Boz
THE NEXT morning, I slide into the seat next to Smoke, as Grim plops his big, furry ass down on the floor beside me. I motion for the prospect behind the bar to bring me a coffee. “And make it Irish.”
I went to sleep last night with a hard cock. No matter how many times I jerked that shit, it kept popping back up. One of the club whores would have been more than willing to help me out, but they wouldn’t have been any better than my damn hand. My dick wants one thing—Trix’s sweet pussy.
I’m all too aware that a rival President’s daughter is not someone I should be going after for a quick fuck. Hell, a few years ago, I would have never even considered it. She was meant to be more than pussy to me. Now, though, that shit can never happen.
All Trix can ever be is another woman in my bed. If Hoss were to find out I just fucked her, it would bring even more trouble to my door, but there’s no reason he needs to know. She’s a grown woman, so it isn’t his call anyway. I want her. Hell, my dick wants what it wants. There’s nothing I can do about that. She wants me, and it won’t be long before she’s begging me to fuck her.
Before the prospect can get my coffee, Brew sits down across from us and says, “You gotta do something about the stupid motherfucker.”
Neither Smoke nor I ask who he’s talking about. Everyone at the table, everyone in the club, knows that Crank is treading on thin ice. Word doesn’t take long to get around, and everyone has heard about the guns and how he hasn’t been following orders.
“I know I do, and I will,” I reply, grabbing my coffee from the prospect’s hand. “I just gotta figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do,” I say, taking a sip. I have to get some answers and get to the bottom of this missing shipment. I also have to take care of Cherry and Crank. We don’t need anyone that we can’t trust as a part of the club.
Knowing I’m not gonna say anymore, Smoke changes the subject. “What the fuck happened to your lip?”
A smile spreads across my face as I shrugged. “Trix decided to get a little feisty.”
I didn’t even realize the little fireball had sunk her teeth into me until I looked in the mirror. Hell, I was feeling too damn good to notice shit like her teeth. Nothing in my life has ever felt better than that kiss. Hell, her mouth was better than any pussy I’ve ever been in.
“I’d say that one can get more than a little feisty,” he says, looking at Brew. “I bet you had a blast trying to get them two bitches under control.”
“Had to go a round with the redhead,” Brew says, his face growing hard. “But Trix never got a chance to put up a fight.”
A chill snakes up my spine as I ask, “What do you mean by that?”
“She spouted off a little bit, and put up a fight to get away. Before she could throw the first punch, Crank slammed his fist into her head. She went out like a light.”
I jump from my seat, sending my chair crashing to the floor. “What the fuck? I told you to go in gentle.”
Grim jumps up from his spot on the floor and lets out a growl, looking around, trying to figure out what has me so worked up. When he doesn’t see anything threatening, he lays back down, still keeping an eye on the room.
Trix wasn’t some bitch we were grabbing. Her father is a biker, and an MC President, and she deserves what little respect we can give her. I realize shit can happen, but she didn’t need to be hurt. The woman might weigh one-twenty. Either one of the boys could’ve took her with one hand tied behind their back. How did I not notice that she had been hurt? He must’ve hit her where no one would be able to tell. It had to be a hard hit, though, to knock her out. I don’t know why she didn’t say something about it.
“I know what you told us, and so does Crank, but he didn’t give a fuck,” Brew says with a shrug. “I gotta be honest with you, brother. He had a hard-on for her the minute we saw her walking into the mall. He wasn’t willing to take a chance on letting her get away. If you don’t do something about him always going in full throttle, that shit’s gonna happen again.”
Anger shoots through me in one long wave, touching every part of my body. I’m about to pay Crank a visit, but my ringing phone stops me. I pull it from my pocket and see Hoss’ name flash across the screen.
Lifting my chin to Smoke and Brew, a silent command for them to shut up and listen, I place the phone against my ear. “Yo.”
“What the fuck kind of game are you playing?!” he shouts, forcing me to pull the phone back a bit.
“You took something of mine, so I returned the favor,” I say, even though I still can’t understand why he would do something so damn stupid.
“I heard all about the shit you have going with the Slayers. I didn’t take your fucking guns, didn’t even know you were getting another shipment.” I can hear him take a deep breath, before he goes on. “I want my daughter back right fucking now, or I’m coming after your ass.”
“One of my men saw your boys there. He saw them drive off with the shipment.” I tell him the story Crank told me. “If you didn’t authorize it, then you need to be talking to your crew.”
“Do you think I’m stupid enough to call you before knowing where my boys were?” he asks, but doesn’t give me time to respond. “Not one of my men was even on the road that night. We had a party for one of the old timers. He’s going nomad, wants to see the world before he’s six-feet under.”
My stomach twists as I think of what he just said. I expected a lie, but not this one. The story he told wasn’t even on my list of shit he would say. It’s too damn easy to verify. Parties like that pull in a big crowd, and bitches from all over are brought in to pick up the extras.
“Give me a second,” I mumble out, clicking mute on the phone.
I look around the room, until I see one of the club whores. “Hey, Pinky. Did you work a Revenge party a few days ago?”
“Yeah,” she replies with a smile on her face. “Tone’s going nomad, so Hoss brought girls in from all over to help say goodbye to him.”
Fuck! This isn’t looking good. Still, it could have gone down like Crank said. Unmuting it, I bring the phone back to my ear. “I can admit you might not have known the shit was going down, but you don’t know if all your boys stayed at the party.”
“I talked to every one of my men. Questioned each one of them,” he growls out. “I’m telling you, we didn’t have a damn thing to do with this.”
“Well, you’ve got to prove that to me if you want your girl back,” I tell him, letting him know she’s not going anywhere until he does what he is told.
He’s silent for a minute, before finally saying, “Let me talk to her.”