Unlawful Seizure (Filthy Florida Alphas Book 1) (9 page)

I
didn’t mean to fall asleep. Both of us sleeping is too damn dangerous out in the open like this. If the animals don’t attack us, there are plenty of people out there looking to do it. The combination of all the walking, the mess that has been the last few days and the sadness of admitting I need to send Tess home, all combined to wear me out.

When I wake, Tess is still out to the world. She’s lying curled into me. Her face is buried in my neck and her arm is hooked around me. She fits me perfectly, everything about her feels right. Except that, I can’t keep her.

Tess is something that I never saw coming. I’ve lived an okay life. I was pretty satisfied. I had my shop, some good friends, cold beers, and what I thought were good times. I never had to work too hard to have a warm place to stick my cock, and that’s all I ever wanted. I didn’t do relationships and had no use for them. When I made the decision to end the life of the man that robbed me of my child, I had no idea what might be waiting for me.

I’m not sure you can prepare for someone like Tess. Had I known she was my future, I would have chosen differently. I would have still ended that sorry son of a bitch, but I would have played it smarter, I would have called in markers and done it safer.

My finger traces the delicate curve of her neck and shoulder. She’s so small and beautiful. I want more time with her. I want…

“Max?” she whispers sleepily. My dick has yet to be soft around Tess. I have three stages around her, hard, harder, and fuck if I don’t get relief I’m going to die. That stage is what I imagine overdosing on Viagra would be like. Four-hour erection? Tess has no problem inspiring them from me. With just her whispering my name I move into stage two, and I’m knocking on the door of stage three. I want to groan out loud, from the torture.

“If things were different, I’d put my mark on you,” I tell her before I can stop myself.

“Your mark?” she asks hugging me tighter, and I’m in no hurry to move from here. This feels a lot better than her fear of me yesterday.

“A tattoo. I’d want you to wear me on your body,” I tell her, kissing her just above her ear.

“Do a lot of women wear your mark?”

“I own a tattoo shop, Kitten.”

“Oh…right,” she whispers, and her voice is a strange mixture. I’m not good at deciphering women, I’ve never needed to be, but I think I hear the disappointment in hers. I smile.

“Not one woman has my name on her though, and that’s what I want on you, Kitten. My name, marking your skin. My name a part of you, so that any son of a bitch who comes near you, knows you’re mine, you’ll always be mine.”

She grows still, and I figure I’ve gone too far. Then her soft voice surprises me, “Would you wear me? I mean my name?”

I don’t even have to think about it. “Absolutely, Kitten. Absolutely.”

“We could still do it,” she whispers, and the temptation is so strong. I beat it down.

“We need to get going. It’s dangerous to stay in one place for too long,” I tell her helping her to slide off of me. I can’t allow myself to live in the dream world that tries to weave around me. I have a road already laid out ahead of me, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I need to keep reminding us both of that.

“Where are we headed?” she asks sometime later. We’re walking towards Holy Hills, it’s an area near Ormond, and it’s also where the Vipers have their compound. I don’t know exactly, what I’m going to do, but I know Marcum will have my back and I’m going to need his help to survive. I look over at Tessa. I still want to survive, I’m trying to let go of the dream she promises, but I can’t, not yet, not entirely. Somewhere deep down inside, there’s a little spark of hope that burns from just being around Tess.

“I’m going to call in some markers to make sure we get you returned home safely.”

“You don’t need to do that; it’s not me they’re after, Max. You shouldn’t indebt yourself to anyone because of me.”

“They owe me, I just never cared enough before to call in the marker.”

“So, why do it now?” she persists, and I think about ignoring the question, but I don’t.

“I would rather not get shot to death in front of you, Tess.”

She’s walking beside me, but at my blunt words I can see her stumble in my peripheral vision.

“If you give yourself up, they won’t. I mean, we could tell them you were saving me, and we were walking back to turn yourself in. They wouldn’t have to know anything else, Max.”

“It must be nice living in your dream world, Kitten. I’m an escaped convict with a pretty woman who has been missing for days. They are definitely going to shoot first and ask questions later. Besides, I’m starting to think I want to be free.”

“You could get parole, Max. It might take a little bit of time for a new hearing, but I would testify for you. You could get parole, I know it.”

I listen to her words, and the hope laced in them, and I know she believes what she is saying. I also know that the courts aren’t stupid, and even with her on my side, parole is a long shot, after breaking free from jail for a few days. There’s also no guarantee. I could rot away for years in that hellhole. Before, it didn’t bother me, but knowing Tess is on the outside, and I can’t take care of her, or watch over her, would slowly kill me from the inside, out. I need to think. Problem is, I have trouble doing that around her.

“Please, Max,” she whispers, her hand on my arm.

“Are you forgetting I just killed two people and not a day ago you were scared of me?” The devil inside of me makes me remind her. Forces her to acknowledge our differences.

“They were trying to hurt me, and he was going to kill you. We could explain, Max. It would be extenuating circumstances. We have to try.”

I turn to look at her, and it doesn’t seem real. Maybe it’s the intensity of the situation; I don’t know. It feels as if we’ve been together a lot longer than we have. The plea in her eyes grabs me, and even though I know I can’t give her what she wants, I need to reassure her. The lie comes so easily. The relief on her face is my payoff.

“We’ll hold up at Marcum’s for a day or so, and I’ll think about it, Tess.”

Her sweet, full lips spread into a smile, and I feel like a bastard for giving her false hope. One more day I promise myself. I just need her sweetness around me for one more day. Then I’ll face what lies before me. Then I will let her go.

As we continue walking, I can’t figure out who is lying to themselves the most. Tess, for thinking it will all work out somehow if I turn myself in, or me, for thinking one more day is all I need or want.

It’s probably me. I’ve been saying one more day since the beginning, and I’m a big enough bastard to admit that I’m going to keep her longer still. There’s no way I can give her up until I absolutely have to.

“How long till we get to your friend’s?”

“Getting tired?”

“Just a little bit, around the edges. Not so you could tell. I could probably go for another week really,” she wisecracks.

My lips twist to keep the smile from forming.

“About another hour or so.”

“Or so? Is that like you’re telling me an hour, but in reality it is probably two or three hours?”

“That’s me telling you that if you talked less and picked up your walking, we’d probably make it in about an hour. But since you are you, it will probably be more like two hours.”

“That hurts, Max,” she huffs, but I notice she doesn’t argue with me. “Will there at least be beds at this friend’s house? And maybe even a hot shower? Oh good Lord in Heaven, please tell me there will be a hot shower.”

An image of Tess naked in the shower, my cock buried inside of her; flashes before my eyes and I have to adjust myself to keep the zipper in my pants from destroying my cock.

“I’d say a shower is a must,” I tell her gruffly. Her eyes follow my hands as I adjust myself. She doesn’t say anything, but the welcome is not there as it has been in the past. I guess the ghosts from yesterday are still between us. I’m still keeping her for a few more days. I’m not giving her a choice.

T
urns out Max’s friend is actually, friends and these friends are notorious in Florida. The Steel Vipers Motorcycle Club are a bunch of hardened criminals disguised as bikers.

“Max, I don’t want to be here. I’ve heard all about the Vipers. They’re deadly and criminals.”

“What do you think I am, Kitten? I told you, never forget who I am.”

That’s the only reply I got. It shut me up, like it was supposed to. That was thirty minutes ago, and we haven’t talked since. I was ushered into Dawg’s—which is apparently Max’s adopted name, given by Marcum, the leader—honorary room and locked in. I didn’t have to test the lock. There isn’t one. I’m locked in by the guard on the outside. A huge, boulder disguised as a man and given the appropriate name of Mammoth. They called him Moth for short. I called him nothing because he was a good seven foot, and so broad he made ten of me easily. He was marked in ink from head to toe and had these large, gage-like things in his ears that looked painful as hell.

I look around the, pretty much empty, room. The walls are paneling that belongs in the seventies. There’s an old dresser with a mirror that again belongs in the seventies and a matching bed with a blue velvet and a definitely, seventies bedspread thrown over it. Still it’s soft, and there’s a connected bathroom, so I don’t really care. I head straight for the shower, planning on using all of the hot water and not leaving Max one drop.

I make good on my promise, and it feels divine. The water works magic on the aches and pains that living in the wilds the past few days had given me. There is a scratch on my breast; I can only assume, left there by Hernandez, and I want to hurl all over again. I suck it up and instead wash myself raw again. I’m wrapping a towel around myself and walking out into the room but stop when I see there’s a redhead sitting on the bed popping bubble gum.

“Hello?”

“Was wondering when you were going to get out of there. Of course, I guess if I’d been sleeping in the Florida swamplands like you have; I’d stay in the shower for hours too.”

“Umm…yeah,” I say holding the towel a little closer. It feels like I’ve been months without talking to anyone other than Max.

“I’m Cherry, sugar. I belong to Marcum. He asked me to bring you some clean clothes and take you to the kitchen to find you some food.”

“I appreciate it a lot, Cherry, but well…I don’t think anything you have will fit me,” I answer, and I’m not lying. Cherry is everything I always wanted to be and never could be. She’s taller than my 5’6 frame by a good four or five inches. She’s all tits and ass, I mean it should be illegal for a woman to be stacked that well. My sad b-cup and hardly there ass, weep at their failures.

Cherry laughs, and it’s a nice laugh. She looks to be mid-to-late thirties, and she’s got a beautiful face to match the rest of her. She seems like someone I would be friends with, which surprises me. I didn’t expect that here at the Vipers—especially from a woman claiming to be the President’s property. I’m not even sure what that means. Are they married? Is she like, one of many he claims? I don’t ask her because I don’t want to offend her, especially when she’s being so nice to me.

“Marcum mentioned you were kind of tiny. He said he didn’t know how Dawg bent you over without breaking you in two. No worries, I borrowed some of Callie’s clothes for you.”

“Umm…Max and I well…we haven’t really…” I start to explain, and then stop because I don’t know what to say to that. “Who’s Callie?”

“You haven’t fucked Dawg? Woman what is wrong with you. They say that man is legendary in the sack, and he sure is fucking easy on the eyes.”

My face heats and I wish I had kept my mouth shut.

“I well, he took me hostage…” I defend.

“He could take any woman hostage, and they’d willingly go. You must be crazy or something.”

“Who’s Callie?” I ask again because I really need to change the subject here.

“She’s Marcum’s.”

“I thought you belonged to Marcum?” I ask, deciding since she left the door opened, I’d walk on in.

“Callie is his daughter; she stays here sometimes. She’s away at school now. She’s small, like you, though she does have a little more in the chest area. They should still fit.”

“You’ll have to thank her for me,” I tell her, reaching down and finding a pair of slim fit jeans and a green hoodie. I could almost giggle in delight. “I don’t suppose you have some makeup I could borrow?” I ask, sounding almost hopeful. Cherry reaches behind her and holds out a cosmetic bag. “Cherry, I could kiss you!”

“Well, I don’t normally swing that way, but it might be worth it just to say I got in where Dawg couldn’t.” I stop and look at her, and then we both start laughing. I hurry and get dressed and throw some makeup on to hide the circles under my eyes and we head towards the kitchen. Food. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my life. I still haven’t seen Max, and I guess he figures that as long as someone is watching over me, he doesn’t need to bother with me. It doesn’t sit well with me, but there’s not much I can do about it. A part of me wishes we were still in the woods, and I had Max to myself.

Cherry feeds me a BLT, and I will never take the taste of bacon for granted again. Once I polish off the glass of milk she gives me; she asks me if I’d like to walk out back with her where the rest of the women are. Since there is still no word from Max, I shrug and figure, why not.

I don’t know what I expected when I found out we were going to the Vipers compound. Maybe cement walls covered in blood, orgies, dead bodies and skulls thrown around for good measure. Instead, it’s like a giant community. When Cherry takes me out back, it’s to a fenced-in yard, full of swing sets and children playing and surrounded by a large privacy fence. It’s probably the last thing I would expect to find in a motorcycle club’s stronghold.

We sit down at a picnic table where two other women are talking. They’re dressed much like Cherry and me, jeans, and a t-shirt or sweater. Somewhere in the back of my mind I thought every woman at a biker’s club wouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes unless it was like a G-string bikini.

“Tessa this is Babs and Jinxy; they’re the other old ladies. Babs belongs to Topper, and Jinxy just got claimed by Blaze. Ladies, this here is Tessa, she showed up last night with Dawg.” I smile at them nervously, feeling very much out of my depth.

“You Dawg’s old lady? That’s gonna piss off Jenna for sure,” Jinxy pipes up.

“I…no, I don’t guess I am…”

“Too bad, it would have been fun to watch Jenna lose her shit,” Jinxy replies.

“Amen,” Babs adds in agreement.

Apparently Jenna is not well liked among these ladies.

“Who is Jenna?” I ask because it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that her and Max have some kind of relationship. She’s probably the reason I haven’t seen Max yet.

“Club whore, and I mean the word whore. Some of the muffler bunnies are good women, yanno? Jenna? Not even a little bit. She’s rotten clear to the bone,” Cherry says.

Babs adds in another amen. She obviously is a woman of few words.

“Why do you let her stay around then?” I ask confused.

Cherry laughs, and Babs proves me wrong by speaking up, her voice sounds like a woman who smokes ten packs of cigarettes a day.

“The men demand it because she can suck dick like a Hoover. Same reason Dawg even messes with her skanky ass.”

Something cold and bitter twists in my chest. I may not have met Jenna, but I’d like to scratch her eyes out right now.

“Who do all of the kids belong to?” I ask to change the subject, wishing Max would show up so I’d know he’s nowhere near Jenna.

“Members of the Vipers. Those two little blonde hellions over there are Marcum’s twins. Moth’s daughter is over there pulling Blaze’s kid’s hair. Charity Lynn! You stop that this instant or I’m going to have your daddy tan your hide!” Cherry says. I watch as the little girl looks at Cherry, and you can see rebellion in everything she does. She’s an adorable child with pale blonde hair curled over her head.

“So, spill it, woman, what’s going on with you and Dawg?” Bab’s asks and suddenly I wish she really didn’t talk.

“I, well…”

“Stop being a nosy bitch, Babs,” Max says coming up behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, and I relax a little.

“Dawg. You’re looking good for a jailbird.”

“Yeah, you’re looking good too, for a chick who’s stuck with Topper.”

“Fuck you, Dawg,” that comes from a tall, skinny man who has to be close to seven foot and barely has more meat on him than I do.

“Sorry, man, not my type,” Max says. “Now if you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to take my woman back to our room.”

I watch the banter back and forth. I don’t know if Max is serious, but I do know I like being called his woman.

“Oh! Max is going to have a little of the old in and out,” Topper jokes and I’m doing my damnedest not to blush. “Take old one-eye to the optometrist. Get a little slap and tickle,” he keeps going and Max gives him the finger and takes my hand leads me back through the compound, while everyone else is laughing.

“You have some strange friends,” I tell him when the door closes behind us, leaving the laughter and Topper’s comments behind.

“Yeah, but they’re good ones,” Max says and after having spending some time with them, I’m starting to think he’s right.

“So what’s the plan now?” I ask as Max leads us through the main room.

“Max! Blaze was just telling me you made it back.” Some skanky woman wearing a white t-shirt and nothing else, including a bra that she desperately needs, sing-songs. She’s blocking our way from the main entrance to the rooms and I have a bad feeling this is going to be Jenna.

“Hey, Dawg, ol’ man. How’s it hanging?” A man says coming out of the room zipping up his pants. He doesn’t have a shirt on, and his chest is covered in tattoos, gorgeous ones, but I have a bad feeling this is Blaze and having just met Jinxy, I think he’s a douchebag.

“Jenna,” Max acknowledges, but his voice is tight. Seems I was right. “Not bad, Blaze. If you don’t mind old buddy, it’s been a rough couple of days and I want to get my dick wet for the first time in way too fucking long,” Max says. I want to punch him in the junk, but since Jenna is shooting me evil looks and douche bag Blaze is eyeing me like I’m the Grade ‘A’ steak, freshly cut at his favorite butcher’s I mostly want to leave.