Read Wed to the Bad Boy Online

Authors: Kaylee Song

Wed to the Bad Boy (33 page)

BOOK: Wed to the Bad Boy
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He spit out a tooth.

“You stupid motherfuck—” He didn’t get through the word.  Bones was there with another hit.

And then he held up the knife to his throat.

“You are going to tell us everything we want to know, or we are going to drain you right here and let the dogs eat what’s left of you.  You got that?” There was something in Bones’ eyes, something wild.  Like he really meant it.  Hell, I meant it.

“I don’t know anything.  Just that we were to come and send a message.  You don’t fuck with our suppliers, we don’t fuck with you.” The kid spit out a tooth and grinned, a small trickle of laughter turning into an eruption.

“You’re the ones who started this war,” I growled, but Bones held me up.

“You have no suppliers.  You have no life.  You have nothing.  I’m going to slit your throat like you’re a pig brought to the slaughter.” Bones was in a rage, his eyes wild and his body shaking.

I pulled him away.  “Fuck are you doin’, man?”

“Teaching his ass a lesson.”

“We need him to go back to his people.” I considered my next words carefully.  “Alive and beaten.  Need him to take a message back to his rat’s nest.”

“You dumbasses have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.  You’ve started a war that begins with the kill you made, and ends with your total destruction,” I said just as Bones started carving.  Right into the fucker’s face.

He was screaming so loud, so hard, and for nothing.  When Bones was done with him he’d passed out from the pain.  But I didn’t blink.  He’d live.  Scarred and ugly as hell, but he’d live.

“Drop him off out on the edge of their shitty patch of territory,” I ordered.

Bones grinned.  He was like a madman.  The prez who reveled in blood and destruction.  Who wanted to hurt his victims himself.

It was unnerving to most, but I knew him.  I knew what he was about.

F&S MC
was clearly carved into his flesh.  There would be no mistaking it.  It was a message from us.

One that said, “Bring it the fuck on.”

We were done playing games.  Things had escalated, and the war was about to begin.

Layla

I sat on the couch and looked at my phone.  I’d texted Cullen at least four hours ago, and still nothing.  Not one damn word to let me know what was going on.  I cursed at the phone and threw it across the room, watching it crash and then got up and grabbed it, pulling it back into my lap again.  This shit was the life of any woman in the MC.

This shit was exactly why I wanted nothing to do with the MC.  Nothing to do with him.  It was volatile and it was dangerous and there was nothing I could do to control any of it.  For all I knew, a second wave of those people had come back and finished them all off.

I wanted to dial my aunt, wanted to call anyone and ask them exactly what was going on, but I knew what I would get back if I did.  A lot of vague answers, and no explanations.  What was worse, I would risk pissing Cullen off.

The only thing I could do was wait.  Wait for him to get home and tell me whatever it was he wanted to tell me.

It was the life my mom had led.  The one that had driven her crazy.  And now it was mine.

But I had no out.  Nothing.  I couldn’t leave.  I was trapped.  I wouldn’t resort to drugs like she did.  That was no escape.

What was even more terrifying was that all I wanted was to hold him.  Touch him.  Feel his skin against mine and hear him tell me everything was going to be okay.

The low rumble of his bike let me know he was home, and I immediately perked up and looked out the window.  No helmet.

Shit, he looked pissed as hell.  And what was that all over him?

Fuck.

Blood.

I’d never actually seen any of this shit go down before.  Sure, my dad must’ve been involved in spats like this, but I was too young, and my mother—then my brother—would usher me up to my room.  Hide me up there until everyone was all cleaned up and it had all gone away.

I lived the life in silence and secrecy, never understanding the real cost of MC life.  Never seeing it firsthand.

Now I had.

“What happened?” I asked as I rushed toward him.  He didn’t push me back.  Instead he pulled me into him, his bloodstained clothing already dry.

None of it his.  I was thankful for that, at least, but I checked him over just the same.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said in such a way that I knew I shouldn’t press him for an answer.  So I nodded and then pulled him toward the bathroom.

“You need to get cleaned up.” My brain went into overdrive as I detached my horror from the reality.  Clean him.  Take care of him.  Make it better.  Those were all things I could do.

“Not without you.” He pulled me into it and turned on the shower, stripping off his clothing.

“What do you want me to do with those?”

“Burn them.” He didn’t smile.  That was no joke, and I was sure that if I didn’t do what he asked, there would be consequences later.  Or that there would be consequences, either way.

He stepped into the shower and then looked at me.  “Strip, or I’ll pull you in here with all of your clothes on.”

I looked at him.  He’d said
one time.  One time
was never going to be enough for me, and apparently not for him, either, but I didn’t question it.  I just took off piece after piece of clothing, all the while looking into his eyes.

He was still coated in blood, but it was running off of him in streams as the water streamed down his body.  I stepped into the shower, bare before him.  I grabbed handfuls of water and used it to wash him off, watching the blood cascade down his body.

It was dirty, it was bloody, but it was so nice to be in there with him.  Touching him.  Feeling him.  Each moment compounded by our touch.

It wasn’t romantic, but it was intimate, and I had a feeling I was seeing a part of him that he never showed anyone else.  He looked… tired.  Worn.  Like he was hanging on by a thread.

Slowly, so slowly, I soaped up my hands and used them to wash him, the last little bit of that dark red blood streaming off him and down the drain.

So I pulled him into me and I held him close, my face pressed up against his now-clean chest as he wrapped his arms around my body.

Neither one of us said anything.  We let the water hit our bodies and wash over us.  It was like time stopped while he stood there, holding on tight to me, at least momentarily.  Until he looked into my eyes and pushed my hair back away from my face.

He bent down and kissed me like he could kiss away all the pain, all the fear, all the hard emotions boiling below the surface.  We didn’t say anything.  We didn’t need to. 

He was silent, he was warm, and he wanted me.  I could tell by the way his cock felt against my belly, hard and ready for me.

Cullen was a strong man.  He picked me up in one swift movement and leveraged me up against that simple shower wall, pressing me into it as he slid his cock into me.  It was hot and throbbing and it was perfect for me.  Filling me up like I needed.

I clung to his neck as he thrust into me, over and over again.  The water showered down on us while he pressed into me, reminding me of where we were and why we were there.

It was a somber kind of fuck, the kind you needed once in a while, the kind that reminded you that you were alive.

And he was fucking me.  Not a club whore, not any of his old girlfriends.  Me.

I was the one he ran to when shit got rough.

I kissed him deeply as he finished with a grunt.  It wasn’t romantic, but it was consoling, and it was something that the both of us needed.

So when he carried me out of the shower and into the bedroom I didn’t question it.

I just let him hold me under the covers while the two of us dried off.

After a while the sun flitted down under the horizon and I turned and looked at him.  Looked into those sad, green eyes.

“What now?” I asked, biting my lip as I tried not to flinch.  Tried not to look away.  It was so intense, looking at him.  He was so intense.

“I don’t know.”

It was the first time I’d ever heard anyone in the club utter those words, and to be honest, it absolutely terrified me.  The one thing those men always had was a plan.

“I just know that for the first time in my life, I have something going for me.  Something good.  And I am not going to let it fall away.  I want you, Layla.  And I don’t care if the timing is wrong.  We don’t always get a lot of time.  We have to make the best of it the only way we can.”

He kissed me again, his arms firm around me while I felt him rising against my flesh.

This time, I had a feeling it was going to be a lot more fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

Cullen

My bike rumbled with Layla behind me, clinging on to me for dear life.  We were almost there, but it had been hours on the bike.

I’d offered to let her ride in a cage, Sean’s or mine, whichever she wanted.  Hell, I’d offered to let her ride his bike, but all she wanted to do was hold on to me.

And I wasn’t going to say no to that.  I wanted her close to me.  I wanted her around me all the time.  And I wanted to be sure I could keep an eye on her.

It was a weakness and I knew it, but I wasn’t going to do anything to stop it.  I was helpless where Layla was concerned.  She was my first and last thought, and she was everything to me.  I didn’t want her involved in this life—the one she’d run away from, once upon a time.  The further away from it I could keep her, the better.  And that meant staying away from her.

It took me a long time to realize how much she meant to me, but now that I had her, I wasn’t going to let her go.  I could feel her face against my back, and a part of me hoped she could feel my heartbeat.  Hear the way it raced when she was touching me.

It was silly, small, insignificant.  But I wanted it.  Wanted her to know the way she made me feel.

I was a day late to the lodge, and riding in a small skeleton crew were me, Mick, Thrash, and a couple of prospects whose names escaped me.

I couldn’t remember their damn names to save my life.  And I didn’t really care.

We tore down that last road to the highway retreat.  I’d been there once before, but it was years ago.  Sean and I had torn up the place, along with a bunch of young bucks in the other two allied MCs.

Those days had been easier, lighter.  That was back when we held power of the region.  Since then we’d dwindled to next to nothing, a smaller club even smaller and less powerful than ever before.

Snake’s group was the powerful one now.  Maybe it always had been, but my perspective had changed over the years.

We hadn’t been invited back in since I was a prospect.  This was the first time in half a decade that they’d asked us to attend.

We were to go with a full accompaniment, but after what had happened back at the shop, Bones felt it was necessary to leave some behind to watch over it, and I agreed.  We were vulnerable now.  The small fire had been put out with very little damage done, but it had still been done.  And we had to watch our backs as much as possible, even if that meant leaving our prez at home to deal with the mess back there.

That meant that I was in charge, and these men, the ones around me, were under my direct orders.  I assumed responsibility, which meant I was going to be the one to blame if anything went wrong tonight.

I was the one whose neck was on the line, and it seemed like everyone preferred it that way.

Everyone but me.

The lodge was in sight now.  I pulled up to it, parking my bike in the long row with the others, making sure there was enough space, but that it was snug.  There was no mistaking what this was.

A true biker bar.

“How you feeling, babe?” I asked my woman, whispering it into her ear.

“Honestly? My ass is numb.  Damn.” Always the lady.

I chuckled as the other guys got off their bikes and sized us up.  Only one of the prospects, Derek, had brought a woman with him, but there would be plenty of club women there for guys looking for a lay.

“Damn, this ride gets rougher every time I do it,” Layla’s uncle complained as he hopped off his old man bike, the trike made for men of his size and stature.  He could still ride, but the COPD made these long trips take quite a toll, and I could see the way it wore on him.

Layla could see it too, her brow furled in concern, but she knew the code.  You couldn’t point out a man’s weakness, and even though they may be aging, a veteran biker still deserved the respect afforded to him by his station.

“You just need a nice cold beer, man,” I said as I waited for my crew.  It was a small group, but we were formidable, and we were not going to let the challenge facing us stop us.

“Rage, you made it,” Snake said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into a one-armed hug.  “Brought the old-timer, I see.  We’ll have a lot of catching up to do, Slash.” That was Mick’s nickname, the one that everyone used, but I still thought of him as Uncle Mick.  He wasn’t my uncle, he was Sean’s, but he’d chased us around the neighborhood, making sure we kept in line.

And it was how Layla thought of him, too.

“Yeah, brought Thrash, too.” Thrash stood tall as he shook the guy’s hand.

“Damn, heard about you.  You took on six guys at once, they say.  Knocked them all out?”

“Nah, man.  It wasn’t like that.  There were eight, and I only put two in the hospital after that the rest pussied out.”

The two of them chuckled and I knew they were going to get along just fine, so I pulled Layla into me.

“And this?”

“Lala.  My niece.  And Rage’s ol’ lady.”

“Heard about Beast.  Man, I am sorry.  Losing a brother is never easy.” Snake was probably the most sincere I’d ever seen him, the anger of it held at bay in his eyes.  “We are workin’ them over real good.  Won’t be much left of ‘em when we are all done with them.”

Snake turned and regarded my girl.  “Heard you’re pretty good with the numbers from Slash.  I’m looking forward to talking about that, but later.” He raised his eyebrows a couple of times.

I eyed him, but I knew he was just kidding around with her.

It served us all, really, to get that group out of Wilkinsburg.  Meant that we could all stretch our legs a little, extend our territory and make sure that we controlled what was getting in and how.

“Welcome, guys,” he said as he opened the door to the lodge and let us all in.  “Bonfire going on out back and plenty of beer and pussy to go around.  Find what you like, make sure it ain’t claimed, and have yourself a good time.”

I clutched Layla a little tighter.  She sure as hell was claimed, and there wasn’t any way I was going to let her out of my sight until I absolutely had to.

BOOK: Wed to the Bad Boy
3.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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