2. Stella
STELLA
I know I must be dreaming but don’t want to wake up.
These moments running through my head were happier times for my family.
When Cullen, or as he’s known now in the motorcycle club world as Incubus, and I were able to just enjoy each other and build our relationship.
Those first couple of years were so damn sexy.
The man can fuck like no other. His body is a temple and his stamina is out of this world.
And after I was able to break through his walls, we managed to find our groove in and out of the bedroom.
I’ll never forget the look on his face when I told him we were expecting.
For a cold-blooded killer, the immense shock, happiness, and joy that was written on his face was unbelievable.
A look I will cherish to the day I die, just hoping that isn’t coming sooner than I’m ready for.
I’ve known this man since my early days in government service.
I was a young woman doing a man’s job and not blending well with the old boys club at all.
I met both Incubus and Cobalt during an operation that not one of my higher-ups would admit to.
Incubus and I hit it off immediately and the sexual tension was like a heat-seeking missile.
We thought that a friends with benefits relationship would work just fine considering our positions, but leave it to me to fall way too fast and hard for the man who didn’t show many emotions.
Underneath all of his alpha masculinity was a very tender and severely abused heart.
When he came to me heartbroken and devastated needing help to get Cobalt back, I didn’t think twice about risking my career, or shit, even my life for his friend.
That sealed everything between us. After recovering Cobalt and getting him medical care, Incubus and I didn’t surface from that hotel room for days.
Seriously, we never even got out of bed except to open the door for room service.
And damn, can that man fuck. I mean hard and fast or slow and intense.
He could read me like a book and then he would handle my body like a string instrument, finding all the areas that had my girlie parts tingling and wet as could be.
That memory puts a small smile on my face before the present pushes through and the pain reminds me that, at this moment, I have nothing to be grinning about.
In fact, I have no idea if I’ll get another chance to even see him or our little girl ever again.
What in the hell did I think I was doing when I decided going after the fucking Mob was a good idea?
Yeah, the Kings of Anarchy clubs have always had some kind of deal or two with them per chapter or, as I’ve been told, a working relationship.
Well, I ignored the relationship until, out of nowhere, I heard through the grapevine that Gino was targeting the Indiana chapter, that got me on the first plane to Indiana.
After a couple of hours’ drive from Indianapolis to Tranquility, I used old contacts to try to get an idea of what the Mob planned to do.
With what little information I could uncover, it didn’t do anyone any good.
Unfortunately, I was too late because they’d already started a war at the Kings clubhouse, and people were hurt and even killed.
Watching out for Incubus’s brothers and clubhouse left me open for what happened next.
Never saw it coming, and now I’m tied to a chair in a dark, clammy, and musty room, sheets over the windows, and beat to literal shit.
I know my ribs have to be broken and my face is swollen so bad I can’t see completely.
Blood has dried on my face and body, so when two of the goons came in to take photos, it dawned on me what the jagoff Gino was planning.
He was planning to use me to get Incubus.
For as long as I’ve been involved with the Mob, I’ve known Gino had an ultimate goal.
He’s not even kept it quiet that he wanted the enforcer to switch teams and come work for him.
Yeah, I know what Incubus does for his club and I totally get it, and it doesn’t bother me too much.
We’ve spoken about it, and for someone who was born literally with a golden spoon in his mouth—and for all the bullshit his family, well mainly his father, put him through—I’m surprised Incubus isn’t a worse person or even a psychopath.
Well, I think I should rephrase that, he’s not a serial killer.
He has the means, being he went and just about finished medical school, then fought in too many battles to count, and even ended up as a prisoner of war.
Thank God when he was a POW he had some of his brothers there, including Cobalt.
I’ve alway been truly surprised that any of the men in the Indiana chapter of the Kings of Anarchy are able to function on a daily basis.
It’s a goddamn miracle, to say the least. I’ve read all of their files and one is worse than the next.
What they all endured would have killed a normal man.
Dying of thirst, I try to wet my lips but got absolutely no spit left in my mouth.
Not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hang on.
They have consistently beat on me every couple of hours, concentrating on the same areas on a rotating basis.
Besides a few broken ribs, both eyes are swollen shut, and think I might be concussed.
The bottom of my feet are trashed as they beat them with a metal spoon.
Probably couldn’t even walk if I wasn’t tied to this fucking chair, which I’m sure was their plan all along.
Just as I go to try and catch a few zzz’s, I hear the lock disengaging and three goons followed by Gino walk into the room.
Seeing the utter look of shock on the Mob boss’s face tells me his men might have taken it a bit too far.
That is apparent when he turns, grabs a gun from his waist, and immediately caps the three men in front of him.
I can’t help the gasp that comes from my dry-as-shit lips, as Gino turns, opens the door, and yells down the hall to someone.
I can hear shoes hitting the floor as at least four or five men enter the room, stopping immediately when they see the three bodies with holes in the back or side of their heads. All eyes shoot to Gino, whose face is ruby red.
“Motherfuckers, who authorized that be done to her? For Christ’s sake, do you know who her ol’ man is in that crazy-as-fuck motorcycle club?
Goddamn, that maniac Incubus is gonna put us all six feet under as soon as he can when he sees the damage done to her.
She didn’t look like this when we sent those photos over, did she?
Well fuck, get rid of these bodies and someone untie Stella, then carry her gently to the spare room so she can get cleaned up and be seen by Doc Jones.
Jesus Christ, if I want anything done right, got to do it myself.
Get her some water, she’s dehydrated and have cook prepare her some soup.
Now, move your asses before y’all end up with these three losers.
Stella, Tesoro, ya know this wasn’t what I wanted.
Come on, let’s get ya taken care of. Personally, I don’t want your man raining down retribution for all of this unnecessary hurt that was done to you.
Ya know, Tesoro, I apologize as you’re just the pawn in all of this.
If Incubus wasn’t such a stubborn mule, you would have never been put in the middle of this ridiculous quarrel between us.
He should know I always get what I want and, unfortunately, I not only want him but need his special skills to help us win our war.
Remember me always telling you, time and time again, I would take better care of you than that degenerate. Maybe now you’ll listen to me, Tesoro.”
Barely able to see through my swollen eyes, my brain filters through my many years of Italian with my nonna and if I’m correct Tesoro literally means “treasure.” Well, this fucker has a helluva way to show someone, who he supposedly cares for, how much they mean to him.
It takes a lot but I swallow down my smart-ass reply and let out a deep groan of pain when my hands and feet are cut loose.
The last thing I remember is one of Gino’s goons lifting me gently and walking out of the room.
Everything slowly fades to black, which for once I totally appreciate.
What the fuck is wrong with my eyes, they won’t open?
They feel like they’re glued together, or shit, maybe it’s something worse.
I can feel something cool on them and that’s when it hits me that I received a really bad beatdown by Gino’s men.
Feeling someone in the room, I immediately try to regulate my breathing, but it’s too late. Fuck me.
“Stella, I know you’re waking up. I’m Doc Jones and I’ve been taking care of you for the last thirty-six hours or so.
No, don’t get agitated. I had to stitch up some of your deep wounds and your feet are wrapped with an arnica cream, which should give you some pain relief while helping with the inflammation and bruising.
I’m gonna remove the ice compresses I’ve had on and off on your eyes.
Hopefully, it’s taken some of the swelling down.
Close your eyes for a second or two, Stella, so you can adjust. Not gonna be normal but should be better than when I first got here.
One of your eyes has blood vessels that burst, so the whites are a bit pinkish-red, but that will dissipate after a week or so. ”