Bad Apple (The Uncertain Saints MC #4) (17 page)

She looked freaked as her gaze bounced from me to Kitt and back.

“I’m sorry!” She squeaked, backing out of the door just as fast as she came.

“Who was that?” Kitt asked quizzically.

She didn’t sound jealous. Just curious.

And that made me even more happy that she was trusting me.

Had the positions been reversed, I definitely wouldn’t have handled it was well as she had.

“That’s Mary,” I said.

“Ahhh,” she pursed her lips. “That’s the girl that keeps trying to get Ridley to let her come home with him.”

I nodded.

“She has no loyalty. Anyone that’ll look at her and tell her she’s pretty is good enough for her,” I remembered the first and only time I’d slept with her.

And the thoughts must’ve shown on my face, because Kitt’s eyes narrowed dangerously at me.

“What was that?” She stiffened, poking me in the chest just like she’d done the night before.

I caught her hand before that damn fingernail could poke me again, and I pulled her into me.

“Ewww,” she winced, pushing away from me. “You smell like a wet fish.”

I chuckled against her hair.

“Kiss me,” I ordered.

She shook her head quickly, pressing at my chest and pushing away so there would be a gap between her dry clothes and my wet ones.

I tossed my new cut onto the bed where it’d been earlier, and put two hands into the fight she wasn’t going to be winning.

Something she realized not twenty seconds later when she wasn’t able to push more than an inch away from me.

Sighing in annoyance, she offered her lips up to me.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” She waited.

I nodded.

“Once,” I informed her. “And I was drunk.”

She sighed.

“It’s nice to know that, at least, your sober self has a little bit of common sense,” she teased.

I started unbuttoning my uniform shirt, a task which she promptly took over when she realized how slow I was at it.

“You don’t have anything clean you could’ve changed into?” She wondered, her belly brushing my hand as she made quick work of my shirt.

I moved to allow the wet fabric to fall stiffly to the ground, and then started in on my pants.

“Where’s your gun?” She asked when she saw my empty holster.

“It’s at the bottom of Caddo Lake.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“How did that happen?” She gasped.

“Fucking boneheaded teenager thought it’d be fun to do donuts in the stumps right outside of the state park,” I muttered. “And when I went to get him into my boat, the dumbass pulled me in with him,” I growled.

“And your gun?” She asked.

“Gone somewhere in the shuffle,” I sighed. “Looked for it for about two hours before I decided to call it a day.”

She blinked.

“That’s kind of crappy,” she confessed. “And this?”

She pointed to an angry red line that ran down the length of my forearm.

Luckily, my shirt was made of sturdy material, otherwise I would’ve probably needed stitches.

“Barbed wire,” I said. “Fell and it caught me all the way up the arm.”

“Why’d you fall?” She continued curiously.

“Because someone thought it’d be awesome to put their trot line above water so they could see it,” I explained. “Fucking ran across it and caught myself on the barbed wire fence.”

“Sounds like you’ve had an eventful day,” she surmised, helping me take my belt off.

I pulled my underwear and pants down once my belt and pants were unbuttoned, then sat naked on the bed with everything bunched up around my ankles.

I was bent over, head down to see my shoes, when the door burst open and not just the men of the club, but the women that belonged to the men, started filing in.

“Seriously?” I asked them, looking from my bare dick, to them, and back.

“Shit. Sorry, man,” Griffin apologized. “Lenore, stop looking!”

Lenore rolled her eyes and turned her back so she was facing Griffin’s chest.

Annie, Mig’s wife, and Tasha, Casten’s wife, also turned to give me privacy.

“You couldn’t have done this later, Core?” Ridley called teasingly. “My sister’s been dying to open these presents since she got here over two hours ago.”

I bent back over after rolling my eyes and made quick work of untying my boots.

“You got something else to change into beside your cut and your birthday suit?” Wolf asked, his eyes amused.

I nodded.

“Clothes and shit in the bag in the closet,” I told him.

“Well, you can unpack now since you’re officially a part of the Uncertain Saints MC. Welcome to the club,” Peek offered gruffly.

And that was how I was officially brought into the club.

“Your head still hurt?” Kitt asked against my chest.

I shook my head, even though it was killing me.

“I’m…”

I froze when Kitt started to convulse in my arms.

Her body stiffened, and her eyes went utterly blank.

I was up and moving before she’d even been in the seizure for less than ten seconds.

“Ridley!” I yelled, bouncing to my feet and yanking the bottle of meds off Kitt’s bedside table.

They were in every room in the house, and they were always accessible for this very reason.

“You got it?” Ridley asked from the other side.

I tried to hand it to him, but he shook his head.

“It’s better when you do it. She doesn’t get as embarrassed,” he assured me.

Gritting my teeth, I removed the syringe, yanked off the cap, placed some lubricating jelly on the tip that Ridley offered to me, and bent over the still convulsing Kitt.

My heart was hammering just like it always did when I was put into this position.

Pushing her over to her side, I moved her leg up and then set the tip against her anus, inserted it, and then pushed the meds into her.

The next few minutes passed as Ridley and I waited for the meds to take effect, and a collective breath of relief burst free from our chests as the convulsions finally stopped.

“God, they’re getting longer and longer,” Ridley mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “You need me?”

I shook my head and watched him leave.

Once he was gone, I pulled Kitt’s panties back into place, went to the bathroom and tossed the syringe into the trash, and then washed my hands.

All the while, I kept my eyes on Kitt to make sure she didn’t start up again.

Luckily, she didn’t, and I left the bathroom, immediately getting into bed beside her and pulling her into my chest.

The baby immediately let me know that she was okay by kicking me, and I felt my chest loosen all the way.

“God,” I breathed. “Goddammit.”

Sex is like a gas station. Sometimes you get full service, others you have to ask for service. And sometimes you have to be happy with self-service.

-Fact of Life

Ridley

My scanner squawked and I debated turning it off.

I was on my lunch break.

Or what I called my lunch break. Others might call it breakfast, but I’d been at work for over thirty-six hours now, and I’d only caught about an hour of shut eye since I’d arrived at work yesterday morning.

But something told me to leave it on. A sixth sense that had me leaving it on, as I shoved yet another hot dog into my face.

“All units in the area please respond. There’s a multi-vehicle wreck on Interstate Twenty about four miles outside of Jefferson,” a dispatcher said. “Any and all available units needed.”

I sighed.

“Shit,” I grumbled, taking the last hot dog that was on my plate with me as I left.

The cute little waitress that’d done her best to get me to look at her the entire time I sat there eating my lunch, waved at me as I left.

I nodded at her, not wanting to encourage her behavior.

Her father owned the one and only gas station/grocery store called ‘The Mall’ in fifteen square miles, and it was inevitable that I ended up there at least once a shift.

Hurrying to my car, I finished off my hot dog before I’d even pulled out of the parking lot.

Picking up my radio, I called in to the station.

“I’m responding to the call on the interstate,” I told the secretary that was there to answer our calls. “I’ll be out of district for at least a couple of hours.”

That was only a guess, though.

It could only be minutes, but would likely be quite a bit more than that.

When an accident happened on the interstate, it was probable that it involved more than one car.

I had my EMT license and would be of
some
help, even if only a little bit.

But by the time I arrived at the scene, I knew I’d be way more than just a few hours.

I’d be lucky if it was just six.

Finding the scene commander, I walked up to him and introduced myself.

“I’m Deputy Ridley Walker with the Harrison County Sheriff’s Office.
What do you need from me?” I asked.

As I introduced myself, my eyes slowly scanned the scene, taking in the complete and utter chaos.

That’s when my eyes lit on the familiar black truck that I’d let Capone borrow that morning. In fact, I’d pretty much demanded it, seeing as Capone had been nice enough to take Kitt to her doctor’s appointment in the first place.

There was no reason that the man should have to put all those miles on his truck.

My truck was distinctive.

It had a yellow ‘baby on board’ sign hanging in the back window, with a sticker that declared the driver of the vehicle as a ‘State Trooper Association Member.’

My dad had been a state trooper, and ever since he’d died, we’d been donating to the State Trooper’s Association.

My sister, Kitt, had demanded I put that on my truck, and I’d done it.

Why? Because I loved my sister.

Now, seeing that sticker, something raw started to roll through my belly.

I hit my knees beside the overturned truck before the Incident Commander could even tell me where to go.

The men that were already surrounding the car looked at me, startled at my abrupt arrival, when I landed, but turned back to their business as soon as they realized they weren’t coming to harm, but I was there to help.

My heart sank when I heard the paramedic’s first words.

“…man is dead. The woman isn’t though. Has a large gash across her forehead. My guess is she’s eight or nine months pregnant, too.”

“Eight,” I said roughly. “She’s eight.”

The paramedic looked at me over his shoulder and nodded. “You know her?”

I nodded tightly.

“She’s my sister.”

My belly rolling, I pulled out my phone and called the one person that was always there for me no matter what.

“Boyo?” Peek’s thickly accented voice called loudly into the phone. “You better make this good. I’m between my wife’s thighs, about three seconds away from being in the promise land.”

“My sister. She’s hurt. Accident,” I said gruffly. “You need to handle Apple.”

Things could be worse. How, you ask? Sex could be fattening.

-Text from Kitt to Apple

Apple

Seven hours prior

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be back at a normal time tonight,” Kitt said to me, grabbing my hat that’d been on the foot of the bed and placing it on the top of my head with a small smile gracing her beautiful lips.

My eyes shifted from the buttons I was trying to fasten to her face.

“And why’s that?” I asked, finishing the buttons and pulling her into my arms.

She came willingly, tipping my hat up with her finger before going up on her toes to give me a kiss.

“Because I have a special congratulatory dinner planned,” she informed me. “And I’ve got plans to move your clothes from your house to mine.”

I blinked, surprised.

“Yeah?” I asked. “How are you going to do that?”

She grinned.

“Your father has agreed to loan the use of his scooter,” she giggled. “But I’m not getting much. Just enough to get you through the weekend.”

“So you’re going to hold me hostage for five days?” I asked. “What are you going to do once those days are up?”

She pouted slightly.

“Send you back to work, I suppose,” she shrugged. “And not see you for days on end.”

I bent down and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“I stayed away and did overtime because I wanted to keep my mind occupied,” I explained to her gently. “I won’t have to do that anymore, unless I want to.”

Her eyes flared with an inner light that I couldn’t quite decipher before she was suddenly very naked.

Her shirt was ripped over her head and thrown to the floor before I even had a chance to protest.

“Work…” I said. “I have one more day of work. Then we can do as much fucking off as we want.”

She giggled.

“Did I tell you how sexy you look in only your work shirt, boxers, and a cowboy hat?” She asked, circling her finger around the emblem on my work shirt.

“No,” I snorted. “You didn’t mention that before.”

Personally, I thought I looked ridiculous, but there was a method to my madness.

Shirt on first, followed by underwear, pants, socks and then boots.

Since my shirt had to be tucked in, it seemed to easier to get that on first, and obviously Kitt approved of my methods.

I caught her hands when she started to go a little too far south, and she grinned.

“You’re going to be on time, promise,” she said, pulling her hands from mine and letting them trail down my sides. “You’ll make this quick.”

I groaned in defeat when she pressed her unbound breasts against my arm and dragged them along the coarse hair before walking to the bed and lying down.

The position made the t-shirt she was wearing slide up past her hips and expose her bared pussy to me.

“You’re sure?” I asked, putting a knee on the bed between her splayed thighs.

Her eyes, already hooded, lowered further.

Then she widened her legs in invitation.

An invitation that I didn’t ignore.

Crawling up between her legs, I stopped when my thighs touched hers.