Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SANCTUARY

 

 

 

SARAH OSBORNE

 

 

 

THE FREAK CIRCLE PRESS

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sanctuary. © Sarah Osborne  2014

All rights reserved

 

Sarah Osborne has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this book under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks.

 

To the ladies of the Freak Circle.

As always, you make me smile when I feel like crying.

 

To Susan, for teaching me how Americans speak and general awesomeness.

 

Last but by no means least. To Oz and Jake, for not complaining about the lack of hot meals and for believing in me.

 

sanctuary

 

 

NOUN

A place of refuge or safety.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ONE

 

The room was silent, save for the ticking of the clock and the occasional snore from Blue, asleep in the corner. Emma rested her head against the windowpane and watched the raindrops as they meandered slowly down the glass.

Somewhere, far in the distance, the sound of a Harley permeated the quiet, and she smiled as the dog lifted his head and thumped the floor with his tail. There had been a time when he would have heard before her, but he was old now and his hearing wasn't what it used to be.

As the sound grew louder, he hauled himself to his feet and slowly walked to the door, his tail wagging, whining softly. Emma didn't move from the window seat. Even as the big black bike pulled up outside, she stayed where she was and watched as he killed the engine, removed his helmet and dismounted.

He looked exhausted and - she searched for the word - defeated. His limp, as he made his way to her front door, was as bad as she'd ever seen it, and she could see the pain etched across his face.

Emma stood and waited as he opened the door and rubbed Blue between the ears, then, unzipping his hoodie, let it, and his cut, slide from his shoulders and fall to the floor. The significance of that act wasn't lost on her, and wordlessly she moved to pick it up. “Leave it.” His voice was hoarse. “I'm gonna take a shower.”

“Okay. Are you hungry? I could.....”


No, I'm fine.” He was already heading for the bathroom. “I just wanna get cleaned up and get some sleep.”

As much as she would have liked to, Emma made no attempt to touch him and resisted the urge to follow him. “There are clean clothes in the closet. I'll get them for you.”

“I can get them.”


Okay. Deke.... Samson. Are you...”

He shook his head. “I'm tired, Emma.” His eyes met hers. “We'll talk in the morning.”

Blue returned to his bed and lay down with a huff. She waited until he'd left the room, then after hanging his cut on the hook behind the door and throwing the hoodie in the washing machine, resumed her place on the window seat and opened her book.

For over half an hour she stared sightlessly at the same sentence. Would they talk in the morning? She very much doubted it. Theirs was not a relationship based around talking. Truthfully she didn't know what it was based on. Or even if it was a relationship at all

It was five years since their first meeting. She had been waiting tables in a diner when he and his brothers had rolled into town. They hadn't talked then, either, but when she'd taken the order he'd looked up and, as his eyes met hers, smiled.

It shouldn't have been enough. And when he stayed behind after everyone had left, waiting for her to finish her shift, she should have told him that this wasn't how she was. That she didn't make a habit of taking strange bikers home. Something about him had stopped her. To this day, she had no idea what it was. Sure, he oozed masculinity, and even now when he fixed her with those hazel eyes and flashed her that grin, she'd feel a flutter in the pit of her belly. And the sex – oh god, the sex – was amazing of course, but it was more than that.

When, all those years ago, she’d watched him riding behind her in her rear view mirror, she'd known it was just a booty call... a hookup, nothing more. She hadn't even expected him to stay until the morning. He had, though. And the morning after that. He'd stayed for nearly a week before climbing on his bike and disappearing from her life.

Since then she had lost count of how many times he'd turned up on her doorstep. He never called first - he didn't even have her number, nor she his. Sometimes he would stay for only one night, but usually it was more, weeks sometimes. Part of her wanted to tell him that enough was enough. That she deserved better than to be just another of his many women. But Emma was no fool. His life was a million miles away from hers, and he would never give it up for her.

With a sigh she closed her book and headed for the bedroom, Blue following closely at her heels. Deke was already asleep, the single sheet pushed off and covering only his legs. Emma sat on the edge of the bed and gently touched an ugly bruise on his hip. He grunted and, rolling on to his side, reached out and pulled her to him.

This was why she never told him they were done. She could live without the long rides, or nights in front of the fire, smoking weed and drinking tequila, laughing so hard her body ached. She could even live without the feeling of him inside her. But this: lying with her head on his broad chest, his huge arms wrapped around her as she listened to the steady thump of his heart. This was her safe place. She could surrender herself to him completely, secure in the knowledge that he would take care of her. Emma closed her eyes and let sleep claim her. Maybe tomorrow they would talk, but most likely they wouldn't. He would, of course, fuck her stupid. She pressed herself a little closer to him and smiled. But whatever tomorrow brought, tonight she was in his arms. The only place she really wanted to be.

 

~ oOo ~

 

Samson opened his eyes and knew immediately that she wasn't there. He wasn't alone, though; the old hound was sprawled at his back, waiting for him to wake up. He rolled over and scratched the dog behind the ears. “You know you'll get shit for being up here, right?” The dog licked him on the nose. “An' you can quit that. Now, get off.” With a look of reproach, Blue slid off the bed and threw himself indignantly on the floor. Samson grinned and glanced at the clock on the small table next to the bed. He'd slept for twelve hours and while he felt refreshed physically, mentally he was as exhausted as ever.

He was going to have to move. He was hungry and he needed to piss. Shifting slightly, he did a quick inventory of his aches and pains and, deciding this was about as good as it got, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and headed for the bathroom.

The kitchen was empty - Emma would have gone to work hours ago - but there was a full pot of coffee and he knew there would be plenty of food in the fridge. He searched through the contents, finally settling on some stinky cheese with a hunk of bread she must've made the day before and sat down at her old farmhouse table to eat.

A tiny part of him was pissed at her leaving without waking him, and in the past the fact that he'd slept so deeply would have freaked him out. Usually he would be alert at the slightest sound. But here, and only here, with her wrapped in his arms, he slept like a dead man.

Blue rested his head on his lap. “Do I look like a sucker to you? You know the rules about begging at the table.” He broke off a small piece of the cheese. “Here, now fuck off.” The dog ignored him, and he guessed he must be a sucker after all.

He drained his mug and headed over to the sofa in the living room. It would be a while before Emma got back; he may as well make himself comfortable.

His cut was hanging on the hook behind the door. It looked like the blood and dirt from the day before had been wiped off, and a wave of guilt washed over him. He always tried to keep that part of his life away from her. He rarely wore it when he came here, and on the few times when leaving it at a clubhouse or with one of his brothers wasn't possible, he would wear his hoodie over it. He wasn't sure why that was so important to him... Showing colors while riding alone wasn't wise, of course, but it was more than that. Here in her home, he was Deke, not Samson.

She'd asked, many years ago, whether there were others like her. He hadn't lied; there were other women, not just the club girls who offered a ready supply of pussy, but women who he would call on whenever he felt so inclined. None were quite like Emma, though. He never stayed with those for days on end, and hers was the only place where he kept changes of clothes and a toothbrush.

Unlike his brothers, who had regular jobs, wives, kids.... a place to call their own, all Samson had was his bike, the road and the club. It was enough, but sometimes when he needed to escape all the crazy, he came here.

He knew she'd never be his old lady. That wasn't a life for her. She loved to ride with him and was under no illusion about the club and his role in it, but she was too much of a free spirit to tie herself down that way. And even if she was willing to give up her solitude, what would the club make of this weird, vegetarian, hippie chick who spent her days growing vegetables or painting, and in the evening would rather curl up with a book than party?

 

 

 

TWO

 

“Deke?”

He grunted and opened his eyes. “Hey, baby. Shit, I can't believe I fell asleep again. Reckon I must be getting old.”

Emma frowned and sat down next to him. “I'm not sure about that, but you're pretty beat up. I suppose I'd be wasting my time if I asked if you've seen a doctor.”


No need. It's just a few bruises. Ain't nothing to get bent outta shape over.” He reached out and wrapped one of her curls around his finger. “Don't worry, I ain't too beat up to fuck you.”

She might have believed him, were it not for the grunt of pain as he pulled her closer. “Deke....”

“Shut up.”

The voice that was telling her to push him away - that this time they really had to talk - fell silent. His chest beneath her hands was hard, and she could feel the heat of his body under his tee shirt. And to talk would mean that his mouth would no longer be on hers.... God, she'd missed that so much. As his hand pushed its way inside her blouse, her body responded immediately to his touch, and all possibility of rational thought disappeared. Nothing mattered right now. Only his mouth on hers and his rough hands on her smooth body. Sensation after sensation washed over her, blocking out the world. The heat of his body next to hers, the sound of her breathing and the low rumble in his throat as he pulled away, ripped her blouse open and pushed her back onto the sofa. His long hair brushing against her tits as he leaned over her and began to bite her neck. Every feeling, every taste, smell, sound intensified, until there was nothing but him. He was on her, inside her, he was everywhere and he was everything. She felt her body arch as her orgasm washed over her and she sank her teeth into his neck until he too came with a roar and collapsed, gasping, onto her chest.

Deke pushed himself off her, and pulling off the condom she couldn't remember being put on, zipped up his jeans and headed for the kitchen. Emma sat up and watched as he limped across the room, stopping to rest momentarily in the doorway with one hand on the wall. “Deke?”


I told you, I'm okay.”


No. No you're not.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “What happened?”


Just a disagreement that got outta hand. Couple o' days I'll be good as new.”

Usually she would have dropped the subject, but this time was different. She couldn't put her finger on it. It certainly wasn't the first time he'd come to her when he was hurt and needed to rest up awhile. All she knew was that something bad had happened. She followed him into the kitchen and touched his arm. “I'm not stupid, Deke. You're hurting.”

“Just leave it, Emma.” He pulled his arm away. “You know how it is.”


I know that you don't make a habit of drinking half a bottle of Jack before five, and I know that you would never leave your cut lying on the floor covered in blood. Please, talk to me.”


I fucked up. I made the wrong call, and because of that.....” He sank onto the chair and, grabbing the bottle, took a huge slug. “He was just a kid, not even a prospect. He shouldn't have been there. I should've stopped him. I should've....” He closed his eyes. “It should've been me.”

Emma sat next to him and took his hand. “I'm so sorry.”

“No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I got no right bring this shit to your door.” He looked up and touched her cheek. “You don't need someone like me in your life.”


And you don't get to decide what it is I need.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Now why don't we go to the bedroom and you let me have a look at you.”

He shook his head. “It's just a few bruises, maybe a busted rib.” Despite his protestations, he allowed her to lead him into the bedroom and pulled off his tee shirt and jeans.

“Jesus!” A mass of bruises spread across his back and down the back of his thighs. “How the hell did you manage to ride?”


It looks worse than it is.” He winced as she ran her finger down his ribs, and scowled at the expression on her face. “Okay, it hurts like a motherfucker, but I'll mend.”

She kissed him and pushed him down on the bed. “I have a comfrey salve that should help to take down some of the bruising.

He grinned. “Witch.”


Asshole. Have you taken anything for the pain?”


Oxy and bourbon, works a charm.” He ran his hand down her thigh. “An' don't look at me like that. I'm a big boy, I know what I'm doing.”             


I know. I'm still going to worry though.”


I guessed as much.” He lay on his belly and closed his eyes. “Hey, bring that bottle with you when you come back.”

 

~ oOo ~

 

She didn't bring the bottle, but she did change out of her work clothes into her usual hippie gear. Deke was no fashion expert, and he had no idea how to describe her style, or even if she had one. But if he were pushed, he'd say it was 'colorful.' He turned his head slightly in an attempt to catch a glimpse of her long, tanned legs as she gently rubbed the salve into his back. “I'm getting hard.”

She smiled but said nothing as her fingertips ran lightly across his shoulders. Despite her crazy mismatched clothes, her wild, multicolored curls and the fact that her every movement was accompanied by the jangling of her bracelets, she was the most serene woman he'd ever known. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy and fought the urge to sleep. “That feels real nice, baby.”

“Sure it does. That's why you flinch at every other touch.”


Well the parts that don't hurt like a son of a bitch feel nice. You got a soft touch.”


Goof. So…” She moved down to the backs of his thighs. “You going to tell me what happened? It's pretty obvious you got jumped.”


Truthfully, I don't know. It was supposed to be a straightforward security job. A warehouse had been busted into a couple of times. Guy who owns it is a friend and came to the club for help. I thought it would be easy money. Figured that no one would try to break in if the place was guarded.” He swallowed. “I heard a noise, told Mikey to stay back, but he must've followed me. Fuckers hit me from behind and the kid jumped straight in. One of them must've had a knife cuz when I came around, the kid was dying an' they were in the wind. I should've never let him come along.” He closed his eyes. “I couldn't stop the bleeding. He was dead before the ambulance got there.” Her fingers stilled and he continued. “I'd never even spoken to him till that night, but I'd seen him hanging around before and – I dunno – saw something in him, I guess. He loved the club an' wanted to be part of it. I thought I was giving the poor kid a break, an' he ended up dying in the arms of a stranger, crying for his mom.”


This wasn't your fault, Deke.” She put the lid back onto the jar and kissed his temple. “And he didn't die alone. Go to sleep, your body needs to heal.”


Will you stay with me?”

She lay down next to him. “Of course.”

 

~ oOo ~

 

The next few days were spent in a daze of JD, Oxy and weed. Emma quietly took care of him, not pushing him to talk, just watching over him while he healed physically and emotionally, until finally on the fourth day, he woke up and felt ready to face the world again.

She was in the kitchen kneading dough. He stalked across the room and, with his hands on her hips, kissed her neck. “Was thinking, maybe we could take a ride today.”


That would be great.” She leaned back against him. “I'll just finish this and feed the chickens then I'm all yours.”

He grabbed the bucket by the back door. “I'll see to the girls, you finish beating the crap outta that, then go and put something more suitable on.” He looked over to Blue. “You coming or what?” The dog followed him outside, clearly delighted that finally he was getting some attention.

Deke liked chickens. Until he met Emma, he'd never thought of them as more than something to eat, but there was something about watching them scratching around their pen, clucking away to themselves, that always made him smile. He rattled the bucket and grinned as they came running towards him. “Now ladies, no squabbling. There's plenty to go around.” He tipped the scraps onto the ground, picked up the water bowl, and, with the dog at his heels, wandered over to the tap to refill it.

The plot of land that Emma's little house stood on wasn't big, but she'd utilized all the available space, and it gave her a ready supply of fruit and vegetables. Although he'd never admit it to his brothers, this small space, with nothing but the sound of birdsong and the buzzing of bees to break the silence, was one of his favorite places to be.

Emma smiled as he walked back into the kitchen, put the eggs on the counter and washed his hands. “So, did I imagine seeing you talk to the girls?”


Just laying down the law. Letting them know who's boss.” He poured himself a coffee and cut a huge slice of carrot cake, which he proceeded to share with the dog.


Hey! Stop feeding him.”


I wasn't.” He shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “It was only a crumb.”

Wiping her hands, she turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Underneath that big tough exterior you really are all squishy.”

“I am not squishy. I'm a big tough motherfucker, and don't you forget it.” He pulled her closer and kissed her gently. “Now go and get changed.”


On it, boss.”

 

It was rare for Samson to have anyone ride bitch, and if he was honest, he didn't like it much. His days of using his bike as a means of getting laid were long behind him, and he hated being responsible for another person when he rode. Emma was the one exception to this rule, although it had taken him a while to let her on his bike and he'd only agreed on the condition that she always wore a leather jacket and full face helmet.

Now, though, he loved the feeling of her riding behind him. He grinned as they roared along the empty roads through the trees and felt her tap his shoulder. Nodding he pulled off the road and stopped in a secluded picnic area.

Before he'd even killed the engine, she was off the bike and removing her helmet, a huge grin on her face. “Dirty bitch. Now get over here.” He hung his helmet on the handle bars and, pulling her closer, unzipped her jacket.

This was why he made an exception for her. Sitting astride his bike with his woman facing him, her legs wrapped around his waist and her perfect tits pressed against his chest, his cock buried deep in her beautiful pussy. Shit, it didn't get better than that. “Emma. Fuck.... Oh shit....” He came hard and fast, almost unseating her. “Oh shit, baby girl. Tell me again why I haven't made you my ol' lady.”

 

~ oOo ~

 

Emma leaned against him and closed her eyes as they both caught their breath. He would be leaving again soon... She tried to push the thought away, not wanting to focus on that. Here and now was all that mattered. This beautiful moment shared with a beautiful man. “You only have to ask.”

He pushed her away slightly and looked deep into her eyes. “That what you want? You'd really give up your life here to be with me?”

She kissed him and laughed. “I think it's more about what you'd give up for me. I can do what I do anywhere, although I'm sure I'd be a lousy old lady. But we both know that unless you're prepared to give up the road and settle in one place, it isn't going to happen.” She kissed him again and ran her fingers through his hair. “Relax, big guy. We're fine as we are.”

“I hope so, baby girl. It would kinda suck if you weren't around.” He started to button up her shirt. “I know I'm a selfish fucker, but no one fixes me up like you.”


So that's the only reason you come? To get fixed up?” She stuck out her bottom lip. “I thought it was the hot sex.”


Weeeell, the sex is quite good, I suppose. And your cakes ain't bad either.”

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