CHAPTER EIGHT
Dixie Rose
The view of the city below does nothing for me tonight. Echo is obviously otherwise occupied and agitated. I hate secrets; they come back and fuck up your world. We eat, pushing useless small talk back and forth, and now we’re nursing our drinks and allowing the silence to stretch between us.
“You want to talk about it now?” I ask. I’m not used to this sullen version of Echo. Even when we were dancing around one another, he was a direct and open.
“I’m not sure what to think right now, D’Rose. Dad brought some new guys in that give me the fucking willies. Scott and Brett, brothers with very blond hair and blue eyes. I have no proof yet, but they reek of the Aryan nation. Charm kept telling me I needed to decide whose side I was on. He said things were going to be changing. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
The words make me squirm. Any Mouth approved change is something I won’t be on board with. “What do you think he means?” I ask, gently nudging him to expand on the subject. Being an old lady you’re only allowed to know so much. But the burdens they carry can be heavy, and you want to help them as much as they’ll let you. They’re a proud breed.
“I’m not sure, and that worries me. Things are going to be changing around the club. Stone came right out and said it to me. If people aren’t on board with that, he’s going to show them the door. He told me to do what I could for Charm and see how into the racism shit he really is.”
The R word makes me flinch. One can’t understand what it’s like to be on the receiving end, until they’ve been in my shoes. People always say sticks and stones break bones and words can never hurt. But I think it’s the opposite. Bones can mend, yet words said enough times, bury themselves deep into your sub consciousness and become your truth. It takes long hours of work, honesty, pain, and rebuilding to escape that false reality. I curl my hand around my beer and bite the inside of my cheek. “Hmm.”
“You’re pissed,” Echo says.
I shake my head. “Nope. Just trying to listen objectively.”
“I can’t give up on him, D’Rose. If there’s a chance I can get him back on the right track before he crashes and burns with my father, I have to try. You understand, right? It’s not in any way a show of approval for the fucked up shit they say or do.”
“You want to save your brother, I get it,” I say, grinding my teeth. I’m not going to give him the go ahead to spend one-on-one time with rabid racists who want to see us parted.
“You hate this, don’t you? I knew you would.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“What do you expect? It’s an insult, Echo.”
“You want me to choose?” he snaps.
“I don’t want you to do shit, other than understand this puts me in an awkward ass situation. I understand you want to do what you can for your brother. But what if he doesn’t want to be helped or saved? Hmm? Then what?” I slam down my beer and lean forward, gripping the table. “How far are you going to let this go? Where do you stop? What are you doing with them? Sitting there, while they tell you why black people are despicable pieces of shit. Or do you pretend you agree? God, that makes me sick thinking of you coming home and lying in my bed while you bad mouth my people behind me back.”
“Your people? When have they ever been your people, D’Rose? Your father raised you and you never saw your mother—”
“So that makes me less black?” I ask, furious that he brought up my sore point.
“No, I’m saying we’re on your side. Me, your dad, the whole of KOC with the exception of my fuckwad father. Don’t turn this into us against them. Because it’s not what it is.”
“It sure as hell feels like that. None of you understand what this did to me.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. I was there for you.”
“Oh yes, those last two years made up for everything. You don’t even know how much dealing with this fucked me up. I was a ten-year-old basket case, wondering what I did wrong to deserve the treatment I was receiving. My entire self-image was wrecked. And worst of all, no one did a damn thing about it which further enforced that I was the problem. If it wasn’t for my field, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me.” The words are tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“You got something to tell me, D’Rose?” Echo asks. His eyes are too sharp. He knows I’ve been hiding things.
I shake my head. “No, this won’t get us anywhere.”
“But ignoring it will?” Echo asks.
“Tonight is about you.”
“No…it’s about us and our survival or demise as a couple. You always glossed over the bad blood between you and my old man. I see now that there’s a lot you never told me. It makes sense now. Why you don’t want to move in yet. We still have a lot to talk about.”
The tables have flipped on me in an instant, and my head is spinning. “This is not about me.”
“Yes it is, and me. The both of us, growing up, talking up the hard shit and getting it together,” Echo says.
The bass in his voice and the tone in his words fulfill a need I didn’t realize I had. We’re not tiptoeing around the racism in the club or how it affects me any longer. It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I’m so used to sacrificing for the greater good, I’ve been trying to repress my true response to the situation. I understand it and I know it’s wrong, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop. Everything for the good of the club is my default mode. My eyes water and I blink to keep the fluid in check. I’ll be damned if I show my weakness. I clear my throat. “So what do we do next?”
“We leave and go somewhere we can talk, until we get this sorted. I can’t keep walking this line, uncertain about both parties. I need you with me for this, Dixie Rose.”
The use of my full name speaks volumes. “And I want to be there, but it can’t be at the cost of myself.”
“It won’t come to that,” he says.
“You can’t make that promise.”
He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Babe, look at me, listen, and hear what I’m saying. It won’t come to that.”
I close my eyes. I want to believe him, but I’ve been in this life too long. Shit spirals before you can wrap your mind around what’s happened.
He squeezes my hand. “If I wasn’t ready to follow this through, I wouldn’t have claimed you in front of everyone. I’m not telling you it’ll be easy, but we can do this, babe.”
I open my eyes and meet his intense stare. “Okay.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here and hit up the cabins. No one’s there and we could use some time away.”
“I have a few days, but that’s it, and I need to let Pops know. If I don’t show for a few days with no explanation, he’ll freak.”
“Yeah, I don’t want a pissed off Hoss coming for me.” Echo stands, throws a few twenties on the table, and holds out his hand.
I want to prolong the inevitable, but I know it won’t be possible. He’s got his mind set on talking things out now. He’ll be like a dog with a bone. I rise reluctantly, and follow him back through the restaurant and out the front to his bike.
***
A few hours later, we’re pulling up in front of the cabin. We have enough clothes and supplies to last us for the next couple of days. The three bedroom, two bath structure was painted slate grey with navy shutters. It has a nice deck with patio furniture I’ve spent many summer days lounging on. I climb off the bike, and gather our groceries from the saddlebag. The cold cuts, bread, mayo, and instant oatmeal are more than enough.
Echo hefts the saddlebags, tosses them over his shoulders, and follows me up the wooden walk way to the front door. After entering a code on the box hanging off the doorknob he retrieves the key.
My palms are clammy, and my throat is constricting—this is the moment I’ve been dreading for years. When I have to come clean about my past issues, and just how his father and our relationship had affected me.
He opens the door and stifling air greets us. “Let’s open up the windows, turn on the AC, and put away the groceries,” Echo says.
I jump on the chance to immerse myself in busy work, taking my time walking through the rooms and opening the windows on one side of the home. Once I fill the fridge and cabinets, I sit on the black leather couch and rest my hands in my lap.
Echo walks over waving two bottles of beer. No matter what, there’s always drinks in the cabin. The priorities of men. “I figure we could use this.”
“You figured, right,” I reply, holding out my hand. I grip the cool bottle, dragging my finger through the condensation.
“Where do you want to start?” Echo asks, sitting in the seat beside me.
“I guess at the beginning. What you all thought of as a small thing easily ignored or overlooked was soul destroying. It was more than disdain, glares, and sneers. I never understood him when I was younger. Then I got old enough to get it. I’ll never forget the way Stone punished them both the last time Dad got into it with Mouth. I didn’t want to get him in trouble, or make him lose standing with the club. It went against everything I’d ever been taught. Club comes first, and women don’t get involved in club business or come between brothers.”
“It’s different when it’s a child, D’Rose. You had to know that.”
“Why? I knew I was different. That the rules were different for me. I feared the consequences, so I kept quiet. It became my normal mode of operation.”
“Jesus, what did he do?”
I swallow. “He never put his hands on me. I think we both knew that was a line he couldn’t cross. I would’ve had to tell then. But he did intimidate the hell out of me. He would wait until he caught me alone and unleash hell. I’ll never forget the way he crowded me, ignoring the personal space rule. My nightmares are full of him larger than life, hovering over me, his tepid breath blowing against my face while I made myself as small as possible. Sometimes, his racial slurs would chase into my consciousness. I wondered if everyone felt that way.”
“Fuck, babe,” Echo says. He covers his face.
I glance away as the shame threatens to roll in. I know it’s not my fault, but this is the first time speaking of it with someone inside our circle. It feels taboo. In many ways, our rules are damn near a religion. There are rules we don’t break. It’s imbedded in us so deeply from the minute we’re cognate, going against the grain feels wrong. Even if it’s self-persevering.
“Once I got it in my head everyone was against me, I felt alone and isolated. I had Blue, and she understood somewhat. Yet, it wasn’t the same. No one else in the Kings has brown skin. I could see it with my own eyes, so the thoughts in my head didn’t seem that far-fetched. When I got to high school, things reached a boiling point. Kids are cruel, and the boys seemed to think we were strippers in training. It was a hell away from home. Having that last haven destroyed did something to me. I hit my breaking point. I grew reckless, and started acting out, doing anything I could to find release from the never ceasing pressures, doubts, and self-loathing built up over the years.” My mouth grows dry. I take a long pull from my longneck bottle.
Echo shifts beside me.
I can feel his gaze on me, but I can’t look at him. I have to purge. To get this secret out. “When I was teetering on the edge, I found a way. A patch to fix the gaping hole threatening to consume me. I started to cut.”
“What?” Echo says.
“Please let me finish. If you interrupt me, I won’t be able to,” I whisper.
He growls, but goes silent.
“It started of small a cut here, a cut there … always some place no one would see. On the inside of upper leg, my arms when it was cold out and I could justify long sleeves. I was careful. Then it grew and I started being marked up with linear lines. My dad—he caught me and got me some help. It got better for a while, but I was close to relapsing when you came and got me at the party. God, you changed so much without knowing. It was like, you made it okay for me to fully embrace myself as I was. It’s silly now, saying it out loud. How could one person do that? You knew me, from the beginning and yet, you saw value. It helped reinforce the same concepts I was working on with my counselor.”
“How did I not know any of this, D’Rose?” Echo asks.
“Because I didn’t want you to. It was before you, and you know how the club feels about shrinks. There’s too great of a risk something will slip through in the sessions. Dad and I kept this wrapped up tighter than a drum.”
“I wasn’t just anyone.”
“No,” I look up at him, “you were the love of the life. I wanted you to see me as strong, capable, and put together. I couldn’t bear to see you with pity in your eyes. If I’d seen a change in the way you treated me, it would’ve killed a part of me.”
“I wouldn’t have done that,” he says.
“You wouldn’t mean to. But it would’ve happened. Especially, with your father being the cause. God, it was always a slippery slope, and a tricky position for both of us.”
“Isn’t what we share worth the struggle?”
“That’s what we need to decide.”
“You’re having doubts now?” he asks, standing.
“No, but things are getting more complicated by the second. I mean, you’re basically doing undercover work that brings you in direct contact with hardcore racists. How far are you willing to go to be around Charm?”
“I don’t believe it, D’Rose.”
“No, but if you’re going to liberally using the word nigger or anything else derogatory toward my race, I can’t stand behind you. That would make me look like a fool.”
“This isn’t just for me or my brother. This is about the club. If I think someone’s trying to infiltrate, I have to check that out.”
“At my expense, huh?” I counter.
“Damnit, Dixie Rose! You’re putting my balls in a vise.”
“What do you want me to do, Echo?” I reply, exasperated.
“Be there for me no matter what, like an old lady is supposed to.”
“Now you’re questioning my commitment?”
He drops to one knee in front of me and my heart stutters. “Listen to me. You want real change to happen in this club? You want me to take Mouth down, right?”
“Of course I do,” I hiss, furious.
“Then let me do this the way I need to. I love you. I’m coming home to you, and this is all for you, so you can live the life you always should have had. I have to expose him fully and that means going from the inside out.”
His words make sense. I glance at the ceiling, reeling in my emotions and setting them aside to think logically. “If I agree to this, I want him buried under the shit you dig up. I want you to destroy him.”
“Done.”
I sigh. “Then let’s do this.”
***
Echo
There’s nothing sexier than your woman putting all her faith and trust in you. The minute D’Rose agreed to do this with me, the beast inside sprung from its cage. I push her legs apart and lean forward, sucking her right breast into my mouth through her tank top.
“Echo.” Her voice is raspy and her eyes are huge.
I massage her opposite breast as she buries her fingers in my hair and lets her head fall back. I know what she likes, and right now the last thing I want her to do is think too hard. Her throaty moans have my dick hard as a rock. I bite her hardened nipple. She arches her back and I roll the opposite hardened point between my fingers, elongating, and pulling gently as she writhes beneath me. Her breasts have always been sensitive. I pause long enough to shove up her tank top and pull down her bra. Her melon shaped mounds drop into my hand and I flick my tongue over her nipples.
“Echo.”
“Fuck yeah, babe. Let me hear you. I’m going to make you come without even touching that tight little pussy. Then I’m going to strip you bare and do it again and again.”
She cries out.
I push her breasts together and circle her nipples with the tip of my tongue.
“Yes, harder, please,” she moans.
I suck her nipple into my mouth, giving just enough attention to one turgid peak before I move to the other. Her ass lifts off the couch, and I know she’s close. I suck harder. Her words become garbled and her body tenses. As she screams my name her body quakes. I continue to suck gently, bringing her back down. When she slumps onto the couch I release my grip and strip her clothes off quickly before laying her down. I grab one of the accent pillows and place it under her ass, tilting her hips.
“I’ve been dreaming of tasting you all night.” I lick the crease where her leg and thigh meet, inhaling her aroma as I alternate between nips of the soft skin of her inner thigh and swipes of my tongue over the offended area. I grip her thighs, keeping her spread wide for me. “Ain’t no sweeter taste than this, babe.” I kiss her shaved lips and run the tip of my tongue up her slit, ghosting over her swollen clit. She bucks her hips. I repeat the action, increasing my speed.
“Yes, right there.” Her fingers grip at the leather. Her hips sway in a circular motion, and her pussy yields its nectar.
I continue to work her clit, easing two fingers inside of her heated core. Her walls welcome me, clinging to me. I slowly ease in and out, priming her for me. She’s so tight and wet, I can’t help but moan. “I love how tight and hot you are, babe.” I curl my fingers.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants.
Her head thrashes from side to side. Her fingernails dig into my scalp and her legs strain as she tries to close her legs. I hum. Her body tenses, her muscles flex, and she screams, grabbing my hair.
I continue to lap at her, gently bringing her back to reality. Sprawled out between her legs, I place soft kisses on her belly. This isn’t a race, it’s a marathon, and I’m not stopping until she’s spent and completely reassured I’m more in love with her now than I was when we were kids. “You back with me?” I ask.
“Mmm hmm.” She nods, giving me a slow smile. With her mused hair tumbling around her face, she’s a wet dream come to life.
I crawl up her body and take her lips. She moans, tangling her tongue with mine. One of the things I love about her, she never shirks away from kissing me after I go down on her. I rock against her, feeling her heat through my jeans. I move back and grip her hair. “I need to be inside of you right now, but I’m not going to do it on a couch.” I rise and lift her up into my arms.
There are rules when you stay here—you clean the sheets, and clear the fridge out before you go. I’ve never been as thankful for that as I am now. After tossing her on the bed I shed my clothes. When I climb between her legs and slide home, she wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my thighs. Pushed as deep as I can go, I line my pubic bone with her clit and find a steady rhythm.
Her nails dig into my flesh, and her muscles contract and relax around me.
“You feel so good, babe.” I move faster. “Tell me, whose pussy is this?”
“Yours.”
“I want to hear you say my name.”
“Yours, Echo.”
Her voice is shrill, and my cock swells. Her eyes swallow me whole as we both go up in flames. I’ve never felt as complete as I do right now, spilling into her as she calls my name and holds me tight from the inside out. I roll over, keeping us connected, and let her rest on my chest. I needed this physical affirmation to calm me. In my mind, she’s always been a runner. Now with my eyes open, I can see she was a hard ass survivor. Instead of turning and ratting my dad out, she removed herself from the situation and healed. I place an arm behind my head, and wrap the other one around her waist, running my fingers down her back. Her body is going slack, and I know she’s drifting off into what I hope is peaceful sleep.
“I’m going to make this all right, Dixie Rose. I promise you that. By the end, everyone will be welcome among the Kings, and you and I are going to the only Spencers that matter.”