CHAPTER THREE
Alessandra
SITTING OUTSIDE OF THE forensics laboratory I bite at my nails anxiously, the thought of what I’m about to do makes butterflies swarm in my stomach like a hurricane about to take over a major city. There will be no going back, the damage will be done and my badge will be scuffed with my defiance of the law.
Just as I think about turning around Billy walks outside with a black bag swung over his shoulder. His hair is more of an orange than red color, and his face is square and sprinkled with freckles. His cliché lab coat matches his geeky glasses perfectly. I watch him as he gets inside of his blue Mini Cooper and drives off.
I follow, as what I have to say to him I can’t have cameras recording. At a stoplight I flash my lights at him and he glances in his rearview mirror at me. He drives forward pulling over on the side of the road. Not much traffic comes through this side of town, as it’s the back way to avoid the highway. He must be on his way home; the other way would suggest he’s going for groceries or dinner.
I pull in front of him and park. Getting out I meet him between the cars and give a big friendly smile. The ground is hot beneath my boots, and the heat is so thick you can barely take a breath. There’s cactus and bare desert around us, the city just beyond a giant broken chain-link fence not far from here.
“Hey!” I say with too much enthusiasm. Shit, tone it down. Last time we met, it didn’t go too well. I’m surprised he even stopped, to be honest.
He gives me a nervous grin, the flare in his eyes telling me he hasn’t forgotten either.
“Hey Alessandra, is there something you need? Did I forget something?” He looks over his shoulder back in the general direction of the lab. His tense posture telling me he’s scared of me. The bulge in his slacks conveying he finds me attractive too.
I giggle flirtatiously and reach for the lapel of his blue polo.
“No silly, I just had a question.” I wrinkle my nose in that cute little bimbo way I do. Using my looks to my advantage.
He looks down, his cheeks turning a shade of red. His Velcro tennis shoes kicking at the loose dirt.
“Oh yeah?” he mumbles through a too big of a grin.
“Hey, what evidence did you pull from those casings from the Sin City Outlaw’s clubhouse?” I ask, trying to keep the lust in my voice so my personal emotion doesn’t cloud that. Hopefully he buys it, I don’t want to have to do what I did last time I needed information from him.
His head pops ups, his grin gone. My rose colored glasses turning a shade darker.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he bites his lip looking out into the distance.
“Oh come on, I’m just curious.” I twirl my hair, popping my hip out. Trying one last time to pull the information I need from him before having to do it the hard way. The risky way.
His eyes rake me up and down the words I want to hear right on the tip of his tongue.
“I can’t… I’m sorry.”
“Fuck!” I roll my eyes, my fingers straining like I want to strangle the fuck out of his geeky ass. My flirt innocent act drops like a sack of ice, and anger replacing it. His face drops as I suddenly whip out my Taser and strike him right behind the shoulder. The device vibrates my palm as it shoots an electric current through his small frame. His body spazzes and he falls forward like a dead weight. I look around making sure nobody saw, but it’s deserted. I’m so going to hell.
“Why did you have to take the hard way,” I mumble, unlocking my trunk angrily. Tucking my arms under his armpits, I shuffle him up and toss the top of his torso into the trunk.
“Jesus you’re heavier than last time,” I heave, tugging his bottom half into the small space. I begin to sweat, my heart beating harder at the thought of me getting caught shoving a body in my car.
Closing the trunk, it hits his head making him come too.
“Alessandra!” He bangs around, his voice in complete panic.
“Are you going to tell me?” I ask, leaning against my car. My arms crossed casually as I watch the dirt dance in the wind. My back is covered in sweat and tickles as it drips down my skin. Damn it’s hot out here.
“Damn it, I can’t believe you’re doing this again,” he mumbles to himself, and I silently giggle. Being a good cop isn’t just about following the law and the rules you swore by. It’s about knowing when not to follow and abide by them. I don’t bleed blue, I’m a darker breed than the badge on my uniform will ever understand. If I can get a lead on those shell casings, I’ll have something to put into the pockets of Sin City Outlaws and gain their trust. I’ve gone too many years turning my head from my father’s death. Not anymore.
My personal phone rings, grabbing my attention from the screaming man in my trunk.
It’s Jillian.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I just got to the club. I’m so out of my league here. I don’t know what Zeek brought me to, but I’m not thrilled with this. I mean, I want to protect my kids, but the sheriff in me wants to run at these assholes,” she huffs into the phone in one long breath. “The girls won’t even look in my direction so he must have said something to them,” she continues, with a hint of pride in her voice.
“Has he duct taped you to a chair yet, keeping you hostage from doing a sweep through for drugs and illegal guns,” I laugh because Jillian would so do that.
She giggles. “Not yet, but he did threaten to tie me to the bed.”
“Let me out of here, goddamn it!” Hollers from my car with a series of pounds against the trunk. I hold my hand over the receiver and step away.
“What was that?” Jillian asks with a concerned tone.
“I um, I have someone in custody,” I lie. Jillian is my best friend, but she’d never understand the way I do things. Jillian is strictly rulebook, and I make my own rules. I fear it will come between us.
“Oh, I’ll let you go. Just wanted to let you know we are here and safe.”
“Good to hear. Thanks by the way for having me tailed!” I spit angrily.
“Anything for my friend,” she replies sarcastically. Scoffing, I hang the phone up and growl under my breath at Billy and his loud mouth. Hopefully Jillian bought that he was a suspect in custody.
Popping the trunk, he throws himself over the side dramatically huffing for air.
“It’s not that bad, you’re being a baby,” I silently laugh, crossing my arms.
“It is when you’re claustrophobic!” he blubbers. He’s all sweaty, with his face beet red and nose running.
“You ready to tell me what I want?” I tap my foot in a bored manner.
He raises his head, his forehead wrinkled.
“It’s got to take one crazy motherfucker to love you, you know that?” He tilts his head to the side. I can’t help the smirk that breaks through my annoyed look. I haven’t found my prince in shining tattoos yet, but I will one day. He will accept the good and the bad parts of me, and love me like a madman. One I should probably take into custody, but would much rather ravage me in the back of my cruiser.
“The case was taken from me, Alessandra,” Billy’s voice breaks me from my mental fairy tale.
“The main forensic, JT, took it and closed the file. Told me it was out of my pay grade. I overheard him telling someone else that nothing but a turf war would come of the findings. So I’m guessing that is why they closed it.” He shrugs, and I drop my head defeated. I kidnapped a man and put him in my trunk for nothing.
“But, I did manage to get a name off a partial print on one of the casings before the case was taken from me, but I wasn’t able to run it fully,” Billy continues as he climbs out of the trunk.
This piques my curiosity.
He points at me with a sharp finger, his sweaty brows sliced inward. “If I tell you, no more fucking trunk. GOT IT?” he demands. Rolling my eyes, I put my hands on my hips. I can find other ways to get what I need out of him in the future so why not agree.
“Fine,” I mumble.
“Apollo Bates,” he heaves, wiping his forehead with his lab coat.
“Apollo Bates?” I whisper, not familiar with the name. Then again most of the gang members around here don’t go by their legal name. They have nicknames. I’ll have to run it in our database and see if it notes what gang he’s with. Either way, it’s something to bring to the Sin City Outlaws.
“Are we done?” he snaps.
Coming back to the conversation, I nod. “Yeah, thanks.” He shakes his head walking past me. Reaching out I grab his arm to stop him.
“No really, this is doing something personal for me. I really appreciate it.” My soft tone wipes his pissed off look away.
“I hope you get what you’re looking for, Alessandra.”
Letting him go I watch him get in his car and drive away. He really would be a great guy to hook up with… if I was into soft geeks. I’m not though. I like the bad boys, the kind that I can frisk for breaking the law, and have my way with right before I put them in jail. The kind that would have my dad turning over in his grave if he ever saw them approach his daughter.
Alessandra
Stepping up to the Outlaws’ club, I take a deep breath. The pistol in the back of my jeans reminding me that no motherfucker is going to be putting me in my place today. I was an idiot not to bring it with me before. Jillian is here now though, and if things go south, she’ll have my back.
A man that looks like prospect due to his patch-less cut, holds his hand out, stopping me from entering the club and I shoot him an annoyed look. His head is completely covered with a red bandana, his square jaw sexy with its dark stubble, the side of it scarred. He has quotes of famous killers from all over the country on his arms and up his neck. Ted Bundy’s words about Murderers standing out to me more than the others. Swallowing the dry lump in my throat, I clear my voice.
“Can you tell whomever it concerns that Alessandra is here?”
The man scoffs, his ice blue eyes cutting me where I stand. My hand twitches to grab my gun out of pure fear, but I resist.
“We’re on lockdown, nobody enters without the say-so of a patch holder,” he informs me dryly. My eyes fall on his name at this point, curious who he is. I’ve never seen him before. The Outlaws must be recruiting new members.
Bomber Jack.
I wonder what he did to earn that nickname. Actually, I don’t want to know.
“Well, Bomber Jack, tell your president I have something he wants regarding this morning’s shooting,” I tell him with a click of my tongue. The man turns his head to the side, unsure of what to do. He was clearly ordered to tell everyone to fuck off, but what if he turns me away and the president wants the info I have?
“Don’t fucking move,” he sneers, the tone of his voice gluing my black boots to the asphalt. The man slips inside, and seconds go by. A chill races up my spine as I sit in front of the most dangerous club in the city, maybe the world. My heart is beating so hard it’s making me anxious. I might actually vomit.
The man steps back outside and silently juts his head toward the door. Indicating I can enter the den of outlaws.
Stepping inside, the smoke is thick and heavy. “Porn Star Dancing” by My Darkest Days plays loudly. The lighting is dim, only a bright red light above the bar flashing on two girls making out with each other. A man that looks like the member Mac is getting blown by a skinny woman with pink colored hair, she’s butt naked with a snake tattoo claiming her whole right side. I’ve seen a lot of crap in my wild days, but I feel out of my league in every way. Where are Jillian and the kids?
Pushing through the thick crowd, I seek out Felix or Zeek. The crowd slowly splits and my eyes fall onto Felix. He’s sitting in a chair in the middle of the room owning it as if it’s his throne. A blunt hangs out of his mouth, with smoke dancing around him like an exotic gypsy. He emits power and control by just the size of him and the look on his face. He owns the room without even having to move or say anything. His long hair is down and sitting on his strong shoulders. A black worn shirt pulls at his chest tightly and my fingernails dig into my palm with the urge to scratch him like a wildcat. To feel those hard abs beneath my fingernails.
Sitting on his knee is a chrome .45; his hand resting on the handle of it. His head is lowered, his gray eyes surveying the room cutting through everyone like a sword before finally meeting mine. I inhale a breath so deep my lungs burn from the smoke, my toes curl in my shoes and I have to remind myself to exhale.
Taking a step forward, two girls step in my way. One I recognize as Dolly, she used to give Jillian crap a lot, I’m surprised she’s still around. The other woman I’ve never seen before.
“You lost, sweetheart?” The new girl asks. She’s sexy. Hair pulled into a red bandana that matches her red bra pushing out of her black leather jacket. Her makeup is thick and very heavy, I bet if I licked my thumb and wiped it along her cheek I would see every flaw this shallow girl has.
“No, I know exactly where I am, thanks,” I sneer, making sure she can hear me above the music.
“Excuse me, bitch?” Dolly tilts her head to the side. “You don’t mouth to Gia and get away with it,” she laughs.
“Move,” I raise a brow, daring them to try and play with me. Gia reaches out in a striking manner and I grab her wrist and spin it behind her back as if I was arresting her.
She screams, and Dolly starts pulling my hair with her fake ass nails. Using my free elbow, I crack her in the face, making her fall to the ground.
Leaning in, I nip at Gia’s ear. “I’m one bitch you won’t be playing with, babe. Stay out of my way, or I’ll shove my gun so far up your ass you’ll moan my name. Got it?”
She doesn’t respond, she just squeals, trying to stomp my foot with her skanky heel.
The music stops, and the crowd is pushed apart. Looking above Gia, I come face to face with Felix. His cold eyes looking almost amused at the altercation taking place. Crossing his arms, his head tilts back, his jaw ticking as he takes in the sight before him.
“Let her go,” he demands, the sound of his voice raspy. Shoving Gia’s arm one more time for good measure I let her go.
She stumbles, tears in her eyes as she looks at me with a look that could kill.
“Did you see that? Did you see what she just did?” she whines to Felix.
“Isn’t she a cop?” A voice from the crowd states, getting everyone riled up.
“Why are you here?” Felix asks.
“I have some information you want,” I inform him. He scoffs, looking around the room like I’m insignificant. My heart pounds a little harder, the urge to go ape shit on everyone strong.
“It involves this morning’s shooting, but obviously you don’t care. So I’ll just wait for the president of the club,” I sass, turning where I stand. Before I make a step forward, I’m whipped around, a tight grip snakes around my throat and I’m slammed against the wall. Felix’s cold eyes slice through me, his body heat radiating off of him. The feel of his fingers wrapped around my throat with such ease but exuding power, I can’t help my nipples budding.
“Everyone get the fuck out!” he barks, and they obey immediately. Disappearing left and right.
Felix doesn’t take his eyes off of me though, his clutch on my throat tightening. I swallow, trying to keep my composure, keep my heart rate under control.
“Spill it,” he commands.
“First, I need something from you.” The words are hard to get out. A maniacal laugh spills from his mouth, his grip slightly letting up. Leaning forward his lips brush against my ear and my knees buckle from the contact.
“I think my blue bird is a dirty bird,” he whispers, and my eyes flutter with lust. “Am I right? You want in our pocket don’t you?” He looks me deep in the eyes. I’ve done a lot of shady shit in my career, but right now I’m signing my soul over to the devil knowing I may not get it back.
“Y-yes,” I mutter, my eyes stinging with the urge to cry. Feeling me cross the line of good to enemy.
“What do you want?” he asks with a softer tone.
“My father was killed on the job years ago, I think there is more to his case and I want to know what really happened.”
“What makes you think I can find that out?” He lets go of my neck, eyeing me from the side.
“I don’t, but I figured it was worth a try,” I shrug.
“Tell me what you have for me in return and I’ll think about it.” He runs his hands through his hair and I sigh un-intentionally. His eyes cut to mine, he heard it.
Looking down, I finger my bottom lip anxiously.
“There was a partial print on the shell casing from this morning. Apollo Bates, he’s with—”
“The Lost Bastards, I know,” he interrupts. “How did you get that information?” he asks with a tone of surprise.
Pursing my lips, I raise a brow.
“I can’t go telling my secrets, otherwise why would you need me?”
His eyes rake along my body unforgivingly, and my brows narrow in on him. “You should have kept your legs closed, because there are no guarantees you’ll get anything in return,” he insults, insinuating I slept with someone to get the information.
My mouth drops. “I didn’t fuck anyone!”
He scoffs. “I’m sure you didn’t.” His tone unbelieving.
He snaps his fingers and Machete steps from the darkness.
“Put her in one of the rooms,” Felix demands.
“What?” I ask with a tone of panic.
Felix looks over his shoulder. “I’m ordered to babysit your ass when you’re off duty, and considering you’re out of uniform I’m guessing you’re not working?”
“So what? You’re just going to lock me in a room?” I ask in disbelief.
He shrugs with an arrogant smirk. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Machete reaches for my arm and out of instinct I pull my gun from my waist and aim it at him.
“Don’t fucking move!” I threaten. He stops, looking over his shoulder at Felix for direction on his next move.
“Jesus Christ, you must have a death wish,” Felix growls. He stomps toward me and I swing my aim at him. My back begins to sweat, my breathing becoming heavier. Where the fuck is Jillian?
His eyes flash with an unknown look, his mouth pulling at the corner.
“You are a dirty bird,” he rasps, and my finger brushes the trigger.
“Tell me we have a deal and let me walk out of here and nobody has to get hurt,” I state with an unknown confidence. My hand aches to tremble, my heart slamming in my chest like a racehorse.
They both laugh, and Felix whips out with lightning fast reflexes and grabs my gun from my hands. My finger pulls the trigger at the last second, and a bullet lodges into the floor right next to Machete’s foot.
“Jesus Christ!” Machete jumps back, and Felix glares at me. That look of humor gone now that he knows I would shoot him.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” A familiar voice echoes through the room. Looking over Felix’s shoulder Zeek stands tall and shirtless. His jeans slung low on his hips, and stance wide.
His eyes fall on me and his right bicep ticks.
“Oh good, you’re here.” He sounds unamused.
“Not for long. I came and said what I needed to say, and now I’m leaving.” I lift my chin, my voice steady and strong.
Zeek shakes his head, rubbing his chin as he looks around. People stand in the corners, and outside their rooms as they watch the altercation.
“If you’re here it’s because you mean something to the Sin City Outlaws and I want to keep you safe as we get our shit figured out. I don’t expect things to go south but I won’t have anyone hurt on my watch. Everyone that is in this club is your friend and family no matter if they are a dirty cop, or from a different club. You treat everyone with respect or you answer to me. You have a problem with that, get the fuck out while you have the chance!” I sneer at his dirty cop comment. People from around the club eye, and nod in agreement.
But me, I start toward the door.
“You don’t have a choice sadly.” Zeek pins me where I stand. “You were seen with Jillian, so you’ll be a target. I don’t need someone trying to gain leverage over me because of you. Therefore, you’ll be staying here when you’re not working. You best make arrangements,” Zeek demands.
My mouth pops open to protest, but before I can get a word in edgewise, Felix grabs ahold of me and throws me over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” I yell, slapping his hard back over and over. Trying to kick him the balls, anything to defend myself. I might as well be hitting a wall because it does nothing to stop Felix.
He marches me down a hallway, kicks a door open and steps into a pitch-dark room. The smell of gym socks, and dirty crotch strong. He flips the light on and a disheveled bed comes into view just before he tosses me on it.
“Where are we?” I ask nervously.
“Stay in here,” he points at me. I stand, anger pounding in my temples.
“I can’t stay here. I need to go home, my mother needs me!” I grit through clenched teeth.
“Your mom will be taken care of. I have orders to keep you safe, and that’s what I’m doing.” He slams the door shut, and I sit there shocked.
Does he really expect me to just sit here? Getting up I go and open the door, and Machete is standing there with his arms crossed looking at me with a murderous stare.
“Don’t make this hard, babe,” Machete begs. His hand slowly falling to his gun on his hip.
Growling with frustration, I turn around and slam the door shut. Remembering I have my phone I dig in my pocket and call my neighbor. Someone has to keep an eye on my stepmom.
“Hello?”
“Hey June, I’m out for… work,” I lie on my toes. “Do you think you can keep an eye on my mother?”
“Sure thing, I’ll bring some cards over,” she informs sweetly.
Before I thank her, the door is slammed open and the phone is jerked from my grip by Felix.
“What are you doing?” I scream, standing ready to beat his ass.
“What do you not get about we are on lockdown, and your ass is mine for the time being?”
My face stoic, I can’t help my panties dampening from him claiming me like a madman.
His head tilts to the side, a look of desire crossing his face. My cheeks burn with embarrassment as I look away.
He tucks a finger under my chin, making me look him in the eye. His body so close I can’t help but rest my hands on his chest. It’s so warm, so hard. My nails dig into his shirt, my pussy clenching with need.
“I know that look,” he states huskily. “I think dirty cop wants me, don’t you?” he asks arrogantly. Quickly I snap my hands from his chest, and try and take a step back but my legs hit the bed.
“Is that it? Do you want to straddle my lap while I pump my dick into that little pussy?”
My head whips up, my breath gone. My words stolen by this man with no regard for the law or manners for that matter. His harsh words sweeping in-between my lips and stealing my breath away like the outlaw that he is.
He leans in and a soft moan spills from my lips desperately wanting him to take me on this bed.
“Too bad I don’t fuck cops,” he jeers, taking me from my lust filled state. I shove him, needing him away from me so I can think clearly.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I seethe. Angry with myself, pissed that I am getting lost in the broken beauty of this man. I’ve let my guard down and now look where I am.
“What is going on in here?” The familiar voice of Jillian echoes down the hall. She steps into the room wearing a black robe, her hair wet and eyes wide. She cuts Felix a look that speaks volumes.
“He’s locking me in here!” I inform her.
“I asked you to look after her, not keep her prisoner!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have missed that in the handbook of protecting a fucking cop!” he smarts.
Rolling her eyes, she pushes Felix out of the room and slams the door shut.
“I can’t stay here Jillian. I have a job, I have my mother, a dog for Christ’s sake!” I feel the urge to cry but resist.
She grabs my hand and gives it a tight squeeze. “I will make sure they are all taken care of, Zeek will. I just, I need you to try and let them do what they need to do. Trust me, you don’t know what lays in the underbelly of Vegas, and from what I’ve overheard Zeek and the men saying… we are the target for every criminal in the three-state area. They’re refusing the mafia’s protection I think.”
My eyes widen with this news, but with Zeek’s Uncle Frank dead, and his right-hand man, Cross disappearing without a trace, it doesn’t surprise me. Every club and gang around will want to take the Outlaws out and take their turf.
Looking at Jillian I want to slap her for putting me in this mess, but at the same time, she really is trying to keep me safe.
Guilt flares in my chest that I am crossing the enemy line and I have to look away from Jillian. I swallow that shit down and lift my chin confidently. Nothing is getting in my way of me and my family, especially my fucking conscious. I need to know what happened to my dad, and I will.
“I’ll try and play nice,” I whisper. And by ‘try’ I mean I’ll try and not shoot Felix in the dick.
Felix
I rub at my chin, eyeing the door that contains a fucking cop in my club. I cannot believe Zeek put me on this shit. Zeek is obviously trying to put our club on a different path than what his old man had us on, and I’m trying to see it. I’m trying to trust him and know that our brotherhood can withstand the repercussions that may fall in its wake getting to that path Zeek is looking for. But even with me having Zeek’s back, keeping Alessandra safe is going to be nearly impossible around here. Jillian might be safe from people trying to kill her, but that’s because she is Zeek’s ol’ lady. Alessandra isn’t owned by anyone. She’s fair game and is playing with wolves being here unclaimed. Zeek’s order to leave her alone, be damned.
I’m completely shocked she wants in our pocket. The balls on her are bigger than some of our own members and that draws me to her. She’s not weak, and the outlaw in me wants to make her weak. I want to break her, make her mine.
Growling I slam my hand into the wall, making Machete eye me warily.
I’m fucking losing my mind.
Jillian steps out of the room pulling her robe tighter, her eyes glaring at me like I’m the asshole.
“She tried to shoot me,” I inform her, and Jillian rolls her eyes.
“She’s a handful, but you have two hands. You’ll live…maybe.” She winks, before entering her and Zeek’s room.
“Bitch,” I mutter, flexing my fists.
Zeek strides out of the room with a beer in his hand and glances at Alessandra’s door.
“So I know you didn’t bring her here, why’d she show up?” he asks.
“She’s a dirty little bird,” I smile wolfishly, and Zeek raises his brows in curiosity. “Call the boys, it’s time to retaliate,” I pull my bandana from my back pocket and wrap it around my forehead. Needing to take this aggression out on someone for I fear if I don’t, a pretty little deputy is going to be taking the wrath of this outlaw.
Alessandra
Sitting back on the bed I glance around the room. It’s not clean and is basic. Bed, dresser, chair, pornographic posters. Glancing at the door I think about sneaking out, about going home to my comfortable bed, but I don’t. Something deep inside me tells me to actually listen to what I’m told for once. Sighing deeply, I nose around the room. Opening the old dresser drawer, I find folded shirts, jeans, and spare bullets. I close it, and head into the adjacent bathroom.
It smells of grease and aftershave.
Running my hand over the fake marble counter I reach for the toothbrush. Eyeing it, I wonder if it’s Felix’s. If I knew it was, I’d scrub the toilet with it, but because I don’t, I put it back in its place.
Feeling exhausted I go back into the room and open the closet, finding a bunch of shirts with the club’s logo on it. I grab one and let the hanger drop to the floor.
I pull my shirt off, and then my bra before sliding the worn fabric over my head. That’s when I notice the sleeves have been ripped off and I have major side-boob going on.
I shrug. Oh well. At least it’s comfortable.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I kick off my shoes and shimmy out of them. My knife falls to the floor catching my attention. I’m sleeping with this knife like a fucking teddy bear tonight.
Turning the light off, I head to the bed and nestle under the worn sheets. They smell of a man, spicy and clean. My thighs clench together in an attempt to smother the ache smoldering between them. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten laid, and my body has a mind of its own.
Clutching the knife, I close my eyes, my heart beating heavy. How the hell I’m supposed to sleep in a place full of murderers, drug dealers, and possible rapists is a joke.
I could kill Jillian for doing this to me. Then again it is getting me closer to the Outlaws.
Felix
“The Lost Bastards?” Machete asks surprised after I tell the patched in members the information Alessandra gave me.
“That’s what she said,” I clarify. The Lost Bastards are a small little bitch club.
“Tomorrow, we retaliate. Make a statement to the surrounding clubs that we are not fucking going anywhere, and we are not taking this shit!” Zeek sneers, his face turning red with the disrespect.
“You,” he points at me. “Alessandra is your responsibility, so find out what you can about her pops. Surely someone in our pocket can lead us to something,” Zeek orders.
Leaning back in my chair, a cigarette hanging from my mouth, I nod in acceptance.
Looks like I’ve claimed this bitch without my consent. She’s going to hate me until it burns, and then thirst for me until she realizes she starving.
I’m going to enjoy this.
“I don’t mind the parties at night, but if you wake up my kids I’m going to put a lug in one of your fucking legs!” He eyes the table. “Also, if you see any of the bitches giving my ol’ lady a hard time you better stop that shit in a hurry. I told them if they even looked in her direction they were banned. She is the club’s queen now, and everyone better just fucking accept that.”
Everyone gives a silent nod, including me.
Zeek slams the gavel down, declaring the meeting over and snapping me back to my memory.
“Oh, and unless you’re sleeping in one of the chairs, you’ll have to share a room with Alessandra, Felix,” Zeek informs last minute, and the rest of the men laugh at my expense as they exit the chapel. I’m not laughing. Not at fucking all.
“I’ll take the goddamn chair,” I grit.
***
Not being able to sleep, I sit up. A crick in my neck throbbing down my back. My bare back sweaty and sticking to the leather. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands through my long hair exhausted.
“You okay, baby?” A voice coos from the corner. Glancing up I notice Gia sitting in an adjacent chair with a flannel blanket covering her. The room smells like stale cigarettes and cheap perfume, it’s giving me a damn headache.
“Can’t sleep,” I mutter.
She tosses the blanket off her lap and slides to her knees, sauntering over with hooded eyes. A black Harley shirt hanging off one shoulder, and her hair tossed in a hot mess of a ponytail.
Rubbing her hands up and down my legs she runs her tongue along her bottom lip sexually.
“Want me to help you with that?” she asks huskily, lust thick in her eyes.
Leaning back in the chair, I raise a challenging brow. Why not?
Unzipping my jeans, she shoves her hand into my pants and pulls out my cock. Using both hands, she pumps it from the base to tip. Flicking the tip with her tongue, my cock pulses with the temptation. She giggles and runs her tongue along the shaft and my balls squeeze as I grow in her hands. Done with the seductive, flirty act. I grip her by her hair and shove her tonsils first onto my cock. She gags, but gets the point, and starts sucking and slurping. Spit slips down onto my balls as she sucks me like a vise. Leaning my head back on the chair I close my eyes and sigh through gritted teeth. My hand still in her hair I guide her up and down, her hot mouth licks and sucks me into bliss.
Her tits bounce and hit against my knees with every bob, her nipples skipping across them. Using my free hand, I cup her neck, the flesh not as silky as I would like. It’s more leathery and worn. Much like the rest of her body.
Blue Bird’s strong eyes flash behind my closed eyes from when I had my hand around her throat, ready to squeeze the life out of her.
I shake my head, trying to void her fucking face in this moment. It’s no use. My throat bobs, my body tensing as I think about her.
That mouth Blue Bird possesses, that temper, that fucking body. I blow my load into the back of Gia’s throat without warning. My dick pulsing with pleasure, my balls squeezing so hard it hurts. Gia chokes, her head flying off my cock.
Opening my eyes, I find her on her hands and knees trying to catch her breath as my cum drips from her lips.
Rage riddles up my spine as I acknowledge I just came to a fucking cop - of all bitches.
Standing I shove my junk back in my pants and strut to my room.
“Where are you going?” Gia asks with a hoarse voice.
I don’t answer her because I’m not entirely sure what the fuck I’m doing and it’s none of her fucking business.
Opening the door to my room, I close it quietly. My back to the door, I slide my ass to the floor, elbows to my knees as I watch the woman I just blew my load to sleeping in my bed.
She has one of my shirts on, her brown hair all over my pillow as she sleeps peacefully. There’s more to this woman than just a cop, I can tell when I look deep in her eyes. The Devil is dancing in those angelic eyes. She’s full of temptation and charm and she knows it. I want to know her story, I need to know it. Because right now I’m a fucking hypocrite; busting Zeek’s balls for screwing a law enforcement, and I’m over here eye fucking her best friend.
I recognize sin when I look it in the eye. I’m drawn to it, and I’m drawn to Alessandra like a reaper is to an angel. I want to drag her into my world and tear her apart. I hate that I’m like that, but it’s what I was raised to do. Destroy, kill, and take no mercy. There is no light in my life, but looking at Alessandra I can see that may be the closest thing I’ll ever get to it.
Digging in my pocket, I pull out that joint I rolled earlier and light it. The green herb filling my lungs, and relaxing my racing thoughts instantly.
Alessandra’s foot slides up her leg, scratching her bare calf and my dick jumps to attention as if I didn’t just get sucked off moments ago. She’s awake. My eyes fall on a scar on her lower back, I can’t tell what is it. An X maybe.
“Where’d you get the scar?” I ask.
Her shoulders rise.
“First bike ride,” she mumbles sleepily. Narrowing my eyes, I find it hard to believe falling off a bike makes that kind of scar. It’s so exact and deep. It lures me into her world wanting to know more.
Pulling the blunt away from my mouth I eye the burning cherry, blowing smoke into the dark air.
“What’s your dad’s name? Give me details,” I question with a husky voice. Seconds pass before she rolls over and hits me with those beautiful lost eyes. Her nipples are hard, poking through my shirt. I’ve seen a lot of posers wear our gear before, but fuck if Alessandra doesn’t pull it off perfectly. Biting my lip, I have to restrain myself from thinking about her grinding on my lap wearing nothing but that shirt. Music from Machete’s room can be heard, “Tainted Love” by Marilyn Manson is not helping my sexual need right now.
“His name was Officer Brock Lucas, he was thirty-eight years old when he was killed on the job. They said he was shot before the suspect took his own life. His partner, Officer Kelly, lost it to PTSD and retired. I have no idea where he is, but he reached out recently giving me a dog in the blood line of the department.”
Taking another hit, I eye her through the smoke rolling from my blunt.
“And you think there’s more to his death why, princess?” I taunt. His demise seems legit to me. Why is she digging up old graves? Boredom? Is she trying to sue the department for money? Wouldn’t surprise me, by the looks of her she seems like an uppity bitch.
Her brows furrow, her lip curling with anger. Seems I struck a nerve. She tosses the blankets off her and slides off the mattress. Her long, tanned silky legs catch my attention first. I have a thing for a woman with long tanned legs, it’s what attracts me first. Black lace panties play peekaboo with my ripped up shirt and I have to contain the feral growl wanting to escape my mouth.
Taking me by surprise she straddles my lap, plucking the joint from my fingertips she wraps her plush pink lips around the end and inhales a breath so big the joint lights up the small space between us. Her eyes never leave mine, and my heart pounds in my chest. My hands having a mind of their own I can’t help but touch the sides of her thighs. God, they’re so fucking soft and smooth. She’s a vixen hiding behind a toxic badge. She exhales, the smoke dancing upward into the sky and painting the perfect picture, the perfect woman. Dark tangled hair, brown lost eyes, and she’s wearing nothing but my shirt as she straddles my lap in black lace panties. She’s the good girl gone bad. My kryptonite.
Her brown hair falls in her face, her lips parting as smoke rolls out of her mouth drifting around her like the devil just granted me a wish in return for my soul.
I grip her by the shirt, the sides of her tits showing from the sleeves being ripped off my shirt and pull her close. She’s temptation with a price, one I want so fucking badly. She seems unfazed by my aggressive pull as she places the blunt between my lips.
“You know nothing about me,” she replies smoothly before sliding off my lap. Making sure to rock against my length before breaking contact fully. “We had a deal, just fucking hold your end up, yeah?” she sasses before climbing back into my bed.
Holy fuck. Placing the blunt back between my lips I inhale a large breath. Watching the bitch that is wearing my shirt, and sleeping in my bed. Pretending to be the good guy when I know for a fact, she’s a badass bitch.
I’ve just met my match.