LOKI

Four Weeks Later

It’s official, she’s pregnant.

The dumbass, shit-eating grin won’t leave my face as I walk into the clubhouse. Tryke called me about twenty minutes ago, said it was important, so I dropped Lily and Piper at home. She’s still recovering but on the mend. Her face has finally returned to normal with only some slight yellowing in the cheekbone area, but she’s covering it with make-up, which is good, because every time I see it, I fill with rage. It makes me want to dig up the asshole that did it and kill him again, only I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of bullets.

I knock on Tryke’s office door. “Come in,” he says from the other side.

Big Daddy, Whistler, Sticks and Pixie stuck around for about a week after Tryke was officially sworn in. They wanted to make sure he was settling in okay, that, and I think they wanted to see how Kiwi came out of all the shit that happened to her. She’s a strong woman. There’s no doubt about that, but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sometimes I can’t help wondering if it’s an act for me.

Then she does something completely random and it makes me think otherwise.

“What’s goin’ down?” I ask Tryke as I step into his office.

He nods in the direction of the door. “Close it.”

I look Tryke over. He cut back some of the length he’d left when he originally cut his hair, it’s still long and chocolate brown, but I can see his lighter roots coming from his scalp.

After Kiwi got out of the hospital, Tryke spent a lot of time with her. At first I thought it had to do with Emily, but it was never about the black-haired beauty who works for Kiwi. It was about her.

I’d catch them up late at night talking. Mostly about life after we faked his death. She was letting him back in and it made me happy to see them repairing their relationship. She and I have had several heart to hearts and I finally learned where she got all her mad, crazy skills from. Sticks wasn’t going to leave her defenseless. So, he taught her how to fight, how to shoot. He had no idea she’d become such an excellent shot.

“I’m not sure whether we have a problem or if we have answers we’ve been waiting for,” he says cryptically.

“Meaning?” I ask.

“Rack.”

“What about him?”

He moves the brown paper off his desk and sitting under it, laid out nice, is Rack’s missing cut. “Where in the hell did that come from?” I snap.

He hands me a piece of paper and I look at it front and back before reading it.

We can’t apologize enough for what happened that night. And we understand that this isn’t going to make what happened right, but we feel it’s important to return this to you.

You see, Rack was not our target that night. He was simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

We’ve honored his memory by hanging his cut in our house, waiting for the day it could be returned to you.

That day has come.

You see, our target that night was Rooster.

He fucked us over with some of our local contacts. Making business impossible and costing our house lots of money. It was time he paid the ultimate price. It was also time, as we understood things, to have a new Pres is Roswell. We figured we could handle both for you.

But we failed.

So, as a gesture of good faith, we return to you the cut of your fallen. He went down a hero and will forever remain that way in our eyes.

All we ask in return is that you send us Rooster and Gunnar’s so that we may add them to our wall of disgrace.

Hex

Critical Chaos President

“Well fuck,” I snap.

“That’s what I said too,” Tryke adds. “We haven’t destroyed their cuts. I think the least we can do is send them on.”

“I want their patches,” I tell him.

“For what?”

“The Wall of Dishonor.”

“You know I hate that thing,” Tryke says.

“Maybe, but it’s a reminder to all of us that trust is earned, never given. That honor and brotherhood stands above all else,” I remind him.

“Truth,” he says, his green eyes meeting mine. “SD it. Strip the bars and send them back to CC.”

“What about business with them?”

Tryke shrugs. “We severed ties when I took over. I think it might be better that way. We’re doing fine without them.”

I nod in agreement. “At least we have our answer,” I tell him.

“We do,” he says somberly. “We’ll burn it this weekend.”

Neither one of us says anything for a minute. Tryke pulls himself back together.

“How’s my sister?” he asks.

I smile wide, much like it was when I walked in the door. “Pregnant,” I tell him.

He narrows his eyes at me. “You waste no time, do you?”

“Nope, not a second.”

“How she feel about this?”

“She’s apprehensive, and I don’t blame her,” I tell him honestly.

“Me either.” He rounds the desk and comes to stand in front of me, toe to toe. “So help me God, Logan, you fuck this up and I will take you out. You get me?”

I smile. “I get you, brother. But she’s got my ink, she’s wearing my colors, and my ring. I assure you, I’m going nowhere.”

Tryke throws his arms around me in the biggest hug the man has ever given me. “Take good care of her,” he whispers.

“Always,” I tell him.

He lets me go. “Uncle? Again?” He raises an eyebrow.

I shrug. “We both get a little redemption this time around,” I tell him.

“How so?”

“We both get to watch this one grow up.” I smile.

“Truth,” he says before returning behind his desk.

We talk shop for an hour before I leave and head to Kiwi’s. I have something for her that Tryke gave me. Though it was an argument, I agreed to give it to her for him.

Piper comes running out when I pull up. “Daddy,” she squeals.

No matter how many times she says it, it makes my heart melt. “Hi, Pipes. Where’s momma?” I ask.

“She’s laying down. She’s not feeling good.”

I pick Piper up and bolt into the house, charging down the hall and into the bedroom. Kiwi is on the bed, curled on her left side, away from me. “Kiwi,” I say and she rolls toward me. She smiles. “You alright?” I ask her.

“I’m fine, just tired. Why?”

“Piper said you weren’t feeling good.”

“Mommy threw up,” Piper chimes in.

“I’m fine, baby, just like I told you before,” Kiwi says and she puts her arms out and Piper squirms out of my hold before curling up next to her. “Mommy’s gonna be doing that a lot for a while.”

“Why, are you sick?”

Kiwi’s eyes meet mine and I shrug. “No, baby, I’m not sick. I’m pregnant,” she tells Piper.

“What’s that?” Piper asks. Her innocence warms my heart.

“It means that in a few months, you’re going to have a baby brother or a baby sister.”

She squeals, “I want a baby sister!” Then she hugs Kiwi who flinches a little.

“Easy, baby, remember mommy’s still sore,” I remind Piper.

She pulls away from Kiwi. “I’m sorry, mommy, I’m just so excited.”

“Me too, baby,” Kiwi says to Piper but she’s looking at me.

“Pipes, why don’t you go find Emily?” I suggest.

“Okay. Can I tell Emily?” she asks.

“Sure, baby,” Kiwi says and Piper gets off the bed.

“Emily,” she hollers as she runs out of the room, and I close the door behind her.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask as I kick off my boots, and climb onto the bed.

“Perfect,” she says as she rolls over toward me. She reaches up with her face and presses her lips to mine.

“Not fair,” I growl. “My hand is getting boring.”

She chuckles softly, then she hitches her leg over mine as she pulls herself on top of me. She grinds her hips against my cock and it grows harder and starts throbbing.

“Kiwi,” I growl.

She leans down, pressing her lips to mine again and her hands go to my sides and she pulls them up to cup her breasts.

“Lily, please,” I beg. “I can’t take this anymore, so please…”

Her eyes find mine. “I’m off restrictions, cleared, free to fuck your brains out,” she growls and claims my lips again. This time, I cup her breasts, careful of her right one.

Before she left the hospital, the plastic surgeon had his way with her scar and now there are two, still healing, pink semi-circles. Eventually she wants to get them tattooed over, but for now, they’re healing nicely. I roll her nipples and she hisses.

I stop. “I’m don’t want to hurt you,” I tell her.

She smiles. “You’re not. You just knocked me up. My tits are sore.”

“Oh,” I breathe. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” I reach for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and she lifts her arms and I toss it to the floor. Hooking my thumbs in her bra, I pull it down, exposing both of her beautiful nipples. Before I do anything, I kiss her scar. She shudders above me and I suck her right nipple into my mouth, massaging it gently with my tongue. She moans above me. Having her soft, flesh in my mouth again is heaven and my cock pulses between us. She grinds her hips against mine and I groan. Releasing her nipple with a pop, I move to the other one and repeat the process. Giving her a soft tongue massage against the sensitive buds has her hips moving against mine.

After a few seconds, I release her left nipple with a pop and reach around her back, sliding my hands along her warm flesh. “I can’t wait ‘til you say, ‘I do’.”

She laughs softly, “I’m pretty sure there’s not much left. Between the patch, the ink, the engagement ring and the child inside me, I’m spoken for.”

“That’s not the same,” I grumble as I unhook her bra. She shifts, sliding her arms through and putting it on the floor with her shirt. I wrap my arms around her softly and roll her onto her back. “Not even close to the same thing, baby.”

She smiles. Her hands go to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up. I sit up, letting her pull it off and toss it on the floor with everything else. She leans up and kisses her lily on my chest then her fingers trace the chain of my dad’s dog tags.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I grunt.

“Caveman,” she laughs.

“Your caveman,” I remind her.

“All mine.” She lifts her lips to mine and I moan into her mouth as I press my denim-clad cock into her shorts covered slit.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I grumble and pull back, reaching for the waist of her jean shorts, tracing my fingers over her pelvic bone as I do. “Is this safe?” I ask her.

“Perfectly,” she says. “Now, clothes, off,” she commands.

I glare at her with mock irritation and she laughs again. This time harder and she winces. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”

“Shut up, caveman, and finish it.” She says the two words that always turn the animal on inside me and I unbutton her shorts, sliding them and her panties off in a rush before lying between her legs. I slide a fat tongue through her sex.

My eyes roll up in my head as her sweet nectar hits my taste buds. My cock throbs with a desperate need to be buried inside her. Her hand slides into my hair, holding me there, and I suck her clit into my mouth as she cries out softly.

“God, I missed you,” she breathes and her hips twitch with each of the little nibbles I’m giving her clit. I slip a finger inside her sex and it clamps down on my digit as I flick her clit with my tongue.

Desperate to make her come so I can stick my dick in her, I start alternating between sucking, flicking and nibbling until I feel her body go rigid. Her hand in my hair tightens, almost to the point of pain, and she cries out my name as she shatters beneath me.

I extract my finger and slow my pace on her clit as she grinds out her orgasm on my tongue. When she jerks and settles, I rear up, unbuttoning my fly and sliding my jeans and boxers down to free my cock. I move closer to her and she grabs my cock and strokes it a couple times. Pre-cum forms at the tip and she wipes it up with her thumb before using it to move her hand more freely. The sensation sends my legs trembling and I take my cock back from her, stroking it twice before lining up with her cunt and pushing inside. I take it easy, not wanting to hurt her.

She wraps her legs around me and pulls me into her hips. “I won’t break,” she breathes. “Please, I need to feel you.”

With that, I push myself inside her all the way. Sliding home. Warmth, love, happiness, desire, and pure lust race through my veins as she moans below me.

I start to grind in and out of her, her body trembling beneath me, our eyes locked on one another. “I love you,” she breathes.

“I love you,” I groan as I press my lips against hers, my cock sliding slowly in and out of the only place I ever want to be, ever again.

She’s my home, my family, my life. Everything I’ve ever wanted wrapped in one beautiful, tattooed, colored hair, sexiness amplified package.

She stole my heart the day she was born.

She cradled my heart close to her until she gave it back to me so I could love her, forever and unconditionally until the day I die.

“Finish it,” she breathes. And finish it, I do.