Virgin
The list of things I hadn't done in life was maybe shorter than the one I had done.
But, somehow, in one night with Freddie, I had managed to do several of the few things I had never experienced before.
A real date.
Telling someone my life story. No filters, no omissions, nothing to ease the often ugly parts of it, the bits that - admittedly - made me feel something completely foreign to me.
Vulnerable.
Then sex that wasn't exactly just sex.
Sex had always been something base, something primal, something that required attention and skill, but nothing else. Certainly not feelings. But there was no denying that there were feelings involved when I was inside Freddie.
After that, another first.
I didn't immediately get dressed and leave.
After that, yet another.
I had a woman bake for me. Just for me.
Then, finally, the last thing.
After we ate almost a whole pan of brownies, I had scooted back down in bed, curled her back into my chest, and stayed.
I'd stayed.
The whole night.
The slamming front door was what woke me up.
Not Freddie, though. I figured that was a bit of the institution left in her, used to endless loud noises, cells opening and closing, guards yelling, other women talking, shouting. You had to find a way to sleep through it after some time.
She shifted in the bed, sliding off of me, the freedom making pins and needles ravage my arm for a long moment as I listened to Thad slam around the house.
While no one would likely accuse him of being a quiet sort, I had a feeling he was being deliberately loud this morning. So that we knew he was back. So no one came out of the bedroom naked or something.
I shifted off the side of the bed, reaching for my underwear, pants, fishing in the pocket for my phone, making sure nothing important had come in from the club, realizing I really shouldn't have had the SUV out all night without permission.
All I had, though, was a text from Sug.
So, you gonna try to tell me again that this isn't going anywhere?
I didn't respond. Because, quite frankly, I didn't know how to. My head turned over my shoulder, finding Freddie there, the girly pink sheets twisted around her, draped just high enough to cover her ass and nothing else, leaving her whole back on display. There were little marks on the back of her neck, put there by my fingers - no doubt - when she had been going down on me. One cheek rested against the pillow, her face softer in sleep, lips parted slightly.
There was a foreign sensation as I watched her, an odd tightness across my chest. I didn't even know what to call it, but I was pretty sure that whatever it was meant I wasn't going to just be able to walk away like I had done countless times before, just wash my hands of her like this was nothing. Because, quite frankly, I knew it wasn't.
It was something.
Otherwise, I wouldn't have given her my story. I wouldn't have wanted hers. I wouldn't have been invested in it as she gave it to me. I wouldn't have asked questions, demanded clarifications.
I wouldn't have pictured finding that dickhead ex of hers and pounding his face unrecognizable.
For what he did to her. What he stole from her.
And also, just be-fucking-cause.
Because a man had to own up to his actions. You didn't pawn your shit off on someone who loved you, trusted you. You didn't let someone you cared about take the rap for your fuck ups.
That wasn't how it worked.
Maybe I was a different kind of criminal. More of an old school one. Like the mob with their code of honor. Brotherhood meant loyalty up to and including self-sacrifice. It meant taking your charges. It meant doing your time. Hell, it even meant doing the time for someone else if it was asked of you.
It would never have crossed my mind to let someone take the fall for my shit.
But this bastard didn't just let some schmuck in his crew go down, lose some years that would be repaid at some later date.
No.
He let his woman go down for him.
A woman who wasn't even knowingly involved in it.
If there was a list of people I couldn't stand - snitches came first, cowards were a clear second.
I couldn't fuck with cowardice.
You didn't get into a criminal lifestyle and expect freedom. That wasn't how it worked. And when shit went down, you manned the fuck up and dealt with the consequences.
I understood her rage. Hell, I didn't even lose ten years of my life, and I felt something similar as she told me the story, as I had a night to chew on it, let it settle deep in my stomach.
That being said, if this was going somewhere with Freddie and me - and something in me said it was, regardless of what I might have insisted to Sugar and everyone else at the clubhouse - I was going to have to find a way to bring it up again, reason with her, make her see that losing more of her life wasn't worth making him pay.
On that thought, I stood, slipping into my clothes, moving toward the door, figuring that Thad would purposely hang around in the main space until we emerged and he could get some words in.
And I thought it might be better if I went out first, got it over with. I didn't think Freddie was quite ready for the teasing yet. At least not in front of me. I knew she would get it in private. But that was different.
This - sex in general - was somewhat new for her.
Hell, even if she hadn't told me, I would have known it. The woman was a fucking live wire, sparking at every touch, her body demanding more at every turn.
Luckily, I could definitely give her more.
"Well well well. I figured that was your SUV parked out front. A bulletproof SUV, too, wasn't it?" Thad asked, standing in front of a coffee pot that was steadily dripping.
"Yeah. Reign likes safety," I agreed as I lazily buttoned my shirt.
"Not gonna lie. That is a good thing to hear. You know, you don't really get to pick who your little sister shows interest in, but a gun runner wasn't super high on our list of potentials for her."
"I get that," I agreed. And I did. If one of the guys with kids had their daughter grow up and fall for some out of town biker, they would have a fucking stroke. "But I'm what you got anyway."
"Mmhm," Thad said, pursing his lips a little. "So, I'm gonna assume that means this wasn't a 'get it outta my system' sort of thing?"
A 'what are your intentions toward my sister' conversation.
Would the new shit never cease?
"She's not out of my system," I told him, not wanting to make some promise that I might not be able to keep, not knowing if she would get out of my system, if I would be out of hers.
The idea of that made an uneasy feeling slosh around in my stomach.
I'd never been in this position before.
Wanting more, but not knowing if the other person did.
"Good to know," Thad said, turning to reach to pull down two mugs, setting them down on the counter, pouring us each some. "You can stop looking at her door, handsome. She thinks she is a terrible sleeper, but since she got out, she sleeps like the dead. And until her alarm wakes her up. Plus, figure she might be a little more wiped out than usual," he added with a smirk. "Uh oh," he said when there was a knock at the door.
"Uh oh?" I asked, reaching for the mug he handed to me as he took his own toward the door.
"You thought you'd just have to deal with the fun, easy going brother this morning. But it is, apparently, a two-for-one kinda morning. Yo, Colson," he called even as he was pulling the door open.
"Is Winnie up? We need to talk about the other... what is he doing here?"
I couldn't even be bothered by his glare. Like Thad had said just a moment before, I wasn't what they wanted for their sister. And I got that. Apparently, Colson was not as easily swayed to the idea as Thad was though.
"He is your little sister's new gentleman friend," Thad explained, passing his coffee mug into his brother's hand, going back to get another for himself. "Took her out on a fancy dinner date and everything."
"Did he leave his guns at home?" Colson asked, closing the door behind him, staring daggers at me as he did so.
"Left 'em in the car," I told him, it being the truth. I didn't go anywhere without a way to defend myself. Not since I was a teenager. But I hadn't brought any into Freddie's apartment, not knowing her feelings on that kind of thing yet. She knew my job, of course, but that didn't mean she expected to be exposed to aspects of it. Like my illegal personal gun.
"You're seriously okay with this in your place?" Colson asked, directing his anger to a safer target, one he was more accustomed to shooting at.
"Okay with Freddie having whatever company she wants to have in our place? Yes. Since I ain't her father, I am okay with her making her own decisions like the grown ass woman she is. 'Sides, did you get a look at his fine ass?" he asked, sending twinkling eyes at me.
"Look, I get that you like being the nice brother, the one who doesn't say shit so he doesn't have to deal with the backlash of it, but I can't be the only fucking one worried about her future. And if we can..."
"Politely mind your own business and let me live my life for the first time in a decade," Freddie cut him off. Involved in each other, we had somehow missed her getting up, throwing on a simple tee and a pair of silky purple shorts, moving into the doorway. "That would be great," she added, lifting her chin as she stared down her brother.
"I know you think I am being overbearing and overprotective, Winnie, but I just... I want you fucking here, okay? Not catching another charge because you end up with another asshole who cares more about himself than you."
"Normally, I'd say this wasn't my business," I cut in, voice low, rough. Angry? Yeah, angry. It wasn't a sound you often heard from me, but there was no mistaking it when it was there. "But don't you fucking dare compare me to that asshole ex of hers. I might not be on the side of the law you'd prefer, but I would never let her go down for my shit.
"Aw damn," Thad said, smirking. "You done gone and pissed off an outlaw biker."
"And why the hell should we believe you?" Colson shot back, getting closer.
"Okay, enough," Freddie declared, voice raised, stepping between us, her back to my chest. "You need to leave."
Colson and I both seemed to realize what just happened at the same time, both of us stiffening, looking at Freddie, then each other.
She'd stepped between us, sure, and there was nothing strange about that. The testosterone was stinking up the joint. He was riled. I was ticked off. And neither one of us seemed the sort to back down from a fight. Of course she wanted to stop that from happening.
But she had told her brother to leave.
Not me.
Maybe to someone else, that seemed small.
But to me, and to Colson, it was clear it was significant.
And there was no mistaking the shock of pleasure in my system at realizing she was siding with me. But I squashed that shit down. It was petty. Selfish, even. You didn't make someone choose loyalty like that. It wasn't fair.
"Nah, it's okay, babe," I said, reaching up to squeeze her shoulders. "I will get going. You two have been overdue for a talk for a few days. I'm just in the way."
"You're not in..."
"It's alright," I cut her off as she spun on her heel, looking worried, like she thought I was heading out, never to be seen again. "You gotta repair this shit, or it is just going to keep being an issue," I told her, voice low even though I knew Colson could easily hear and that Thad was doing his best to as well. "Talk to your brothers. Suss this shit out. We will meet up when you're free again," I told her, reaching for my phone, handing it to her. "Put your number in."
I had to admit, her confused slow blink up at me was fucking cute as shit.
And cute was not a word I had ever - in my recollection - used to describe a woman before.
Yet another first.
She reached for my phone, adding in her number, pressing it back into my hands.
Aware of morning breath, I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, giving her wrist a squeeze.
"I'll call," I told her, moving out. "Thad, nice seeing you. Colson," I added, simply giving him a nod, then making my way out.
It was a short drive back to the clubhouse, not nearly enough time to figure out what the fuck was going on. With me. With Freddie.
And seeing Reign's bike parked out front that early in the morning had me parking and all but running inside to make sure nothing was going on.
I swear to fuck, the second I opened the door and stepped inside, the stereo system started blasting "Another One Bites the Dust."
"You got jokes?" I asked, zeroing in on West who was pretending to innocently put the iPod down. "You think that's smart given my position and yours?" I asked, shaking my head, wondering what kind of disgusting, ass-breaking job I could throw at him.
"I picked the song," Sug announced, moving out from the kitchen with a coffee mug. "Can't be too pissed at him for being the only one with it on his iPod. So... this thing with that girl, you still trying to tell me it's casual?" he asked, taking a pointed look at my clothes from the night before.
"Why is Reign here so early?" I asked instead of answering, something that made Sugar's lips twitch.
"Roan scoped Third Street over on our side of town last night."
"Selling?" I asked, feeling myself stiffening, wondering if I was going to get chewed out for not being around.
"Looked like it from up in the box," Repo chimed in. "But you know Reign. He wants to be sure before he starts shit. Third Street has always minded its business, stayed on their turf, obeyed an unwritten rule around here."
"Too much turnover lately," Cash agreed, coming in out of the hall. "It was easier when it was Paine or Enzo, back when there was a definite leader for some span of time. They got a new boss every other week the past few years. Some not even from the area. Either don't know how shit works, or don't care."
"Well, whatever leader they got now, apparently, needs to be reminded how shit works in Navesink Bank," Reign pitched in, coming in from the basement which was the backward way of getting up to the glass box. "It went down too fast for Roan to snag a picture and Lo's guys just didn't have a good enough angle to see it, but he was sure he saw a deal. And that fuck has eagle eyes. I don't think he's mistaken. But I don't want to act until one of us sees it up close."
"You want us casually strolling the streets at night?" Repo asked.
"Everyone'll have to take turns. They'll get suspicious if they see the same people over and over. But, yeah, I want someone to see the deal go down."
"And then?" Sugar asked.
Reign's look was all the answer we needed.
It wasn't a pretty part of the lifestyle, but a necessary one nonetheless. You couldn't keep an organization going if other organizations thought they could walk all over you, could get away with whatever they wanted on your turf.
So whoever saw the deal go down would wait till the buyer was gone, check for cops, then drag the bastard in for a beatdown.
After that, I imagined we'd all get on bikes, drive on down to Third Street, and drop their man at their doorstep as a warning.
"And if that doesn't cut it?" I asked.
"Then Third Street will need to be looking for a new leader," Reign declared, shrugging.
I wondered, not for the first time, how much blood was on his hands. My old presidents had been delegators, rarely down in the real muck of it, letting everyone else do the dirty work in case shit went down, and the law got involved.
Reign wasn't a hands-off kind of leader. And his club had endured more than its fair share of ups and downs, interference from outside influences. Hell, there was the war alone he had raged after his men were gunned down in their own clubhouse. We'd only heard it secondhand from Edison, but he'd described the bloodbath, the beaten and prone bodies of men on the floor he'd needed to step over as they dragged him out of the place, the savage look on Reign's face, the blood and brain matter all over his body.
I'd been there to witness how hard he went at Abruzzo when his daughter went missing.
Reign was someone who kept his cool, collected information, ruled with a level head. But when he needed to have business handled, it was raw, brutal, unapologetic. It was easy, at times, to forget that. You saw him with his kids, with his wife, saw him being a family man, and you forget that he was a man who had beaten faces in, shot men dead, tortured answers out of tight-lipped people.
He was calm now, seemingly, but as soon as he had the kind of proof he wanted, he would take a hold of every neck in Third Street until they remembered that he was the big dog in town, and that he fought when you rattled his fucking cage.
"I know it might be hard to fit a patrol into your new relationship," Reign went on, eyes dancing, lips quirking up. "But you're gonna have to pen it in."
"Shit, you too?" I asked, laughing despite myself. It wasn't often Reign took it upon himself to rib any of us. It made a man forget he was capable.
"Dunno when you fucks are gonna learn not to say 'Not me' about relationships. As soon as you say it, you are the next to find yourself a woman. Wanna stay single, keep your mouth shut."
West mimed locking his lips.
"Eh," Reign said, shaking his head a bit apologetically. "Lo has decided you're her new project. So you're fucked whether you keep your mouth shut or not," he declared. "Anyway. Tonight is gonna be me, Sugar, and Virgin. Tomorrow, we will rotate it. But you all need to be available by cell in case shit goes down over this," he told us, making his way toward the door. "I'll be back when it gets dark."
"Whoop, yo," Pagan said, almost barreling into Reign on his way in. "Something up?"
"They'll fill you in," Reign declared, jerking his chin toward us as he made his way out.
Pagan's head swiveled around, a bright red scrape down the side of his face, testament to some scuffle he had gotten his crazy ass into. "The fuck is this? You got a modeling gig or some shit?" he asked, giving my outfit a distasteful once-over.
"Didn't you hear?" Cash asked, looking way too excited to pile on. "Virgin got himself a girl."
"I did hear actually," Pagan informed us, going behind the bar to grab a beer despite it not even being noon. "Don't give me that look. You'd be drinkin' too if you woke up to a busted pipe then a contractor who wanted to fuck you over. Fucking me over," he scoffed, cracking the top of his beer.
"That where you got the new accessory?" Cash asked, motioning to his face.
"Well, how the fuck is he gonna learn?" he shot back. "Anyway, Kennedy told me you dropped down in a pedicure chair and moon-eyed some new chick in town. Also said you got ticklish feet," he added, adding even more gasoline onto an already raging fire.
"You got ticklish feet?" Sugar asked, trying his damnedest to hold back a grin. "How do I not know this about you?"
"Shut the fuck up," I demanded, but without malice. "You know, I don't remember fucking with any of you this hard about spending some time with a woman."
"What can we say, we're short on hobbies lately," Cash said, pushing off the bar. "I gotta go up to Hailstorm. Chris is having a lesson with Edison and Lenny. Not sure how this is gonna go."
Chris had made progress as a whole. Had started training up at Hailstorm with Lo, Janie, Maze, Alex, Lenny... most of the girls club. But she lost her shit when she tried to spar off with any of the guys. Fucking understandably so, but we all knew she would never really have full training until she could shake off a man, until she didn't shut down or bug out. I guess they settled on Edison this time because he did his pressure point shit that didn't require full contact.
Lo had taken to motherhood the way everyone had expected her to. Effortlessly. She'd been, after all, a mother figure to everyone in her organization for years already. And because Lo was safe, Chris had taken to her as well, clinging to the calm, confident, capable woman who promised to show her how to be all those things as well. In time.
And Cash, well, he tried. He was there. Present. Persistent. Patient. Even though Chris hadn't been great about showing any kind of affection toward a man yet.
We figured if she were ever capable of feeling that for a man, it would be Cash. Who was, essentially, one of the easiest going, loving men I had ever been around, always good with the kids, quick with a joke, not easily pushed away or offended.
We were all silently hoping for him. For Chris. For all of them and their newfound family unit.
"Only been like a year," another voice joined our conversation. One of the roughest ones we had. Not Edison, Wolf.
And, well, he would be one to know about women and recovery from the horrible things done to them, being with Jstorm.
"How does someone as massive as you walk around like a cat?" West wondered aloud, making heads turn to him. West, it seemed, was born devoid of that hindrance called a filter. Everything he thought, he spewed right out. I had a feeling it would either be refreshing over time, or completely fucking intolerable. Time would tell.
Wolf's gaze slid over, brows pulled together slightly. "Shop floors are dirty," he declared, then made his way toward the bedrooms without another word.
"The shop floors?" West clarified.
"Repo's shop," Sugar clarified.
"What kind of shop?"
Pagan's lips tipped up. "Antique car shop. Good luck with those oil stains, man," he added, clamping a hand on his shoulder before moving off.
"He's serious? He wants me to clean shop floors?" West asked.
"Maybe you can call up Finn for some ideas on cleaners," Sugar suggested.
"Who is Finn?" West asked, lost.
"He's got a lot to learn," Sugar told me as I moved into step beside him.
"Mmhmm," I agreed, both of us enjoying this way more than we should have seeing as Sug and I were in West's shoes not that long ago, having to figure out all the intricate ins and outs of the complicated Navesink Bank criminal underbelly.
"So you gonna see her again?"
"Told her I would."
"Is that a yes?" he demanded to know, not letting me evade.
"It's a yes," I declared, going into my room before he could ask me anything else.
Once some of the guys cleared out, I was given some slack, everyone speculating more on what was going on with Third Street instead of about my fucking feet... or what was going on with me and Freddie.
I texted her, though.
Another first.
Just casually asking how things went with her brother.
She hadn't answered, and I figured it was because she was likely at work.
"Stop checking your fucking phone," Sugar growled at me as I came back in from a casual stroll, my third of the night. Sugar and Reign had been out at least as many times as well.
Nothing.
But then again, it wasn't like Roan saw it every night either. Just once. Maybe it had been a fluke, some newbie who didn't know the rules. Or maybe we just needed to wait it out a couple more nights.
"Do I give you shit about how much Peyton texts you?" I shot back.
"She finally answer? What? Think I didn't know?" he asked, smirking. "Had that sad puppy look all fucking day until, what, she got outta work and answered you, right?" He was right, damn him. And I had about my fill of ribbing for the day.
"Lay off."
"She coming over tonight?" he asked, ignoring me. "Peyton wants to meet her," he added.
To that, I chuckled, rubbing the side of my face. "I don't know if she is quite ready for Peyton yet," I told him.
"She's not that crazy."
"She drives a hearse."
"So?"
"She likes snuff books."
"They're not that bad," he defended her even though I had seen him trying to read one once. And his hardened criminal ass looked a little green.
"And don't think that alien cock story didn't get around to me too," I added, making him smile as he hung his head, knowing he was defeated.
"I don't want the girls to get their hooks into her until I know where things are heading myself," I admitted.
"That's fair enough," he agreed. "But you got about a week before they all get on your ass. So decide shit fast."
A week.
I figured that would work. If we spent time together and didn't get sick of each other, then, yeah, it was fair to say it was heading somewhere. I wasn't talking hearts and rings and shit. But maybe somewhere serious enough that she might be around the club some more. Which would warrant her getting to know the girls club.
My phone buzzed in my hand, something it took her half an hour to get up the nerve to text.
Do you want to come over?
And fuck yes, I did.