Chapter 4

4

Piston – Twenty-Five Years Old – Two Years Later

I gulp my beer, slouching down in the black armchair in the corner of the common room as I watch Angel slowly move the tip of her tongue around Desiree’s clit, then sucks the bud into her mouth while thrusting three fingers into her cunt that’s flowing with juices that I can hear from here.

Desiree arches her back off the hardwood floor before me, moaning as she brings her right hand up, pulling on her own nipples, while her left grips hold of Angel’s short white-blonde hair, pushing the woman’s face further into her cunt, rubbing hard against her tongue.

Fuck, I’d give anything to get in the middle of that, to even be fucking aroused by it….

I take another gulp of my beer as bitterness fills me.

I gave Natalie three fucking years of my body, three years of her being the only girl I fucked, of her knowing we would end despite how much I craved her, and she goes and fucking betrays me.

She knew I didn’t want a relationship, yet she forced one on me anyway….

“Our new Treasurer, Piston!” Steal says to a crowded common room, and I grin as he hands me my new cut.

I take it willingly after removing my old one, handing it to our VP, Anchor, before putting my new one on. The brothers all cheer and shout while I look down at the leather, and the urge to call Natalie to tell her hits me hard.

It’s been three weeks since I watched her walk into a post, being her clumsy self, three weeks since I held her, and three weeks since I snuck out of her apartment for the last time, cutting all communication, and honestly, I feel a little off kilter.

I guess she came to mean more to me than I planned, and if I were a better man, a man worthy of her, then I’d fight my demons for her, but I’m too fucked up to be someone’s old man, someone’s husband. My past has determined that, and Natalie deserves someone who will love her unconditionally.

I don’t think I’m capable of love, and it hurts knowing someone else will get her laughs, her clumsiness, and her smiles, but this is for the best, and she agreed.

That’s why I haven’t heard from her since our last night together.

Acid pats my back hard, giving me a proud look as Sapphire, a clubwhore, saunters over to me. She grins wide when our eyes lock and walks right up into my body, pressing her barely-covered tits against my chest.

My dick doesn’t even twitch, and I swallow hard.

Three weeks, and I haven’t had any reaction to another girl—fuc,k more like three years.

I give Sapphire a tight smile and step back, using my phone's beeping as an excuse, but she still frowns, her dark blue eyes narrowing at my reaction to her. I ignore her and look at the screen, only to frown myself.

My Diamond: Hey, I know we agreed no contact after you graduated, but can we meet? I’m at the day care until six, so in the parking lot? It’s urgent.Natalie.

What the…?

“Everything alright?” Acid asks as he looks over at my text.

“I’m not sure,” I reply. “She says it's urgent, and I know Natalie. It’s been three weeks since we called it quits without a word between us, as we agreed, so it must be big for her to contact me now.”

My palms begin to sweat, and I pray, I fucking pray and hope what I’m thinking is not true, that she didn’t fucking get knocked up.

I don’t want a kid with my fucking blood—my father’s blood—running through its veins.

Acid squeezes my shoulder, seeing where my thoughts have gone, and rasps, “Let’s pretend I didn’t see what she’s under on your phone, and you get going. It’s ten to six; come on, I’ll go with you.”

I nod, grateful to have him by my side, hoping she hasn’t trapped me to keep me.

Acid and I pull up outside of Cora’s just as Natalie walks out in her usual jeans and plain black tee.

Her black hair is up in a messy ponytail, and there are deep bags under her midnight blue eyes.

She looks up when I pull up next to her car, her eyes going to me, and then my brother. I watch as she nervously plays with her keys, but frown when I see a bruise on her hand.

“Hey Nat, what did you do to your hand, sweetheart?” Acid asks with curiosity, and she winces, looking our way sheepishly, and I sigh.

“What did you bump into this time?” I ask, exasperated.

The girl is a klutz, I fucking tell yah.

She scowls. “What makes you think I walked into something? Maybe I got into a fight….” I raise a suspicious brow, and she drops her arms in defeat, her bag just missing the ground. She snaps, “Fine, alright, I slammed it in my front door this morning, trying to stop it from squishing Bluebell because the damn thing tried following me out again!”

I snort, shaking my head, while Acid leans over and asks, “Who is Bluebell?”

I grin. “Her cat that’s supposed to be black but looks blue, and is an indoor animal but wants to be an outdoor one.”

Acid laughs while Natalie rolls her eyes, and I get serious now.

“What was urgent, Diamond?” I ask calmly, and all humor leaves my brother while her eyes tear up. Then she says the words I’ve been fucking praying not to hear.

“I’m pregnant….”

I didn’t want to, but, at that moment, I knew I had to give her my leather; I knew I had to marry her.

I refused to be anything like my father, so with just us, Acid and Steal, we got married at the courthouse, and I bought her an apartment a mile from the clubhouse.

Two months after giving her my last name, my cut, my fucking patch, something I never wanted to do, she showed up at the club to inform me the doctor claimed her pregnancy test was a false positive, and anger like no other fucking filled me.

She tried to fucking trap me for my patch, and it worked.

Desiree screams as her orgasm hits her, and I watch as Angel licks the juices gushing from her cunt as I take another gulp of my beer.

“Angel, Desiree, go play with another brother, fuck off the pair of you,” Steal snaps as he sits next to me.

Both women pout but don’t argue. They both stand, Desiree, struggling a little, her legs wobbly from her orgasm, while Angel licks her lips, not missing a drop of Desiree’s cum. They walk away, their hips swaying, their bare ass’s tempting for many, and yet, I’m still only semi-hard.

Steal growls low, and I sigh. “I’m not touching them, Steal, so I’m not cheating. I’m keeping my word.”

He doesn’t say anything for a beat, but I don’t look at him.

He believed what she said, that the tears she cried were real when she told me the test was false, and that she’d divorce me without any hassle.

Only she knows she can’t do that; she knows the club laws, and this fucker can’t say anything to me anyway. Not long back, the idiot held his woman, a woman I’ve fucking known for years, at gunpoint, threatening to shoot her if she didn’t leave club property, saying that lying patch chasers weren’t welcome, despite the club full of clubwhores.

“It’s not physical cheating, no, but it is emotional,” he finally says, and I snort.

“Seriously, emotional ? We fuck maybe once a month, and that’s about it. If I had it my way, Steal, I would have taken that cut back, and given her divorce papers for trapping me this way.” Anger etches every inch of me, my body vibrating.

She didn’t fucking trap you and you know it , a voice whispers in the back of my head, making me scowl.

Steal reminds me, “Yet, you can’t….”

I scoff, “Why not, huh?” I look his way. “You’re the prez…why can’t you say okay, just this fucking once?”

His eyes soften. “Because I’m not the one who made the rule, my great-grandfather did after too many brothers kept swapping women, giving them cuts, then taking them away. You chose to make her your old lady, Piston, which means you still have three years left until you can take it back. Besides, I let you off when you refused to move her into your home on club grounds, leaving her defenseless, and Piston, we both know you're only this hurt over everything, even two years later, because you’re in love with her but don’t want to admit it to yourself.” I flinch at his words. He stands, patting my back. “Speak to your wife, Piston. Open your heart before you lose her.”

That said, he walks away, leaving me with my thoughts. I refuse to believe his words, that I’m in love with her.

She was a bit of college fun, that’s it…for three years straight, but still, that was it, fun.

I don’t do love, I fucking can’t, because I’ll bring her fucking down.

“You fucking trapped me, didn’t you? That was your fucking plan all along!” I scream in her face, the club quiet while tears coat Natalie’s cheeks, but I ignore them.

She wanted this, she fucking planned this….

I squeeze my eyes shut.

She ran out after I called her all the nasty names under the sun in front of the whole club, and we didn’t speak for three months, until Aunt Holly and my Gran demanded she come to dinner.

I messaged her and never got a reply, but she did show up for dinner, not once looking my way.

We’ve been in limbo since.

I’ll show up at the apartment I bought her once a month, a date we agreed on, and we’ll fuck, but that’s it. I’ll come, not giving a shit if she does, before leaving again.

I won’t cheat on my wife, but I’ll also not go without my dick getting wet, and that’s the compromise we came up with.

Sighing, I walk out the front door, and head to my bike.

I’m not doing what Steal recommended. Instead, I’m going home for a fucking shower, and then to get some sleep.

I promised to do the books for the diner tomorrow, and I need to update all our passwords like I do once a month, so I need some fucking sleep.

Steal is wrong, I don’t fucking love her, and as soon as our time is up, she’s outta my life for good.

Just keeping telling yourself that , the voice whispers again, and I growl, ignoring the pit that forms in my stomach at my thoughts. I climb on my Harley, starting her up, revving the shit out of her, then skidding away from the clubhouse and down the dirt track to my house.

I put my hand up to Acid as he rides past, but I don’t stop. I’m done listening to people defend her.

She trapped me, plain and fucking simple, and I’m not the man to give her what she wants; I’m incapable of it.