Mama Bear
Glancing around the room, Patricia Donovan Caldwell took in each trophy. They were various shapes and sizes. Various stages and colors, but all works of art.
She smiled at her creations, the newest additions. Expressions of anger, jealousy, love and hate. She touched one of the prizes, her fingertips running over the smoothness, her breath catching at the fine texture.
Images formed in her head, and she chose her next subject, though none would ever top the recent two. She outdid herself.
The door opened. She didn’t bother turning. The scent of his expensive cologne revealed his identity.
“Sharper.”
“Pattie.”
She backed away from the shelves that had been turned into an art display and tipped her head back. She pointed. “What do you think?”
Sharper heaved in a breath. “Unnecessary complications, but it’s done.”
“He hurt my daughter.”
“You already tried to poison him. You pulled a knife on Joe and Rack.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “It should’ve been a gun for Rack.” She’d never hurt Joe.
“Ahhh, I see.”
Scowling, she spun around and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t fuck with Joe, motherfucker,” she said, low.
Sharper stiffened. “You’re getting beside yourself. Especially since you’ve so thoroughly pissed off Cee Cee.” He closed the distance between them and grabbed her throat. “I don’t like mouthy cunts.”
“Considering you’re such a mouthy cunt, I can understand why,” she spat, despite the pressure he applied.
He shoved her away. “I don’t know why I bother with you.”
She smirked at him. “Because my pussy can’t compare to anyone’s. Even Char’s.”
“Only Logan’s cock outranks your pussy, pet,” he said in agreeable tones.
At her glare, he shrugged.
“You’re a disgusting fuckhead.”
Laughter rumbled from him, but immediately died at the sound of jingling spurs.
Her breath catching, Patricia straightened.
A moment later, her husband sauntered in.
Ten years her senior at fifty-one, he was still incredibly handsome, though the wear-and-tear of his lifestyle was catching up to him.
Small lines dented his face and threads of silver shot through his thinning black hair.
His mouth had an even crueler twist. Tattoos decorated his arms, neck, long fingers, and massive hands.
Hands he’d used to wield a belt and damage her girl a few months ago.
Zoann was floundering. She thought Christopher didn’t care when Patricia knew the truth.
She knew Joe lied to protect her son. She knew Daddy was sent to Colombia and she knew why.
Over the years, she’d overlooked much of Logan’s attitude and forgiven even more.
Except his fucked up bet that wagered her children was something she couldn’t overlook.
It seemed as if she’d killed the wrong parent. Her mother had been on the way out anyway. But Logan? Her father? Daddy ?
He’d gambled Christopher’s life or Zoann’s virginity.
“How could you, Sebastian?”
Cee Cee didn’t pretend ignorance. He was a very shrewd man. “I wouldn’t have killed Christopher, Pattie.”
“You’re a liar. You wouldn’t have made that bet.”
He took his sweet time lighting a cigarette and dragging on it a couple of times before answering her. “I wanted to fuck Zoann.”
“Fuckhead,” she spat, livid. Not caring about his retaliation, she flew at him and kneed his cock, then sank her nails into his cheeks and clawed him.
“Ouch!” Cee Cee yelled, grabbing her wrists and flinging her back before backhanding her.
She jumped to her feet and swiped her arm across her bloody nose.
Her outrage and anger blocked any physical pain she should have felt from Cee Cee’s hit.
“How could you hurt her like that? Why, Sebastian? My baby. She’s suffering.
She doesn’t even have Christopher. Joe and I decided we had to protect him from the truth to keep him safe.
You should’ve just come to me. If it meant sparing Zoann, I would’ve gladly submitted.
Christopher loves Zoann, and it’s devastated him that she’s turned against him for no reason. ”
He stared at her, then glanced away. “I don’t regret fucking her, but I appreciate how fiercely you protect her and my boy.” He gave her a half smile. “You know why.” Clearing his throat, he glanced over her shoulder. “Reverend Motherfucker. So good to see you.”
“Cee Cee.”
Smirking, Cee Cee glanced at all the shelves lining the walls. “Interesting room. Only the finest trophy room for Sharper Banks. Secret at that. In the bowels of his office.”
“What good is money without secrets?” Sharper asked.
“Oh, indeed, fuckhead,” Cee Cee responded, amused.
“Only the finest everything for Sharper Banks,” Sharper replied. “The wallpaper is handmade Italian silk. The marble flooring is imported. The sconces are made from the purest crystal.”
“Isn’t it dangerous for you to set foot in here if that’s the case?” Patricia asked dryly.
Cee Cee laughed. “Only if it was silver. Motherfucker’s safe with crystal.”
“I’m not amused,” Sharper said. “I’m a holy man. Vampires and werewolves are the devil’s creation.”
“Then you shouldn’t have created them,” Patricia retorted.
“Fucking bitch,” Sharper snarled.
“Perhaps, but she’s right so back the fuck off,” Cee Cee warned.
“You’re on my turf, Cee Cee. I might not want you to leave alive.”
“Then I suppose you don’t want Osti to survive,” Cee Cee said calmly. “You don’t think I’d come here defenseless, do you, motherfucker? ”
Sharper gaped at Cee Cee. “Where is he?” he managed.
“When I walk out alive, he’ll return alive. You get him back exactly how the fuck I leave here.” He glowered at Patricia. He hadn’t forgotten how she’d flown to Richmond under the guise of missing him a month after he attacked Zoann.
His gaze never leaving hers, he walked closer. Only Big Joe had the same swagger, the same male beauty, as Cee Cee.
He grabbed her throat, his eyes burning with anger. “You left me on the verge of death, cunt. You fucking poisoned me.”
She didn’t flinch. He was blaming her because he was pussy crazed?
She wouldn’t accept responsibility. “You allowed me to visit.” His mistake, which he’d soon realize.
She’d met his current favorite slut, October, and vowed to see her suffer.
She’d also met Celia, his daughter, for the first time, and Celia’s many bastards. “You hurt my daughter.”
“Bitch, Logan hurt my son for years and you turned your fucking head.”
“My mistake. I should’ve poisoned Logan instead of smothered Elmira.”
Not much shocked her husband. It pleased her when his eyes flared in shock. As he studied her, he dragged on his cigarette, then turned his head and released the smoke. A smile curved his mouth, softening the cruelty. “You’re such a heartless cunt.”
She didn’t know if he admired or abhorred that side of her. “You cannot survive in a world of bikers and betrayal if you’re kind and forgiving.”
A lesson she learned at Cee Cee’s hand when her father sold her virginity.
They’d taken something from her, and she’d never regained it.
She hadn’t wanted that for her daughters, but especially Zoann, so beautiful and smart, filled with sass and charm.
While Fred was alive, he’d protected their girls and taken her Christopher under his wing.
It wasn’t until he left for a meeting and never returned that she realized what she’d lost—a kind man, who protected her and their children, who loved her in spite of her flaws.
As much as she loved Joe and…and…felt whatever for Cee Cee, she missed Fred. Emotions were complicated, but lust was easy. Satisfied until the next time her body demanded pleasure. Emotions tangled her up.
She’d lived with anger and resentment toward Cee Cee, and took it out on their son, behavior that shamed her.
After Fred’s disappearance, Christopher stepped up to the plate and became the man of the family, though he was only twelve at the time.
He protected her and his sisters. He stood up to Logan.
But her son had never been hers . Christopher had always belonged to the club. Her legacy, Cee Cee’s legacy, grew in their son. When Big Joe finally caved to Logan’s pressure to run the club and returned to Hortensia, Patricia’s dominant role in Christopher’s life was on borrowed time.
He was the club’s future. Not Johnnie. And Daddy knew it.
“When are we fucking?” Cee Cee demanded, always guided by his cock.
She’d dolled herself up extra special just to tempt him and then deny him.
“Never again,” she said coldly. Though she understood his game, his lack of reaction still disappointed her.
“You hurt my daughter. Whether you intended to go through with killing Christopher, he still ended up hurt. His birthday was three months ago and I let it pass without cooking for him. I’m too ashamed to look at him. ”
“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you aren’t,” Cee Cee growled. “I fucked the bitch. She tried to fight me. I forgave that and licked her pussy. That slut came. She got what she deserved.”
Patricia drew in a deep breath. If she attacked Cee Cee, she wouldn’t survive. Once he recovered from his attempted poisoning, he’d beaten her terribly.
But his crimes wouldn’t go unanswered. She smiled serenely. “How’s Celia and Missy?”
Missy was Celia’s eldest daughter. Sharper’s henchman, Osti, was her father. She’d gotten permission from Sharper for her retaliation.
“I’ve been on the fucking road, so I don’t know how either of those two cunts are.”
Would it even matter to Cee Cee? It was no secret how much he disliked Celia. It was only by her brother’s grace that she was under club protection. If Bash hadn’t insisted Cee Cee help her, she and her brats would’ve been dead a long time ago.
Patricia stepped out of the way and pointed to the middle shelf with the newest trophies.
He stared blankly, his gaze going from October’s head, with deep cuts in her cheeks and forehead, and her nose split open.
He stared at the other severed head with her mouth agape, her hair shaved, and her eyes carved out.
Recognition lit his green eyes and they widened. “Fuck! What the fuck did you do?”
“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you aren’t,” she parroted. “I couldn’t find your daughter, but October was your favorite whore and Missy your eldest granddaughter.”
“She was thirteen.”
“Zoann’s seventeen and you’ve ruined her life. Tell me what you would have done?”
He stared at Missy’s head again. Regret flickered across his face and he blew out a heavy breath.
So it did matter.
“Fine, Pattie. But I fucking warn you, the debt is settled. Don’t talk about it ever again. Whatever she’s going through, let her fucking suffer. ”
Sharper’s secret trophy room, in the bowels of his office, were filled with works of art. A collection of heads and eyes that Sharper collected from his kills.
“If I hear a peep, I swear I’ll fucking kill her and add her goddamn head next to my granddaughter’s.” Cee Cee gave her a final look and stormed away.