Chapter 34

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

CLINK

Confessing my love for Dillion was not on my bingo card for tonight, and yet, I fucking did that… after fucking her. Taking her hand in mine, I guide her away from the hallway and back into the bar.

I’m sure she’s starving.

I know that Firecracker went to the grocery store today, but I don’t recall Dillion going to the kitchen at all throughout the day.

“Maybe I’ll just go back up to the bedroom,” Dillion murmurs.

Tugging on her arm, I turn her toward me. Her eyes meet mine, and she presses her lips together, rolling them a few times as she watches me. I almost laugh at her trepidation, knowing that there are zero reasons for her to be worried about anything.

This room, these people, they’re her family. She just has to accept them as that. They’ve already accepted her. Fully. Dillion is a Dark Horse old lady. There’s no question about it.

She’s strong and loyal. Even if she hasn’t come to terms with everything yet, it’s who she is at her core. I know that, and she’ll come into her own eventually. But she can’t hide away from everyone. This is her world now.

“The girls came here because they want to spend time with you. They could have dropped dinner off to their husbands and gone home to their kids. But they didn’t. Don’t be rude.”

Her eyes widen before they flick down to my feet. Slowly, she brings her gaze to connect with mine. Then she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she shifts her attention over to the long table with food set up buffet style.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she whispers.

“Go and talk with them,” I murmur. “They’re here for you.”

Sliding my hand to her lower back, I apply pressure there and gently push her forward. She moves, albeit a bit reluctantly. One foot in front of the other, then another until she reaches the group of old ladies.

They greet her with smiles because that’s who the fuck they are. My sister wraps her arms around Dillion in a hug. I’m not sure why I can’t look away from them. Maybe because I thought that this could never happen.

I never thought I would have a woman. It wasn’t something I ever thought much about. My life was going to be uncomplicated and easy. It was not going to involve an old lady of any kind.

Except that’s not how shit ended up. Going to prison changed things for me. Not just because that’s when Dillion became mine, when the club found out about her brother’s betrayal, and when my world changed. When Spencer came back, I saw firsthand what love could do.

And I became a goddamn pussy, apparently.

Walking over to a table, I sink down in the empty chair. Atomic, King, and Fate are sitting, too, each with a beer in their hands. Lifting my arm, I motion for the prospect behind the bar to bring me a beer.

“Tomorrow, we start this shit, yes?” Fate asks.

I watch as his gaze shifts to Atomic as he waits for an answer. We have to get his approval to get started on our plan, especially since we have to use a lot of manpower to make it happen.

Atomic leans back in his chair, his gaze flicking to Fate’s. “I think we should start tomorrow,” he murmurs. “This plan could seriously fucking work. You have my full approval to use as many men from as many clubs as you need.”

I like the sound of that. Being able to have full access to the Dark Horse MC and get the numbers to make this possible. Plus, they’re spread out all over the state, and it’ll be easier to get to the trucks quicker.

Atomic and King leave us alone just as Piston approaches. We spend the next few hours getting a schedule planned out and the dates of the transports that I’ve been able to uncover.

“Do you want to start texting people now?” Fate asks.

We have all the Demon Guns' cell phones. Piston has already set up the program that we can use to help us out with communications. We’re ready to go, but first, we need to line up the men on our side. Then we can get working on fucking up the Demon Guns.

The three of us pick a list of clubs to text and get to work. I don’t think we need a whole lot of men per group. I’m sure they’re busy with their regular jobs and then whatever else Atomic has them doing in this effort to take down two fucking massive groups.

What feels like just a few seconds later, Dillion approaches. Fate and Piston stand, moving away from the table, with a promise to get together first thing in the morning to get this shit really rolling.

I agree, jerking my chin toward them as they walk away. Wrapping my arm around Dillion’s waist, I guide her to my legs. She sinks down, her arm sliding across my shoulder as she looks into my eyes.

“You feel better?” I ask.

She sways slightly in my arm, and I know she must be because she’s fucking drunk. Laughing softly, I lift my hand and tuck her hair behind her ear, gliding my fingers around the back of her neck. Curling my fingers in the back of her hair, I grip her strands as I look into her eyes.

Her beautiful fucking face, every piece of her, is stunning. I can’t believe she’s mine. And I know she is, too. There is nobody else in this world for me but her, and me for her. It may take her a little bit to believe that, but she will, and she will never doubt not only my love but her worth.

This is the woman I want to call my wife. The woman I want to carry my babies. The woman I want to share my world with. Dillion leans forward and touches her lips to mine.

“I feel good,” she breathes as she shifts in my lap.

She straddles my thighs, her fingers gripping the sides of my neck as she does. My hands leave her hair, my fingers curling around her hips. She dips her chin, and her eyes find mine.

“How good?” I ask.

The music grows heavier and louder around us as the food is finished and the partying begins. Everyone in this room is under extreme amounts of pressure. There is going to be a lot of releasing that pressure shortly. I’m personally feeling really fucking great, but I’ll never turn down more.

Gliding my fingers across her thigh, I slip them between her legs and gently, featherlike, dance them between her legs. She sucks in a breath, and her eyelids lower as she exhales a heavy breath.

“Good,” she moans.

Leaning forward, I touch my lips to the center of her throat before I speak. “You moan, I’m going to have to fuck you, baby.”

Her breath hitches, and she leans forward and nips my bottom lip. My cock stands at immediate attention. “Then fuck me,” she whispers.

Gripping her ass, I stand up, ignoring the room around me. The sex, the music, the drinking, and the drugs. I walk us back to our room. I’m going to fuck her again. Hard and fast. I’m going to take what she offers me and show her just how she affects me.

How she makes me feel.

How fucking perfect she is.

DILLION

Stretching, I open my eyes and wince as the morning sun beats ruthlessly into the bedroom. Rolling to my side, I look at the blank wall in front of me. I’m not sure why I haven’t noticed this wall before, but as I lie here, my center aching from Humble, it’s all that I can see.

From his fingers, his mouth, and his cock—all used expertly.

Very expertly.

Sitting up, I tug the blanket to my neck as I take a moment to wake up. I have a bit of a headache and a heavy head. I think about the girls, the women who were so kind to me last night. I can’t believe I was going to hide away from them.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I keep the sheet wrapped around me. The door flies open. I whip my head to the side to see who is standing in the doorway. I expect to see Humble, but that is not who is there.

It’s a man I recognize, but I don’t know his name.

His eyes widen, and he flicks them down to where the sheet covers my nakedness, then he smirks before he slowly brings them back up to meet my own. “Hey, babe. I’m Guts. Sorry to bust in like this. You’re needed downstairs.”

“Needed?” I ask

“Nash. Needs to talk to you about the Southern Mafia. King, too.”

I’ve only met them a few times. I don’t understand what they would want with me.

“The Southern Mafia?” I ask.

He dips his chin in a single nod. I start to ask him what I could possibly help them with, but I decide not to. Whatever it is that they want to know and think they can get from me, I’m going to do what I can.

Mainly because I hate the Southern Mafia in general, but also because I want to help this group. These men who have helped me. Saved me. Protected me. They’ve done more for me than the Southern Mafia ever have.

“I’ll be downstairs as soon as I can,” I call out.

Guts jerks his chin, then spins around and walks away. He doesn’t close the door behind him, and I wonder if he has a woman of his own. Surely, he doesn’t. No way would he leave the door open with a naked woman inside if he had his own at home.

Keeping the sheet wrapped around my body, I stand and move toward the bathroom. Instead of bringing my clothes and all my things with me, I just take the sheet. Closing the bathroom door behind me, I lock it and drop my sheet.

I turn to the mirror and take in my reflection. I should be surprised by how rough I look, but I’m not. I was drunk last night. I practically attacked Humble, and I’m embarrassed now that the sunlight is bright and the day is here.

My hair is a mess, my face red, and my eyes wild. I run my fingers through my hair and let out a heavy sigh. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I release the flesh, then turn away from myself.

I start the shower and let the water warm up, waiting until the steam fills the room. Inhaling and exhaling, I let the steam fill my lungs. I love the sensation. I wish I could have this clearing my lungs out on a daily basis.

Maybe I should do a steam treatment every day. I don’t think it would be a bad thing, especially with how calm I feel right now. Sucking in a breath, I hold it, then let it out slowly as I step into the warm shower.

The water washes over me. I close my eyes and exhale slowly. I know I need to hurry. I said I would, but I want to take in this moment to let the warm water massage my skin.

My body is exhausted. It’s sore and, without a doubt, swollen everywhere. Once I’ve washed and dried my body, I wrap a towel around myself and walk back to the bedroom.

I lock the door, knowing that these men have zero boundaries and will burst through it without even knocking. Moving toward my suitcase, I wonder if I should unpack, then decide against it.

I won’t be here much longer, then I’ll be back home, but not for long because it’s in escrow. That causes me to pause. I can’t believe that my house is going to be gone. I don’t have an attachment to it at all. It’s just coming to the realization that I’ll be leaving here soon.

But I’m not sure I’ll really be leaving. Maybe I’ve been too hasty in my decision. Maybe I should have canceled the whole thing. It’s too late now… but maybe. Once I’m dressed, I shove the thoughts of my house and my future to the back of my head.

I move downstairs but stop at the base. Looking around, my gaze slides across the room until I catch a glimpse of Nash and King. They’re sitting at a table together, their heads bent as if they’re in a deep discussion about something extremely important.

My body craves coffee, but I ignore the call for the craving and head straight to the table with the two men. Without pulling out a chair, I stand in front of them, dipping my chin as I look down and clear my throat.

Their gazes swing to meet mine, and I watch as each of them grins. “You needed to speak to me?” I ask

Nash leans back in his chair, too sexy for his own good or his age. He chuckles. “Have a seat, babe. Let’s have a little chat.”

I wonder if I’m in trouble, but then realize I can’t be. I walked away from that world a long time ago. I don’t give a shit about it. I never knew much about it then. I sure as shit don’t know anything about it now.

Sinking down in the chair, I tilt my head to the side as I wait for whatever it is they must know, whatever it is they think I hold the knowledge of. I don’t, but whatever.

“Tell us everything there is to know about the Southern Mafia. I’m talking numbers and locations.”

Opening my mouth, I press my lips together and tilt my head to the other side. “Their numbers and locations?” I ask. “I don’t know how much help I can be,” I confess.

“You know more than we do,” Nash murmurs.

I almost laugh because I’m not sure if that’s actually true. Smirking, I shake my head. “Okay, show me what you have. Let me see if we can build on it.”

King reaches out and wraps his fingers around my wrist. He squeezes me. My eyes swing to meet his as my brows furrow together. “What?” I ask.

“I just want you to be aware that we need this because we’re going to be making some moves.”

It’s sweet that he’s warning me, except he doesn’t realize that I don’t give a fuck. “Burn them all down, King. Burn the whole group to the fucking ground.”

King’s lips curve up into a grin. At the same time, Nash lets out a burst of laughter. I lift my chin slightly and tell them anything and everything I possibly can. Anything to take down the Southern Mafia, to take them completely out of existence.

I hate them, and I want them gone.