Chapter Six
Rahab ignored the ringing phone in his room and rolled back over to hug Liz, only she was no longer in bed beside him. Then he remembered she’d already left. “Fuck.” He sat up and picked up the phone. “What?”
“It’s Chloe. What do you want for breakfast?”
Fuck. Never piss off a pregnant old lady, especially when she belonged to Gorgon. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap. Eggs and bacon, I guess.”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Chloe.”
“Not a problem. Be about fifteen minutes.”
He’d hear about that one, but fuck it. His head hurt, and his dick ached. He was entitled to be a prick this morning. He still smelled Liz’s perfume all over the bed, even though she’d joined him in the shower after he’d fucked her in the ass.
Gorgon had called up once to ask him where the fuck he was, since he was supposed to be in the club, and Rahab had told him he wasn’t coming down. He’d hear about that, too. No fucking doubt about it.
So what? He’d dealt with Gorgon’s shit before, and he’d deal with it this morning. After putting on sweatpants and a t-shirt, he opened the windows to get the smell out of the room. It was fucking cold outside, but the crisp air helped clear his head.
Last night had been the most erotic, exciting night he’d ever spent with any woman, in all his forty years. Not that he’d been fucking women that long, but he’d been doing it since before he turned eighteen. And not one had left him with this longing, aching need to see her again. To touch her body. To inhale her fucking scent. Goddamn.
She’d left at the fucking crack of dawn, and he hadn’t been able to stop kissing her after escorting her outside. It was fucking embarrassing, especially since she’d be back later to drop off the corrections. Donny had already left a message she’d found this morning on her cell, saying he needed them by seven at the latest.
That meant Rahab would see her again. Tonight. But if he blew off his club duties as an officer a second night in a row, Gorgon would be legitimately pissed off. His first priority was this club, especially right now.
Vito had only been dead a few weeks, and things were still volatile. Just because Roberto di Stefano or any of his lieutenants hadn’t made an appearance in Creek Ridge, or at the club, didn’t mean they weren’t going to. It didn’t mean this was over. Di Stefano wanted in on the action as much as Donny did. More, even, since he was likely the one who had had Vito taken out.
The whole mess was a convoluted clusterfuck that gave him a headache if he thought about it long enough. But it was their mess to deal with, and as an officer of the MC, that included him.
When the door opened, he expected Chloe, but it was Gorgon who carried in the tray. Great. He dumped it on the table, sloshing some of the coffee out of the cup in the process. “Sit down and eat. We need to talk.”
Rahab took a seat and drained the coffee cup. He was grateful Chloe had included a small pot of it. As he poured himself a second cup, he dared to look into Gorgon’s eyes. “Look, I know I fucked up last night. I —”
“I don’t give a shit about that right now. Vassago had a call from Donny early this morning.”
Rahab froze. Vassago was their Treasurer and Donny’s cousin. Whenever there was news, Vassago usually heard it from Donny first. “What the fuck happened now?”
“Joey Penito was found this morning by the women who come in to clean for him once a week. He’d been shot in the head. Cops think he’s been dead in there since the last time the broads were there to clean.”
“Fuck.” Joey was one of Vito’s lieutenants, and also one of two men with whom Donny was drawing up the agreements. “Goddamn, Gorgon.”
“Yeah. I know. Cops are all over this shit. Donny’s doing what he can through his contacts to keep it quiet, but I don’t know if he can this time.”
“Which means di Stefano knows what Donny is doing.”
“Maybe. Vassago thinks it might just be di Stefano taking out Vito’s key people, but who the fuck knows?”
“I’m having trouble imagining anyone who works for Donny betraying him.”
“Doesn’t have to be any of his men. Could be one of the Outlaw Dogs. The group that followed Howler know he’s in negotiations with Vito’s men.”
The Outlaw Dogs MC used to be their rivals. They operated out of the Last Stop Saloon, just on the other side of Creek Ridge. Most of the members were former classmates of the Demons on Wheels MC members, but they had never been what the Brothers would call friends.
“The group that followed Mad Dog might have some in it who also know about the contracts.”
“Yeah. True. Just because a member sided with Howler doesn’t mean he’s thrilled about Donny taking over Vito’s operation here.”
The Outlaw Dogs MC’s former President, Mad Dog, had been shot and killed by Howler several months ago after it was discovered Mad Dog was talking to other Mob bosses behind Vito’s back, and was basically out to betray the entire MC. Howler, their former Road Captain, had killed him, but served no jail time. His story of self defense had convinced the DA, and charges were never filed. Vito likely had a hand in keeping Howler out of jail as well.
But not everyone in the Outlaw Dogs MC had been happy Mad Dog got what he deserved, or believed he had done wrong in trying to set up a better deal than the one they had under Vito’s protection. A rogue group had split off and formed around Mad Dog’s followers.
This group was now aligned with a Mob boss from Queens named Roberto di Stefano. Donny knew this man from his youth in Brooklyn, and called him bad news. Donny was convinced that di Stefano had had Vito killed so he could gain a foothold in this area.
That was the main reason Donny was trying to take over Vito’s operations here. He didn’t want to see the town, the Demons on Wheels MC, or the reformed Outlaw Dogs MC overrun with what he called “New York roughhouse bullshit”.
The Demons on Wheels had put up with enough shit already from both the original Outlaw Dogs MC and the rogue group. Members of the rogue group had tried to cut a hole in their fence to get onto the land, and new members of that same group had boldly walked into the club one night during business hours to start a fight. One of them had even slapped Meghan during that incident.
Of course, that man was now dead, but they still didn’t need anyone from out of state coming here to cause trouble. They had enough local shit to deal with.
Rahab ate while Gorgon talked about Donny’s plans to speed things up with the contracts. “I heard Liz is coming back with the corrections tonight.”
“That’s the plan.”
“And should we expect you to disappear again when she shows up?” Rahab hated it when Gorgon was smart-ass and sarcastic at the same time.
“Look, Gorgon. I said I fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Do you think it’s a good idea fucking someone from the same law firm Donny has on retainer?”
“What difference should it make?”
“You might talk too much in your sleep.”
“I don’t talk in my sleep. And what do you think we talk about while we’re fucking? Mob hits? I wasn’t up here having a heart-to-heart with her. I was fucking her brains out. Okay?”
“Okay. Fine. But tonight wait until the club closes to fuck her. Got it?”
“I got it.”
Gorgon stood. “I called a church for ten this morning, which means you have less than ten minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Oh, and don’t ever mouth off to my old lady again.”
“Got that, too.”
****
It took three cups of strong coffee to get her through the corrections, which took just over an hour and a half. She wasn’t due back at the club with them until seven, which meant she now had roughly five hours to kill. Five hours before she was face-to-face with Rahab again. Five hours until she had a decision to make. Fuck him again, or end this now before she derailed all her plans and got herself into an emotional turmoil over a man.
Sleeping most of the morning hadn’t helped dim the memories. Neither had another shower, because during it, all she could think about was the one she’d taken with him last night. She could still feel his dick inside her pussy, her mouth, and her ass. She tasted his lips on hers.
Her boobs hurt from him squeezing them so much, but it was the good kind of pain. Her ass cheeks were bruised, but every time she’d glanced at them in the mirror, her entire body tingled with the memories of being held down over his knee and spanked hard.
She’d been poised on the edge of an orgasm all day, as if her clit was now stuck in high gear. And each time she closed her eyes, she saw that handsome face with the big, brown eyes. Fuck. This was exactly what she had managed to avoid for years.
There was work to be done. Plans to see through. Once she’d been employed with the firm for six months, they would pay her way through law school. Going gaga over a man, and especially an MC member, was most definitely not part of the agenda she’d written for her life.
Falling for Rahab would ruin everything. She’d be right back where she’d started, fresh out of high school and flat broke, with no fucking clue where her next meal was coming from. And she’d be damned if she’d go backwards. Not after working this hard to earn a degree and bury her past.
This firm was the first time in her life she’d had someone to rely on. Not only was it her livelihood, but because the benefits were so incredible, beginning with the very generous tuition reimbursement plan, she finally felt grounded. Stable. Like her goals were within reach.
At twenty-nine years old, she was the perfect age to plow full steam ahead with those goals. No man to take care of, no one to support except herself, and no family that she knew of, anyway. There was nothing and no one to stop her.
It wouldn’t matter to Rahab if she turned him down tonight. He’d fucked dozens of women. She’d bet money on it. Liz Chavez, the paralegal sent to help Donny, was simply one more notch on his bedpost. If she said “no”, he’d merely move onto the next one. No harm done. No hurt feelings. She had to stay strong and focused. Eleven years of doing exactly that had brought her so much already.
She’d worked a string of lousy, minimum-wage jobs so she wouldn’t starve and had a place to live. It had taken her five years to save enough to pay for her paralegal training, and she remembered every moment of those five years. Denying herself everything except basic necessities so she could save money. She still lived in a horribly declining neighborhood because the rent was dirt cheap. There was time to get a better place later. Once she was through law school.
The paralegal training was supposed to have taken two years, but she’d completed it in four because she only had time to take one or two classes each semester. She’d worked all through it, and had spent more than one seventeen-hour day off work in the law library on the Case Western Reserve University campus. They were open longer hours than the one on the Cleveland State Campus, and allowed non-students inside at any time.
It was easy to sleep in a library if you got there early enough on a weekday and nabbed one of the study rooms. No one saw you or bothered you because they were in class. She had slept in one often enough to know. Once the place began to get more crowded after classes let out, she’d move to the general seating area and study until closing time.
After finally graduating, her first job as a paralegal hadn’t paid very much, and the firm was too small to hire her full time, but it had given her the practical experience necessary to land her current position. Her dream job. The one she’d worked this hard for. She’d be damned if she’d blow it simply because she’d finally met a man who fucked like he actually understood a woman’s body, and who made her respond in ways she’d never imagined possible.
The deep, booming bass of her next-door neighbor’s music shook the walls, the same as it did every afternoon. It had taken Liz four months and the threat of a lawsuit to get him to stop playing the music late at night. Her piece-of-shit landlord didn’t give a rat’s ass whether music or any noises bothered another person, as long as the tenants in the building paid their rent on time.
Her bathroom sink still dripped from the cold water faucet, there was a crack in her bedroom window that she had put duct tape over, and she’d given up trying to use the washers and dryers in the basement. They never worked, and when they stole her quarters, she was never reimbursed. It was easier to walk three blocks and do her laundry with the Wash-O-Matic crowd.
This place was a fucking dump. She could now afford a much nicer apartment, but she was saving a shitload of money by staying here. In the end, it would be worth it. If growing up as she’d done had taught her anything, it was that if you didn’t save money whenever and wherever you could, someone would always be happy to take it from you. Whether you received a fair value in return for what you paid was tenuous at best.
She only used the briefcase she’d spent way too much on when she was face-to-face with clients. Same with the expensive suits and shoes she’d splurged on. When she was working in the office everyday and had no appointments scheduled, she dressed down.
Liz shoved her laptop into her bag, along with some snacks and water bottles. She’d go to the law library and pass the time until she drove to the club. At least there she could read, and it would be quiet.
Maybe, if she spent the afternoon surrounded by law books, and in the atmosphere she’d grown to love, she’d be less tempted to throw caution to the wind and spend another night with Rahab. Maybe.