Chapter 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Sawyer

The guys give me shit when I get back, but it’s only because Brew and Haze aren’t here to smack them in the teeth.

Logan barely ever visits the clubhouse. Cash has been trying to get Logan to join for years, and I don’t think it’s the fact he doesn’t want to or doesn’t like the club, he’s just set in his ways being the eldest. He kinda likes things the way he likes them, and I get that, but the club would be good for him.

All he does is work. When he’s not at the Whiskey Shack, he’s helping around the security business.

While he claims that doesn’t leave much time for anything else, I don’t think he’s a joiner.

I love the club because of what they represent: family.

I’ve never had much of one since I was thirteen when I left, granted, that wasn’t all my doing, but I missed out on all that time with my dad. He wasn’t a bad man, and he and my mom got along after they split, but I always felt like an obligation, rather than any kind of blessing.

The club doesn’t care about shit like that. They don’t give a fuck as long as you pull your weight, be loyal to the club, and above all else, be present. We all help each other out — just like the Nomad Brothers did when I first came to town. Without them, I don’t know where I’d be.

Probably in a ditch somewhere. They helped me get back on my feet, and in a lot of ways, they saved my life.

I don’t see Nova for the rest of the night. I guess she took off early. I leave shortly after ten, heading back to my place as I think about tonight. Nova looked relieved when I told her about Bobby. Yeah, there’s a problem to deal with, but that won’t be for six months.

We will have plenty of time to decide how we’re going to dismantle him. I didn’t tell Nova, but he’d also been in and out of jail for domestic abuse and assault. He just can’t seem to keep his hands off women. I can’t wait to put my hands on him, and not in a good way.

I stay up way too late researching Bobby, making sure there’s nothing I missed, or if he’s working with anyone who may have been an accomplice. All bases must be covered because when that fucker is released, he’s not gonna breathe air one more day on the outside.

I open one of the files I’ve been working on in my spare time named: The Directors.

When Willow was snatched recently by a crazy stalker working for — we thought — the cartel, she mentioned this group of people that were coming to collect her from her kidnappers.

A lot of people weren’t happy with the MC, or the NOPD, for taking down a massive trafficking organization a while back.

But it’s like whack-a-mole with these assholes.

You take one down, then another one pops up.

It’s become a hobby of mine to locate these organizations and try to bring them down.

Brew has never forgiven himself for not protecting his first girlfriend after traffickers murdered her.

At the time they’d broken up and she went traveling, unfortunately the unthinkable happened and Brew’s kinda made it his mission in life to stop these people, as am I.

I know I’m an anomaly; usually it’s women and minors that are trafficked, but I was a teenager when it happened to me.

I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, and that’s saying something.

Some part of me knows the people I was working for groomed me and it all started from running errands.

It made me feel important at first. Then upgrading to the middleman for drug deals, collecting payments, and drops offs.

I was thirteen years old. Yeah, I knew right from wrong, but I was rebellious.

I didn’t like authority, and I thought those people were just looking out for me.

It turned out they were nothing short of demons in disguise.

Ever since I got out, I’ve made it my mission in life to protect innocent people, children in particular, from the horrors.

The thing that gets me is how people just bury their heads in the sand when it is happening all over the globe.

It’s a worldwide pandemic, yet you hardly ever see anything about it on the news.

I swallow hard at some things I’ve seen on the dark web. Not that I seek it out, but my job sometimes requires me to hack into mainframes and people’s computers. Let me tell you, there are some fucked up people out there.

I glance down as a text pops through.

Nova

Did you get home OK?

I texted her earlier, but she hadn’t replied.

Me

Yeah, you?

Nova

Yep. Tucked up in bed

I try not to imagine her tucked up in bed and my dick stirs at the memory of her in my Guns n’ Roses t-shirt. Tonight she brought up that thing again: We both have needs.

I completely changed the subject because I didn’t know what to say. I’m a pussy, and I’m not proud of it. I need to man up.

Something is wrong with me, I know that.

Being broken isn’t something I can just fix with therapy or with the click of my fingers.

I wish it were that simple. I think I’ll always be damaged goods no matter what, but I also don’t want that to be my story.

I don’t want a pity party or anyone to feel sorry for me.

It was a long time ago, and I’ve partly shifted to the path of recovery.

I don’t want to be a victim for the rest of my life, but forgetting isn’t that easy.

I’ll never forget. I’ll also never forgive those that did that to me, and I’ve been hunting them down ever since with the help of the Nomad Brothers.

The trouble with organizations is they move around too much.

I’m lucky that the brothers’ beliefs align with mine, as do the MC, and whenever we get a whiff of trafficking in Louisiana, we’re the first to take matters into our own hands.

Me

Such a good girl

I don’t even mean that sexually, but after I send it, I immediately see the implication.

Nova

Did you have too much to drink tonight? When am I ever a good girl?

Me

You are for me

Nova

You’re such a good flirt

Me

I wasn’t even meaning to flirt. You’re a good person, Nova. I want you to know that

Jesus, why am I getting heavy all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the inner monologue, and the fact her abuser is behind bars. It buys us time, but it also makes Nova feel safe. Not that she has anything to worry about.

Nova

What’s got you all up in a twist?

Me

Nothing. Can’t I tell my girl something nice without suspicion?

Nova

Sure, but you can dial up the flirt, bestie, I don’t mind

Me

It was cute that you got mad

Nova

You didn’t just say that

Me

Why not? You’re sweet when you wanna draw blood

Nova

I would’ve done it for you

Me

Oh, of that I have no doubt. I think Tia is gonna be steering clear of you for a while

Nova

Good. She shouldn’t man-handle people without permission

Me

You have permission

There I go again. Jesus fuck, what is wrong with me?

The gray bubble appears, then disappears, then appears again. She takes a good two minutes before another reply pops up.

Nova

Promises, promises

Me

You know you do. It’s like I have no boundaries with you

Nova

Don’t tease a girl

Me

I’m not teasing

Nova

Do you really think people like us can be happy?

I stare at her message, my heart constricting in my chest at her words. I’ve thought about it many times myself, and I always come up with the same answer: Yes. What gives others the right to dictate our future? We’re not broken all the way through, just bent a little.

Me

Of course I do. If we live a sad life, doesn’t it mean our abusers have won?

Nova

I worry he’ll come for me

I curl my hand around the phone. She’s never admitted anything like that to me.

Yes, she said he’d put his hands on her, beat her, but nothing more.

I know he did much worse, but she hasn’t brought herself to say the words, and that’s okay.

I’m here for her no matter what. The other night, when she felt scared, I saw her vulnerability for the first time.

Everyone knows her to be this tough chick with a smart mouth, but with me she’s not like that.

Yeah, she has a wise ass comeback for everything, but that’s just surface stuff, when you get behind all of that, the real Nova is like a diamond in the rough.

Me

I won’t let that happen. I will never let him hurt you

Nova

I believe you, but it makes me feel weak

Me

What does?

Nova

That I can’t defend myself

Me

You shouldn’t have to, no woman should, but this is the world we live in. It isn’t your fault. It was never your fault. As long as I’m breathing, you won’t ever have to worry about that piece of shit

Nova

I believe you, but I still have nightmares

So do I, except when I’m with her. When I’m asleep in Nova’s arms, I sleep like a baby. Nothing can get me or penetrate that force field. We’re untouchable.

Me

I do too. Unless I’m with you. I had the best night’s sleep on Saturday, even after you wrenched me out of bed. You’re my good luck charm

Nova

You’re a good cuddler

Me

Are you just saying that? Apparently, I can’t keep my hands to myself

Nova

You’re only human

I smirk at her words. Damn straight I am. She reminds me I’m a flesh and blood male, and that sex isn’t wrong or dirty. Not if it’s with her in mind. Holy fuck. Is that a new trigger unlocked?

I think about it for a second. I still associate sex with feeling bad, even after all my therapy sessions, which makes sense when you consider the violations.

My therapist once said I’d find someone I felt comfortable with and when I did, that my thoughts and feelings on the subject would change.

I would change. I’d use that relationship as positive reinforcement that sex doesn’t have to hurt, be dirty, or shameful.

I wouldn’t be forced to do things I don’t want to do.

It would be pleasant and enjoyable. I’d be able to relax and really feel the experience for what it is: pleasurable.

I’ve never felt pleasure before unless it’s me jerking off, and even then it takes a bit to even get me there.

Not when it’s about her. No, never when Nova occupies my thoughts.

I’m hard instantly and in my fantasy I want to try new things.

Nova

You still there?

Me

Sorry, I’m working in between

I’m using that as an excuse because I let my mind wander. Now I’m thinking about her in my bed. Fuck.

Nova

I’d better not keep you then

Me

It’s alright. You need your beauty sleep

Nova

You’re right, I’m falling asleep

Nova

Goodnight, Sawyer

Me

Goodnight, Princess, sleep tight

Nova

xo

I stare at the screen for a long time, not seeing anything. You’re a good cuddler. Man, I didn’t mean to grope her, but she’s laughing about it. It’s not my fault she’s gorgeous and has curves in all the right places.

I groan as I adjust my dick through my sweatpants.

It’s getting uncomfortable in there. When that doesn’t help, I slide my hand into my pants and stroke myself.

I imagine Nova in my t-shirt, her bare ass rubbing up against me like it did the other morning, getting my dick hard.

My hand rubbing over her hard nipple… In my dreams I’d slide my hand under the shirt, feeling her skin against mine.

“Oh,” I sigh, my dick jumping at the idea of seeing her tits. I’d play with those babies for hours. I bet I could even make her come just by touching them. I shut my laptop screen and head to bed.

I need to get off, and I’m not gonna do it sitting here in this rigid chair.

I pull back the comforter and slide into bed, leaning over to inhale the pillow she used.

Granted, it smells more like me because she used my stuff to wash, but also like her, too.

Our scents combined. I reach under my pillow and bring the t-shirt to my nose and inhale.

That smells like her. That sugary cinnamon roll I love so much.

Damn, I’d eat her like a damn cinnamon roll, too.

After pushing my sweats off, I pull my t-shirt over my head.

I sprawl on my back, my dick in my hand as I stroke myself back and forth.

I imagine what it would be like: Nova on top of me, her hands on my chest, telling me how good it felt.

How I was making her feel. I’d sit up, bringing one perky tit to my mouth and suck her nipple until she was writhing on top of me.

Inserting a finger, she’d ride my hand until she was wet enough to take another, maybe three.

Her tight, slick pussy so goddamn perfect, I close my eyes at the intensity.

Then the moment she’d grip me at the base has me almost jerking as she’d slowly slide down onto my cock.

I’d fill that pussy so good, and we’d both moan in pleasure.

“Ride me,” I groan. “Baby, ride my cock.” And she would.

We’d make love like two people who love and respect one another.

Maybe we’d even get a little crazy, because I can’t keep myself from shooting my load all over myself in record time, lifting my hips as I get my fill. Her name, a whisper on my lips.

My dirty little secret.

My girl.

My good luck charm.

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