A LIL' LESS LOST (The Kingsmen Book 2) (8 page)

******

CHARLOTTE

The med cart was all messed up and out of order. Ugh... how do they let this shit happen around here? We would never get away with this kind of thing back at Mercy. That place was run like a tight ship, every person pulling their own weight. It was nothing like this joke of a hospital. I was sorry to have to leave my old job behind, but it definitely made my resume stand out when I applied for this position. Chisholm General Hospital was a clear step down for a nurse with my qualifications and more than one person here had asked repeatedly why I was willing to make the move along with the drastic pay cut. I gave them all the same well-rehearsed speech. Needing a new place, new scenery, new beginnings. It sounded good and did the trick.... no one needed to know the real reason I was here. But when I have to deal with half assed stuff like an unorganized and unstocked med cart, I question just how much I have to put up with in this hell hole.

I start to separate the syringes by size when the intercom buzzes me. The supply closet is small compared to most, especially back at Mercy, and the loud electronic noise startles me as it fills the tiny space. “Charlie? You there?”

I throw down the package on the tray and step over to the archaic button on the wall. Goddamn! Can't I be left in peace for one fucking minute?

I press on the round plastic circle. “Yeah, Sam... what do you need now?” I didn't dislike him, but I don't understand how a person could need as much help on a daily basis as that tool did.

The wall buzzed again. “Umm.. There's a visitor for you, here at the desk.” What? Surely the man has stepped up his mild pill popping game to full-blown smoking crack in the afternoon. How could I have a visitor? Other than my coworkers and the sweet little old lady who rented next door to me, nobody knew me in this town. And that was just how I fucking liked it.

I was about to press the intercom button again to ask Sam exactly this question, when my better judgment prevailed and I decided to just walk the forty seconds to the desk and straighten this out myself.

I rounded the last corner and stopped dead in my tracks, ten feet from the desk. Sam is standing, facing my visitor. They both look at me. Sam is eying me quizzically, searching for some sort of explanation for an intrusion like this. My visitor taps his palm on the chest height counter top that separates the two men. “Thanks, man, I got it from here.”

Clink strode over to me and took my elbow in his hand turning me to walk with him back around the corner I had just seconds before made my entrance from. His grip is firm but not tight enough to hurt much. He lowers his voice, “Where can we go to talk?”

SHIT!!! He wanted to talk. He knows! How the hell could he know, could he have figured it out? I hadn't given anything away to him. I was sure of it. I looked at him over my shoulder. He looked angry, mean almost.
Fuck
. He
must
know. He was the club's enforcer. He was here on business. I'm sure of it now, judging from the cold exterior he was showing.

“Umm... I don't know.. I don't think I have time right now..” Stall. I needed to stall him, figure a way to talk myself out of this shit. Surely if I told him everything, he would understand. I mean I'm pretty sure there are rules in place for this sort of thing, right? He needed Vince to give the OK for any kind of nasty business and no way was there enough time for him to have worked everything out and then go find Vince to get the order.

He stopped short abruptly holding my arm close to him as I jerked myself from the sudden stop. “Don't play with me...”

He looked around, peeks his head into a hospital room near us. It was vacant.. I knew that because housekeeping had just turned it over yesterday and it sat empty waiting for an influx of admissions to fill the vacant beds inside. One more look through the door and Clink now knew it was empty, too. He guided us inside and closed the door, locking the metal mechanism above the handle. Shit...

“Wait...Clink.. You need to talk about this.”

“NO!” He walked over to me as I cowered away from his large brooding form. His eyes were smoldering over, set on me like a hawk. “We don't talk. You don't TELL me to stop and talk, you don't TELL me to come and pick your ass up later...”

Huh? He pulled at my shoulders, bringing me into him. “I do what I want, when I want.”

He slams his mouth down to mine and kissed me deep, forcefully, catching me off guard as I let out a surprised moan into his mouth. His tongue fills me, offering no answers to my confusion, instead leaving me with more questions. Clink's arms surround me and pull me in tight, hands grabbing onto me and feeling their way around my form. His kiss is strong, powerful, and he asserts his control over me but manages to convince my lips to play along on their own. He tastes like fire, steam rising from deep within him and into me as we explore each other. I'm having trouble breathing, not enough air reaching my lungs as we practically climb into each other. My eyes roll back from the intensity, unwilling to break my lock on his lips to breathe.  

I was taken off guard, by surprise. Surely that's the reason why my body responds to him so easily.    He was playing dirty, for no way would I have lost all thought and gone blank the way I just had under normal circumstances. He did
not
have this control over me, it was just the shock of it that had gotten to me. His lips were rough, unrelenting as they commanded my own to act in tune with them, follow their lead.

My senses were starting to return, the air around me settling, losing their electric charge. I was back in charge of my own body and my mind was now functioning, controlling my movements. I moan as I throw my hands into his short hair, feeling the softness pass between my fingertips. This man was no match for me and he would learn it one way or another.

Clink releases my lips and pulls my top off haphazardly throwing it further into the room behind us. His eyes are deep, searching into me, silently asking for my consent. “No time to be gentle about this, sugar... it's gonna be quick.”

Swallowing is somehow now hard to, but I manage a way to get it done. I nod my head. Almost immediately, he pulls the drawstring to my uniform pants and gravity helps to pull them down the rest of the way past my knees. My bare skin starts to prickle from the cool air in the room and my lace covered nipples peak hard. He eyes them hungrily, and I want his warmth on them. He thumbs over the flowered pattern, teasing them and I suck in deeply. His lips twitch. Damn him.

I grab at his waist and paw at his belt, tugging hard trying to free him, crashing his body into mine with each pull. Oh god... the anticipation is almost too much. I've seen its outline, I've felt the pressure of it but I needed to touch it, to see it. He was a big man, bigger than most and I'll bet his dick was just as big I needed it to be. I throw my hand deep into his pants the second I have enough room to do so, and I groan my pleasure loudly as he's sucking on my neck. It's exactly what I thought it would be. Thick enough to really hold onto and surprisingly longer than I guessed. Mmm. Despite that fact that this was just part of the job, I was really enjoying it.

He bites my neck beneath his kiss. “You like that, sugar?...”

Hell, yeah, I like it..

I hold onto him tight and work my fingers, giving him his answer. “It'll do... and don't call me sugar,
sugar.
”

He turns me around quickly and pulls my back hard against his chest, wrapping his arms around me pulling the delicate lace of my bra down hard, my tits jumping out. He massages them roughly, his callouses offering just the right amount of friction.

“Don't tell me what to call you, sugar. I'll bet you taste real sweet, don't you baby?”

He pushes me forward over the footboard of the closest bed. The mattress meets me hard. “I'm gonna to have to taste that one day, sugar. But now... I need to fuck you.  Hard”

I hear the crinkling of a wrapper and the tell-tale rip of foil. I press my cheek into the bedding and struggle to see behind me. His hands, now finished with their assignment roam behind me. One grabs my hip firm, fingers spreading wide covering my ass cheek. His form is strong and asserting behind me, trying to dominate me. This isn't usually my style.. I'm always the one in control. But somehow it was working. If this bad boy needed to call the shots, then I could feed into his ego a little, for now anyway.

I groan, and use my hands to grab fist fulls of the blanket beneath me. His husky, breathless voice behind me calls to me. “Tell me you want this, baby... tell me you need it just as bad as I do.”

I spread my knees as far as the bundled fabric around them will allow. “Give it to me.. I need it
now.
”

He growls his approval of his little conquest, pressing his huge latex covered dick against me, circling my slit, playing with my need. The roughness of the denim and the small bite of the zipper trails over my skin. He had freed himself just enough to get the job done. “That's right, sugar..”

My slickness offers more than enough guidance as he pushed hard into me holding firmly as he entered to the hilt. I gasped out. Not in pain... there are truly no words for how he felt inside me, claiming my body. He held himself still, muscles taught. “Christ, sugar, you are so fucking tight!”

I smile wickedly. One of the benefits of sitting at a desk while entering charts for hours at an end was being able to do kegel exercises.

“I'm glad you approve.” I answered back to him with just a hint of bitchiness. What was he expecting? I mean..I know I'm no young kid, I was almost twenty seven, but did he think I'd be some kind of loosy Lucy?

I push my ass into him hard, spurring him to start moving. He reaches up and takes hold of a fistful of my cascading hair, turning it in his fingers and holding it rigidly. “Hell, yeah, I approve.”

The next ten minutes were mind blowing. Each thrust of his was met with an equally impressive one of my own. Our sounds filled the room, turning each other on and the sterile scent of the room was now replaced by the muskiness of sex. He was riding me hard, plowing over and over, filling me deeper and wider than I think I've ever had before. It felt glorious, relieving all tension and stress as we poured into each other. I was starting to climb higher and higher, whimpering my need to cross over the invisible edge.

I slip my hand under my chest and pull at my taught nipple, offering whatever help I can to get me there.

“God. Sugar... you feel so fucking good...” He breathed out, low enough that I wasn't even sure it was meant for my ears. I begin to pant, liquid dribbling down the inside of my thigh. He hand slides around my hip and into the heat searching for my center. He finds it quickly and presses into it, twirling it between his fingers and massaging it with his rugged finger tips. It's throbbing beneath his prodding and the flames shoot into me as I call out.

“Yes... oooh, baby, I can't...” And that was it. Ringing in my ears sounded off and bright white light filled my eyes as they rolled back and pressed hard against my closed eyelids. My shoulders shuddered and legs wobbled from the unending exertion. I was spasming around his shaft, gripping it and releasing involuntarily as I panted like a wild animal in heat.

Clink doubled his efforts behind me and pushed himself into his own outburst, slumping over me as he recovered. Our bodies were breathing in time with each other's, deep and fast as we brought ourselves back down.

He numbly kisses my skin as he gulps in air between each one. He began to quiet, settle and then delicately pulled himself from within me. I felt the absence of his warm breath on my back as he stood. There was a snapping sound before Clink walked over to the trash can. His foot pressed on the pedal and the lid obligingly lifted itself allowing him to throw the filled condom into it before shutting closed.

I mustered up enough strength to raise myself and pick my scrubs back up, working the drawstring tight as he pulled his zipper and buckled himself in. We stared, each sizing the other one up. I stood tall, throwing my shoulders back and cocked my eyebrow.

He laughed, closing the space between us and wrapped his arms around my bare waist. His nose circled mine and his lips planted onto mine lightly, sweetly, coercing mine to dance with his. This was nothing like the kisses we'd shared before. There was little eagerness behind it. It was calm, slow, passionate.   I sighed surprisingly into him. He withdrew his kiss and groped my ass with his long fingers.

“Sweet as sugar.”

I scowled and opened my mouth to speak, to reprimand him for calling me sugar, but he placed his finger over my lips, shushing me. He smirked and winked at me before turning toward the exit, leaving me topless behind him. I was speechless. I had been fucked senseless before, but I had never been fucked senseless
AND
speechless before.

He gripped the door handle and turned it while calling out back to me.

“And sugar... be ready out back after your shift.”   And he leaves.

CHAPTER NINE

JAY

It was almost time. Leave it to Clink to come strolling in just minutes before we need to take off. I didn't want to tempt fate, but seriously, could anything else get thrown into the fucking mix today? Surprisingly, the only person who followed directions and didn't add to my pile of worries, was Vicky. She had her shit packed and ready to go in record time, with Blue packing it up in the cage. She sat at the bar tossing back a few beers waiting for her departure and making eyes at any brother that would give her the time of day. Ma sat close by, a buffer, between her and the pack of ol' ladies ready to gouge her fucking eyes out. The sooner I get this chick outta here, the better. At least when my boys fight, it's quick and clean. These women, though, they knew how to fight dirty. Fingernails sharp like claws, hair... you name it. They know how to do the most damage in the least amount of time. And they always went for the face. Why the fuck do they always go for the face?

Tiny had disappeared with Sunny for a while, holing up in the boardroom. I came upon them by chance when I snuck in there to empty the safe of the cash I needed to make good on my end of the bargain with Vicki. I would never be able to sit through another round of church without picturing the mental image of Tiny, balls deep in his girl spread over that table. I'm convinced that if someone searched this place with a black light, no surface would pass the test. Finishing their business, they finally came out of the boardroom, Sunny shifting her clothes around and Tiny high fiving Dewey as he passed by. Sunny was Tiny's ol' lady, just as good as if she were his wife. She hadn't been around as long as most of the women but she was accepted. She had proven her loyalty more than once to both the club and Tiny. Her little salon came in handy, too, when we needed to shift some cash around. 

She avoided my direction, embarrassed at the state I had just seen her in moments earlier. Tiny had bragged about her skills in the sack since forever. Based on what I was able to see... he wasn't exaggerating. I would need to teach Lil's to do what I had just seen Sunny in the middle of. Lil's is as flexible as a fucking rubber band.. I'm sure she can pull it off, no problem. My cock twitched slightly in anticipation, in need.

I nodded over to Tiny and tapped at my wrist and then thumbed over my shoulder, making the universal sign for It's time to get the fuck outta here.” I don't wear a watch, but he got the message just fine.

I filed into the boardroom and threw the small empty black duffel on the ground next to the large safe. Only a handful of brothers had the combo to this baby, and we always kept enough cash on hand to bail out a small fucking country. The bookkeepers and accountants worked overtime giving us a paper trail to make the money look legit in the off-chance that we were raided. The chances of that were slim enough... a big portion of this stockpile made its way into the pockets of the local P.D. bigwigs and some even found its way to the local beat cops. Just enough to keep everyone satisfied and willing to look the other way. It was a win-win situation. Every once in a while the cops needed to make a public show of harassing us a little, but it never passed a certain point, possibly jeopardizing their steady cash flow.

I worked the knob slowly, steady. It was one of the old-fashioned dial safes as Pops didn't trust the new high tech kind. When it came to Pop and technology he preferred to stay on the far end of the curve. It was always a battle getting him to modernize, try new things, things that could make club business easier and bring in a bigger cash flow with less risk. But, he was set in his ways. “If it aint broke don't fix it.” That motto could be tattooed across his fucking forehead and stamped on his tombstone, for no one lived truer to his convictions than Vince Cauley.

The cash was piled neatly in small stacks within the canvas walls of the bag. Any reasonable person with half a brain for investing could do well with this amount. That bitch out there though, I didn't have half a doubt that she'd blow it on shopping sprees, a tricked out car and even a new set of boobs. It's a shame. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make a whore change her ways. I had the bag zipped and thrown over my shoulder as I kicked the heavy steel door to the safe closed. Never one to miss an opportunity to catch me with my pants down, Pop strode in at that exact moment.

He eyed the obviously full bag in my possession and then shifted his gaze to the safe. “Payday already, son?”

I plopped the bag down on the wooden table, not too far from where Sunny's bare ass had been. “Just taking my cut from the Virginia run.” We squared off to each other.

Pops nodded, eyeing the bag. “That's a lot of dough to be walking around with.” I could see the wheels turning, his trying to piece together the little bit of info he had.

“I got a debt to pay off. Sending that stripper off with the cash Shade held back from her, get her out of here free and clear.”

It was true. Mostly. The money would be going to Vicki, but she had one last thing to do to earn it before she could claim it as hers and set off on her jolly little way.

Pop cracked a half smile. “Seems like a foolish way to throw away money, on that one. But, who am I to tell a brother how to spend his pay?”

The mood lightened. We were both being passive to one another, with Pop seemingly aware that something wasn't exactly on the up and up. I picked up the handles and swung the bag.

“What can I say? I was always a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

I stopped in front of Pop as I headed out the door. “I'll take care of this shit and meet you later. At the rendezvous point.”

Pops nodded and clapped his hand down hard on my shoulder. “You be careful with that one, son... she's a slippery little snake. Your momma called it clear as day. Get her outta town.” He looked me straight in the eye, “And you be careful, boy. You hear me? I don't need to be explainin' to your ma or worse, to Lil's, anything about you getting hurt.”

I understood. That was as close to him admitting he was personally concerned for me as I was ever gonna get from him. We were very similar but yet couldn't be more different from each other, coming from a long line of take no shit kinda men. The lessons this man taught me were woven into my upbringing. You don't worry like a bitch, you don't act like one either.

I cocked my chin at him, silent acknowledgement of the unspoken undertones floating between us.

The boys had had enough wits to toss Vicky in the van, Blue waiting at the wheel to follow us. I guess it was better that the two of them got their little fuck out of the way earlier, this way Blue wouldn't get distracted by his passenger. I knew first hand that Vicki was the kind of girl you fucked once just for the experience to know that you'd done it and not missed an opportunity that every other fucking guy in this town had taken her up on. I didn't need to worry about Blue looking for another round on that merry-go-round.

Tiny, Clink, and Butch were huddled around their bikes shootin' the shit over Tiny's new piece. Butch was on probation. Hell! Butch was
always
on probation for one thing or another, but I knew he was carrying, too. Getting caught with a concealed illegal firearm was not a concern for him today. I threw the bag of cash over to Tiny to store on his bike. Mine was full. I had Sunny pack some clothes for Lil's in my saddlebags. Between that and my own stash I didn't have the room.

Once close enough in range of my brothers to talk low, I addressed them as a group.

“We stay tight. It shouldn't take more than forty minutes or so to get there. We stash the bikes about a quarter mile away.”

They all nodded, silently agreeing with the orders before saddling up. With Vince not riding with us, I carried the lead as V.P. and the others falling in line. Clink, as the club enforcer was my right-hand man.

It was a small group compared to when all of the brothers rode out, but out of respect, every single man, woman, and child in this compound lined up to see us off. Ma was right up front next to Pop. I could tell she was worried, her frame rigid and tense. Pops was holding her, offering his woman his strength. She blew me a kiss and leaned back into her ol' man. She was a strong woman, stubborn, fierce, but she and Pop had a dynamic between them. She let him be the man he needed to be, with the club and with her.

The roaring of the bikes was building, echoing within the walls of the surrounding buildings. I tied a bandana tight around my mouth and lowered my shades, the sun was starting to set and I didn't need them for glare. When we rode out for shit like this, we did it covered. People can't ID a fully-concealed biker... to them we all look the same.

We rode out, the crowd closing in the space behind us as we left. I glanced back in my mirror. Almost every single person that mattered to me was back there, in that mass of faces watching us or riding alongside me now. The only person missing was my baby, my Lil's. But I was going to go get her.

******

LIL'S

I don't know what day it is. The sun is setting lower in the sky hinting at early evening. The room is bare, other than a metal-framed bed with some nasty blankets on it and a window with billowing curtains. The breeze feels good, fresh, rejuvenating as I sit on the floor and rest my head on the sill, watching. There's nothing to watch really. We are out in the middle of nowhere, in some old neglected house far from the safety of neighbors. There are bikes parked on the lawn... not many, but at least ten scattered around the property below me. I've always felt safe around bikers, having grown up surrounded by them. But these men had changed my outlook on that. Other than when Tiny had been shot back when I was in high school, I had always had a detached view of the danger that came with every single stich of the patches sewn onto the cuts of men like this. Now, whenever I closed my eyes, whenever I let my mind wander back to Emily and the terror she had on her face, the foreboding of what was coming her way, I feel the true weight of these patches falling down on me.

I had picked a focal point a while ago and just stared. As long as I could just focus on something hard, I was able to keep those memories at bay. The backyard had an old tree set back in the corner, before the wild grass of abandoned land took over. There was a rickety old swing hanging from one of the main branches, but it looked like it hadn't been used in a decade, easy. I'm sure if one of these fat sons of bitches even tried to sit on it, it would snap. But, at one time it must have been new, giving some small kid a great place to hang out, waiting to be called into the house for supper or just passing time pumping their legs back and forth trying to swing higher and higher to reach the sky.

That kid was long gone now, that imaginary family moved on with these bikers taking their place. I rubbed my stomach protectively while looking at the swing. At least I wasn't alone locked up here. I had something with me, something secret and special and something to focus on to keep my mind from the terrible places it seemed hell bent on going to. I cannot think of it again, the sound of the gun firing its deadly aim, the pooling darkness on the floor, the metallic tinge of the scent of blood filling the space. I squint my eyes harder, focusing on the swing, commanding my mind to follow.

The heavy thud of boots outside my door, coupled with the deep vibrations of the old floor boards beneath me alerted me to my visitor before the knock on the door even sounded. The same kid was sent time and time again to check on me. Unless they expected me to jump from a two story window and try to make a run for it through a field of long-forgotten crops, with countless pairs of eyes on me while I made my escape, I don't know why they keep sending him up here. I had thought about making the jump, taking my chances out there. If it were just me, I would have made the leap in a heartbeat. But it wasn't just me anymore. I had something much more important than myself to consider in any half-assed, hair-brained, prison-break plans.

“You done with your plate?”

He couldn't be any more than twenty years old. God knows why he picked this club to hitch his wagon to. Slayers and Kingsmen were the only two MC's left in this part of the state. While I didn't know too much about club business, I knew enough to know that Slayers were into some
really
bad shit.
While the Kingsmen had thrived and built up tons of businesses, bringing in legitimate cash, the Slayers hung around and waited for the scraps. Mainly thanks to Jay, the club was able to support its own pretty comfortably. The ranks swelled and the brothers were kept happy. They were earning well, lived in nice homes, led pretty decent lives, and were all extremely close to one another. The main foundation of the club charter never waivered and the brothers never lost sight of the real purpose for the MC... It offered a home, a life to those guys.... not just bragging rights.

This kid, and I use the term loosely because he's not much younger than me, has no business getting mixed up with assholes like this. I wonder how many people looked at Jay or Tiny and wondered the same thing over the years. He seemed nice enough, bringing me food and water every few hours and checking to see if I needed to use the bathroom.

“I can't eat anymore right now, thanks.” I had only managed to eat about half of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He looked unsure before picking up the unfinished meal. “Say... what's your name? I'm Lil's...”