness, completely naked, starving, fuming, and miserable.
He flipped on the overhead light. Other than a brief glance to identify my visitor, I refused to acknowledge him.
“I suppose you found a way to go to the shitter.”
His sadistic greeting pissed me the fuck off and I stiffened. “Fuck you.”
A chair scraped across the floor followed by movements that indicated Bash sat. “I’ll ignore your disrespect once. Don’t let it happen again if you like living.”
I’d wrapped my entire life around my club and my little sister. I was useless to one and wasn’t talking to the other. “Kill me. I don’t give a fuck.”
The smell of cigarette smoke traveled to me and my woe deepened. I would love a smoke. Food would be even better.
“I’d say you do,” Bash countered, chafing my nuts.
“You don’t fucking know me,” I snarled, “but let me clue you the fuck in. My sister is a traitor and I’m fucking helpless, an enforcer who can’t fucking enforce .”
“You’re only as helpless as you feel, fuckhead. When I didn’t send anyone in to help you, you made do. You weren’t fucking helpless then, were you?”
My gaze flew to him and the smirk on his pockmarked face sent anger through me. “You withheld assistance on purpose?”
He puffed on his cigarette, then took it between his two fingers. “It worked, didn’t it? The more you rely on other motherfuckers, the more dependent you’ll become.”
“Who the fuck are you to try to save me with your fucking mind games?”
“I’m not in the saving business, Roman. But I am a big brother who’d do anything for his little sister. Even when Celia has pissed me off so much I want to fucking kill her.”
“I don’t want Ainsley dead,” I said quietly, the fight leaving me. “I just feel empty. When she moved to her own apartment, I put up an argument, but she wanted her independence, so I shut the fuck up.” I blinked at the ceiling. “I’ve heard about empty nest syndrome, you know? Never thought I’d experience it.”
“It’s normal. You were her primary caregiver.”
I nodded. “I love that kid. Loved ,” I amended harshly, and changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on my complicated feelings. “Mom and Dad would be so proud of her.”
“Would they be proud of you?”
“I hope, although I didn’t do it for them particularly. I did it because Ainsley had no one else and I was her big brother. She needed me.”
“Sounds like you needed her, too.”
I’d never thought of it like that, so I shrugged.
Bash flicked ashes from his nearly gone cigarette. “She probably still needs you.”
“Doubtful,” I scoffed. “She has Sinclair.” My head was starting to hurt, so I drew in a deep breath and got to the heart of the matter. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I’m here because this is my fucking club and I can go anywhere I please. I want to check on you and ask why the fuck didn’t you come out to eat.” Snickering, he swept my naked body with an amused glance. “Never took you for a modest motherfucker, but I suppose I understand why you didn’t make an appearance.”
“It’s habit,” I said, scorn dripping from me. “I don’t want Ainsley seeing my cock.” Or anyone’s until she had a ring on her finger. Distaste sat thick within my gut. I moved onto another thought of how Ainsley had seen my ass on a few unfortunate occasions.
In silence, Bash finished his cigarette, then he threw it on the floor and stomped it. I remained silent, resenting his amusement at my plight, his intrusion, and his presence. He was right, though. My room belonged to him. For that matter, it seemed as if I belonged to him, too. All the promises he’d made about the prosthetics weren’t sincere. I’d gone to bed with a modicum of hope that I would have a sense of normalcy soon. In hindsight, I expected to be left with Bash for him to help me, but I hadn’t expected to be abandoned.
“Are you hungry?”
My jaw clamped. I refused to answer that motherfucker. I hadn’t eaten or drank anything since yesterday.
“Do you need a smoke? A drink? A cock suck?”
All the above. I’d rather gnaw off my toes than admit that.
“Do you know why I offered to help you?”
He didn’t intend to leave without my engagement. “You already told me.”
“Maybe I want you to repeat it.”
“Maybe I don’t feel like it.”
“Maybe I’ll throw you out in the fucking desert and see if your fucking survival skills kick in. If you make it back, I’ll really help you. If you die, then it’s no more than you deserve for being such a pathetic motherfucker.”
Without pondering what I could and couldn’t do, I shot into a sitting position, ready to headbutt him. If not for the .44 pointed at me, I would have.
I raised my arms, unable to truly surrender. Shame poured into me and I flicked my glance over the stitches. Narrowing my eyes, I processed the fact that my bandages were gone.
“Self-pity is as soul destroying as any addiction,” Bash said calmly, still holding the gun on me. “When you’re pushed, you do what you must, so why not take balls in hand and make the most of what you have?”
I dropped my gaze to the floor and lowered my arms.
“I’m out of credit with most of my suppliers. I refuse to touch the club’s merchandise because, well, I don’t want to end up like Big Joe Foy.”
Since I didn’t know who the fuck that was, I didn’t respond.
“Mind over matter is surprisingly effective. It’s what Daddy always said. Didn’t get a clue the first couple times he beat my ass for my addiction, but that last one? After I OD’d? That lives with a man. My father loved me. His brand of tough love was the wake-up call I needed. I learned to control myself when I couldn’t get my hands on coke. Don’t mean it don’t feel like I’m crawling out of my fucking skin sometimes. It just means my father impressed upon me the necessity of mind over matter.”
New form of therapy: abuse. I managed not to snort since Bash seemed so convinced his father’s treatment was right.
Lowering his gun, he fell silent, allowing me to turn his words over in my head. I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
“I relieved Boom Boom of a hefty amount of cash. On behalf of you,” he added with a chuckle. “Yeah, I think a man who loves his little sister as I love mine should be whole, but you disappointed me today. You turned yourself into an invalid.”
“Exactly what the fuck I am. Hands are important. Physically, psychologically, socially. I didn’t lose one. I lost both. I can’t even surrender with dignity.”
“If you feel like you’re a cripple, I don’t need to waste my fucking resources on you.”
“Cripple is an ugly word. And it isn’t your resources. It’s my president’s.”
“Who’d just as soon see you dead.”
“Did he tell you that?”
Bash shrugged. “If not you, then Ainsley.”
“He walked that back and decided to sell her to you.” As if that was any better. She would’ve been little more than a sex slave, destined for a slow, painful death. “Execution might’ve been better.”
Not responding, Bash studied me before finally asking, “Why should I help you, Roman?”
“You took Boom Boom’s money. Fucking over him is to your detriment.”
“I’ve fucked over more than one motherfucker in my life,” he countered without remorse. “Do you honestly think he cares if you get the fucking prosthetics? He left you with me with no questions asked. Me thinks he’s hoping I fuck you up.”
I wouldn’t put it past him. I still had my suspicions about how Warrior sniffed out my location, but my head was spinning. I no longer trusted my own president, or any of my brothers, and hesitated to trust Bash.
“Do you fucking deserve to have hands again if you’re such a whiny bitch? Surviving means rolling with the punches. You saw no one was coming in, so you took care of business. Exactly what I expect you to do. I should’ve waited to see how fucking long it took you to tuck your tail between your fucking legs and come out for food, but a situation has developed that I think you’d want to know about.”
“Which is?”
“First, your payment to me.”
“I intend to liquidate the money I saved for Ainsley—”
“I don’t want money. I want drugs. Boom Boom’s payments will only get me so much when I account for the high grade and the bumps.”
“I live in Kansas City. How the fuck can I deliver drugs to you on a regular basis? And I’m not a low-level dealer. I can send you money every month to pay your dealer, but I can’t personally deliver them.”
Bash nodded. “That’ll have to do then. First payment will be tomorrow.”
“Weren’t you high last night?”
“Used the last of my stash.” Digging into his jacket pocket, Bash pulled out my cell phone. “Who is Proctor, Missile, and Visor to you?”
“Good friends of mine. Who are they to you?”
Not answering, Bash pressed the keypad on my phone to unlock it.
“Kite gave you my code?”
“If you’re in my care, I need to know how to access your shit.”
When he held the phone up, I immediately recognized the app for the home alarm. Before I questioned what the fuck was going on, a scene from my worst nightmare played out and I listened to what those motherfuckers told Ainsley. I thought I’d watch her die, especially after the stunt she pulled. My first emotion at Reese Sinclair’s rescue was gratitude. He’d gone against three motherfuckers to save my sister. Relief and joy hit me, until I remembered he was my enemy.
“This is only from the camera in the den during the standoff,” Bash said, intruding upon my confliction. “There’s footage of them breaking in and footage of upstairs when she karate chops one of the motherfuckers and almost gets away.”
My gaze drifted back to the phone, but Bash pulled it away and tucked it back into his cut pocket.
“I’ll ask you again. Why should I help you?”
“To fuck up Nova, Kite, and Wizard,” I snarled. He was a club president, I didn’t think he’d appreciate hearing I intended to kill my own. “And any other motherfucker who crossed her.”
“Do you know the American Scorpions are older than the Death Dwellers by a few years?”
“Excuse me?” I wasn’t interested in hearing that history, nor did I fucking care. I didn’t personally know any of those motherfuckers. “And?”
“Daddy always wanted the clubs to work together. Before his death, he even considered a merger. Who’d absorb who? By the time he went to Hortensia, that idea was off the table. My uncle, Rack, started out as a Scorpion but became a Dweller. He was just in awe of Logan Donovan.”
I squinted, and Bash smiled.
“You have a problem, Roman. You’re all alone and the officers in your club want you dead. Whether Ainsley carries your enemy’s baby doesn’t matter.”
“What are you suggesting?” I asked, though I already knew and the idea insulted me. “I know it isn’t me flipping and becoming a Royal Bastard. My father would turn over in his fucking grave.”
“Your father isn’t here to help protect you and your sister.”
“I’d have a fucking bounty on my head from the Bloody Scorpions and the Royal Bastards would always look on me with suspicion.”
“Say you don’t flip and take out all the top motherfuckers. I’m sure you have some members who’d stand with you. There are always fuckheads who don’t like their president and dream of overthrowing them or supporting an asshole with the balls to attempt a coup.”
He was right. I could think of several off the top of my head.
“You’d have to get rid of all the Boom Boom loyalists. However, that would still put you at odds with Reese Sinclair.”
“That motherfucker breathing puts me at odds with him.”
Bash chuckled. “Doesn’t change the dilemma of him dropping a baby in Ainsley’s pussy.”
I glared at him. He only seemed to care that I was a good big brother. Everything else flew the fuck over his head.
“He has her firmly in his corner. Once you get over your anger, you’re going to want to be a part of her life. Your best shot may be to patch over to the Bastards.”
“Absolutely fucking not! Fuck no. I’d rather piss on those motherfuckers’ graves, then to break bread with them.”
“The feeling is probably mutual, but you don’t have to be an empty nester. You can be a doting uncle and a loving brother.”
“Or a dead one.”
“Always a risk, Roman, but I believe Reese might be willing to listen and try to help you.”
“You’re insane. He’d want nothing to do with me, and that feeling is mutual, too. I don’t understand how you reached such a fucking conclusion.
“He didn’t have to risk his life to save her. Had it been me, I certainly wouldn’t have. A dead cunt is a dead cunt.”
“I noticed how little regard you have for women,” I sneered.
“Little regard?” Bash chortled. “I hate bitches. Except Celia. Maybe if I had a bitch like Hopper or Kendall…” He shrugged. “Who knows? I’m a little obsessed with Meggie but for a different reason. Hopper isn’t out of reach and Kendall is a kid brother’s wife, who I haven’t formally met. I still intend to shoot my shot but I think she’s loyal to the brainless blond.”
Despite my annoyance that he insisted on talking about fuckheads I didn’t know, I laughed. “What does this have to do with any fucking thing? I don’t know any of those people, but I know you.”
“Doubtful. I’m more complex than you think. I’m not merely a mindless woman killer.”
“But you are a woman killer?”
His look of disapproval chafed me. “Careful, or I’ll think you have Johnnie’s brain. Or lack of.”
I lifted a brow.
“The brainless blond,” he supplied. “One of my half-brothers.”
“How many do you have?”
“Lost count years ago. The two that matter the most are Johnnie and Outlaw.”
“Your enemies?”
“Outlaw,” he said with a shrug. “Johnnie is his own fucking enemy. If he didn’t think he was the sharpest knife in the drawer, he might realize exactly who he’s betraying.” Bash grabbed a cigarette from behind his ear, then lit it with the lighter he took from his pocket. “As for why I’m telling you all this, you’re going to be here for a few weeks. I thought maybe you’d like to know a little about me.” He took a drag of his cigarette and released the smoke. “Besides, I respect a man who goes to war for his sister.”
“As long as I keep her away from you. If you hate women, my association to her wouldn’t matter.”
“She’s your sister and you’re my drug supplier. By the way, how tall is she?”
“Five seven. Why?”
“Thought she was tall. She’s very pretty. After I saw her try to stand up to those dead fucks, I had to get my cock sucked. I love a woman with long legs, a gorgeous face, and a world of bitchiness. A woman who’s a little wild and a whole lot of mean turns me on. Haven’t met many of them. Most cunts look at me like I’m the big bad wolf. And small chicks just annoy me. The world’s a better place without such weak cunts. They’re so fucking easy to break.”
I stiffened, hating the images those words provoked. I got the sense that Bash meant breaking in the literal sense.
“Have no use for little chicks but to fuck them and dispose of them,” he said around of huff of smoke. “But bitches like Ainsley, Kendall, and Hopper? If I put stock into the romances I read, that’s who I’d go for.”
Squinting, I cocked my head to the side, sure I’d misunderstood. “You read romance novels?”
“Only place I’ll ever find love.”
“Maybe, if you didn’t see women as fucking targets, you could’ve found love.”
He grunted. “Love isn’t in my cards. Neither are romance and marriage.”
“Kids are?”
“I have a bunch of them, so I suppose so. Two of them patched in to my club. I’m like Daddy. Only recognize my sons.”
“I suppose you’re like Daddy in regard to how you feel about women?”
“He didn’t have a lot of love for bitches.” Bash once again dropped his cigarette to the floor and stomped it out. “Sometimes, Daddy left me with club sluts. Ten and eleven, you don’t see broads one way or the other. They saw me as a fuck toy and a punching bag. Those sluts spat on me, burned me with hot water and cigarettes, fucked me, made me eat pussy. I swore I’d make every cunt pay once I grew up. I kept my promise. Daddy showed me what to do when he found out what they did to me.”
I didn’t know how to feel about Bash. Most of me abhorred his violence and cruelty towards women. Maybe if I hadn’t had my mother until I was fifteen, I would’ve been a brutal as Bash. My father wasn’t a cheater. He loved and respected my mother, and he adored Ainsley. He stood between me and the harsher side of club life, even when I was twenty-five.
“My father was a great man,” Bash continued. “He was almost nineteen when I was born and my momma overdosed when I was two months old. Daddy took me on the road with him and kept me at his side his entire life. My father wasn’t a good motherfucker to most people. Besides me, I can count on one hand the people he looked out for. I’m not a good motherfucker. If you don’t like me, I don’t care. I don’t like Boom Boom, insisting you sell your own sister.”
“He wants to sell his daughter.”
“Is a daughter a sister?” he demanded, scowling.
I blinked. “It’s a tad worse to most people,” I pointed out.
“I don’t agree. You know sisters first.”
I refused to argue with a man convinced he was right.
“You’re going to be here for about a month,” he said, flipping yet again and changing the subject. “Weekends are packed. Weekdays are mostly regulars. The bitch du jour has breakfast on the side table by 8AM. We’re responsible for our own lunch. Dinner is at 6PM. Food’s out until it’s gone. You miss it, you fucking starve. Church is on Wednesday evenings after dinner. Walk out this fucking room then and I have to kill you.”
“I thought you had people to take care of me sooner than that?”
“Well, motherfucker, my people can only work within the constraints of your capabilities. Hand transplants were suggested to me, but you have to be in the headspace where taking immunosuppressants for the rest of your fucking life is something you can do. Whether you live another ten years or another fifty, it has to become just a part of your routine. And, you , miserable fuckhead, aren’t there yet.”
“You aren’t inside me,” I yelled. “You don’t know what the fuck’s going on in my head to say what I’ll do.”
“Don’t have to be. I know what you’re not doing, and that’s getting up off your fucking ass and trying to take care of yourself.”
Glowering at me, he got to his feet, opened the door, and yelled, “ London! ”
Footsteps clipped down the hallway and then halted. Bash snatched a girl into my room and shoved her to me so hard she fell into my arms. Indignation flashed in her long-lashed gray eyes as she scrambled out of my embrace. Long, dark hair mantled her back and shoulders. Sweet pink lips drew my attention and I licked my own.
“Tío’s bitch,” Bash announced, thumping her shoulder.
“You’re treating your uncle’s woman like this and you expect me to believe Ainsley’s safe?”
“My uncle’s…? Tío is my son. Named him in honor of his heritage.”
I lifted a brow. “Isn’t he American like you?”
“His mother was Colombian. She met with an unfortunate end within weeks of his birth, so I claimed him and named him. DNA proved he was mine.”
Shifting her weight, London clasped her hands together. She gazed at my cock, suddenly erect, and glanced away, a blush creeping into her cheeks.
Pinning her with cold dislike, Bash nodded to her. “Little Miss London is a physical therapist. For the next month, she’s at your beck and call, though part of her duties will be to prepare you for your prosthetics. We’ll have a suitable prosthetist by this time next week.”
“You can’t keep me here against my will,” London spat. “My job will report me as missing.”
Bash balled his fist but I moved quicker than I had in days and took the blow meant for her. It landed on my chest, whereas he meant to knock her out with a hit to her head.
“Awww, such a gentleman. London,” he continued without missing a beat, “you’ve made Tío very unhappy. Maybe you can absolve yourself and get back into my good graces if you help Roman. You can suck his cock. Give him pussy and you’re dead. Your cunt, like you, belongs to my son.”
“She won’t help me if she’s here under duress.”
“Then she dies,” Bash said simply. “So I suggest you two follow my orders. You’ll get back to your sister and London will breathe another day.”