Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
DEUCE
Two weeks later, we have everything ready to open The End on the following night. Ace and I stand in the center of the bar, surveying our work.
“Gotta tell you, when I first saw this place, I thought you were fuckin’ crazy, but you were right, it definitely had potential.”
I take in everything from the polished wood bar, brass fittings, new bar stools, shiny barware to the beer taps not clogged with shit.
Top-shelf liquor is stocked behind the bar in front of huge mirror with the Kings logo etched into the glass.
Pool tables in the back with framed posters of vintage Harleys on the walls, and hot babes straddling those Harleys.
Shit, it’s a biker bar, but opening it up for the public will give people the feel of walking on the wild side even if only for a night.
Lastly, we knocked the wall down in the office, expanding the room, and sectioning off our room for church, complete with a separate doorway and a key-coded lock.
I still don’t have the table I want, but all in good time, ‘cause my funds are nearly gone. I’m not worried though ‘cause once we get both The End and the Royal Flush running, we would be raking in the cash.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, brother.” I hold out my fist, and we tap. “Couldn’t have done without all of you.”
The other brothers are over at the Royal Flush surveying the damage, but they all know how I feel. We’ve worked toward a common goal, and nothing is gonna stand in our way.
“You were the one who made it happen. I never would’ve believed you could pull off the deal with Sammie, but you did.” Ace smirks. “And you did it without taking your dick outta your pants.”
I huff out a laugh but stay silent.
I never would’ve thought Sammie would make a deal with us, but she did, and now The Kings are back in Atlantic City to stay. No more bullshit, no more fuck-ups.
I also never thought Sammie would let me in her room every night for the past two weeks, but fuck me, after that first night, I couldn’t stay away.
Every night for the past fourteen, I’ve knocked on her door, and she’s welcomed me with open arms. No bullshit, no excuses, no promises, just the two of us getting down and dirty.
Just our bodies giving and taking what each other needs.
It’s wild and hot, and, shit, it’s an addiction stronger than blow, and way the fuck better.
We hardly say two words to each other. We let our bodies do all the talking, and it’s fuckin’ amazing.
I don’t understand it, and I don’t think she does either, but .
. . every fuckin’ night she drains my dick dry until I stumble back to my room, spent and feeling like the fuckin’ king of the world.
After the opening, and when shit settles down, I might tell Ace about Sammie.
Not that there is too much to tell except hot sex, but I don’t like keeping it from him, especially after the last time.
I want him to know this is nothing like the shit with the DEA bitch, and I sure don’t want him finding out on his own first.
SAMMIE
Last night, we made it all the way to the bed. Amazing considering the first few nights, we never made it out of the living room. Up against the door, the back of the couch, and some nights, right on the damn floor. We actually started on the couch and ended up on the floor.
Yeah, being with Deuce is out-of-control crazy and the best sex ever, but the last few nights, I’ve sensed something different.
Usually, when I let him in, we are all over each other, but now he takes his time.
Kissing me, caressing my back, then finally leading me into my bedroom, and even then, his tentative moves have surprised me.
The sex is amazing as always, but afterwards, even though I sense some kind of shift, I stay silent.
So silent, we fall asleep in each other’s arms.
The morning, sun seeps through the shade, and I startle, surprised to see Deuce still next to me.
He pulls me closer, his eyes still closed.
I stare at the sculpted planes of his relaxed face.
He looks younger somehow. Letting his guard down, and living in the moment, same as when we have sex.
So different than his usual gruff don’t fuck with me attitude.
He shifts on the mattress, then twirls one of my curls around his finger. “Love your hair.”
Reality and my thoughts from last night filter in, and I gaze up at him, almost waiting for the other shoe to drop.
For him to tell me this has to end, especially now that the bar would be open, or he doesn’t want the other Kings to know, or he isn’t interested anymore.
I’d heard all those excuses from men in some shape or form, and they always land the same way.
Cold, unfeeling and demeaning.
I push up on my elbows and turn toward him. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”
“What?” he says the word like I jogged him out of his thoughts.
“I get it.” I motion between us. “This has been great, but it’s over. You have responsibilities with The End and the Royal Flush, and you have to put them first.”
Tonight is the opening of The End, and with that would come huge responsibilities and commitment, not leaving room for anything else.
He screws up his face. “What the fuck would running those places have to do with us?”
“I just thought that—”
“Well, you thought fuckin’ wrong.” He jackknifes into a sitting position. “I’m trying to figure out . . . I mean I’m trying to—”
“Let me down easy? Believe me, I’m tough, you can just say it and be done with it.”
According to the Kings, they’re expecting a huge turnout tonight, and I’m excited for them, but I also know where that leaves me and Deuce. Nowhere.
“Will you please stop interrupting me? You have gotta be the most infuriating woman.”
“I’m just trying to make all this easier for you.”
“All what? You don’t have a fuckin’ clue what’s goin’ through my brain right now.”
“Yes, I do. You’re going to say it’s been great and the sex was off the charts, but it has to end ‘cause the club comes first, and women can’t interfere or get in the way of that commitment. I’ve heard it all before.”
I certainly don’t want to interfere with their success since it would be my success too. And if giving up Deuce facilitates this, then so be it.
“And where have you heard it? From that deadbeat pussy Bullet?”
When I don’t answer, he barks out a laugh.
“I’m just saying that—”
“Will you please shut the fuck up, woman, and let me talk?”
I mash my lips together and glare at him. “Just don’t spit out bullshit that isn’t true and will never be true. And please, for the love of Harley, don’t give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t spit out bullshit even when I should.”
That’s true. He’s brutally honest, but I’m not about to admit it to him.
He straightens his spine and drags in a deep breath. “I don’t know what we got here . . . but I don’t want it to be about just fuckin’.”
Again, brutally honest.
“I also don’t have any future plan. I just know I want and need to be with you.”
“Okay.”
“That’s all I get? Okay?”
“You have to remember I’ve been screwed over a lot by men.”
“I get it. I’ve had the same track record with women. Like the DEA agent who shot my life to hell.”
“Right, and maybe ‘cause we’re both damaged, this won’t work.” I lower my eyes. “I can’t be hurt that way again. I don’t think I’d survive it.”
Deuce gathers me in his arms. “Let’s get through the opening tonight, then tomorrow we figure all this shit out.”
I don’t answer him because I already know that, after the opening, I will just become another statistic in this biker’s world.
DEUCE
If I hadn’t had that second cup of coffee. If Sammie hadn’t looked so fuckin’ sexy that I had to stick my cock in her again. If my incredible lousy luck didn’t always stick me up the ass, I wouldn’t have left Sammie’s apartment at the exact time Ace entered the upstairs hallway.
“Hey?” I close her door behind me. Maybe Ace wouldn’t realize this was Sammie’s room. Of course, being barefoot with my jeans hanging off my hips, and a fucked-out look on my face probably gave it away. “What are you doin’ up so early?”
“You said last night you wanted to do a walk-through of the club to make sure everything’s alright for tonight.”
“Right, I’ll be down in a minute.” I turn, and the bastard follows me into my apartment.
We stare at each other for a few seconds, then he says, “Are we just gonna ignore the big fuckin’ elephant in the room, or are we gonna try to kill it?”
“I don’t know what the hell you're talking about,” I say with plenty of attitude.
“Okay, I’ll just spit it out. What the fuck you doin’ coming out of Sammie’s room at eight in the morning?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Ohhh, no, fucker, you don’t get to play that card. Not after losing five years, not after losing the Kings and everything we worked for ‘cause you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“It’s not like that.”
“I think it’s exactly like that, only worse ‘cause I think you really care about this bitch.”
I close the distance between us. “Don’t call her that.”
“See?” Ace points to me. “That right there. You’re defending her.”
I turn and head for the kitchen. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Like last night, you turning down those chicks at the Royal Flush.”
“I told you they were fuckin’ junkies.”
“Wouldn’t have stopped you in the old days.”
“Well, like you pointed out, this ain’t the old days, so maybe everything is different. Maybe I’m different.” I busy myself filling the Mr. Coffee with water.
“It all makes sense now. The other day when I came up here and you didn’t hear me knocking, you came to the door looking like you were fuckin’ your brains out, ‘cause you were.”
I could’ve denied Ace’s words, spit out a bunch of lies, but I didn’t.
“Un-fuckin-believable.” Ace shakes his head. “Just like the last time.”
“You’re wrong.” I measure off the coffee and snap the lid down.
“Did it ever occur to you that she’s playin’ you just like the DEA bitch?”
I shake my head. “She’s not.”
“And you know this how?”
“You trust my word?”
“I used to.”
I spin away from the counter. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You and me,” Ace motions between us, “we came up together, fought together, always had each other’s backs, but now . . .”
“You said yourself if it wasn’t for me, the bar never would’ve come together, so what’s changed?”
“I’m just sayin’. What do you really know about her except she was with the Dogs way before you came into the picture?
” He motions to my gun lying on the coffee table.
“You’re getting sloppy, not thinking about security.
Fuckin’ Viper could’ve broken in and shot you with your own gun while you’re balls-deep in snatch you got no reason be with. ”
“Viper’s blackmailing her.”
“That’s what she told you?”
“I caught him roughing her up the first day I came here. If they were working together, he wouldn’t be pushing her around.”
“Unless she wasn’t doin’ what he wanted her to do. You told me about the money her old man apparently hid, yet we never found it. Even after tearing this whole fuckin’ place apart. Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”
“She said her old man told stories all the time. Half the shit he said wasn’t even true.”
Ace levels me with a look. “Maybe his daughter has the same problem.”
Ace’s words hang between us.
“I was talking to Fist the other day, and he said there was a black garbage bag wedged under the sink. He thought it was strange.”
“The kitchen was a mess, probably garbage.”
“Wedged behind a board under the sink?”
“Who the fuck knows?” I turn back to the coffee maker and fill up my mug.
“He also thought it was strange that, instead of Sammie taking it out to the dumpsters, she took it upstairs.”
“Okay, so maybe it was the money.” I sip at the steaming brew, but it doesn’t help. “I told all of you in the beginning that if we found something, it was to go to her.”
“I know, but if you’ve been spending every night ballin’ her, don’t you think she should’ve said something about it?”
Again, I have no response.
I point to the door. “Get the fuck out.”
“That’s right, ignore it, just like last time.”
I follow him to the door, then fling it open. “I told you this is different.”
Ace turns to me and stops. “Different how?”
“I don’t know, it just is.” Weak fuckin’ response, but it’s all I have ‘cause my biggest fear is exploding in my chest. Maybe Ace is right. Maybe Sammie is playing me for the Dogs.