Beautiful Outlaw (13 page)

When we reach the lobby, I see Tin-Man through the glass doors.  He’s straddling his bike, with his hand on his hip.  My step does not falter as I lead Shay outside.  “You’re gonna ride with Tin.”

“What’s going on?” She asks, the first words she has spoken since we left her mother’s room.

I don’t want to tell her.  Fuck, if I could I wouldn’t tell her shit but she needs to know.  “That fucker is heading to the hospital.  Lock wants you out of here right now.”

“What? How?” She mumbles out, her voice small and full of fear. 

“I don’t know, baby, but we gotta get you on the road.”

I look down at her as we approach Tin-Man’s bike.  She is shaking like a leaf, barely keeping herself together.  I know she’s afraid, but there isn’t a damn thing I can do to fix that right now.  “Just ride with Tin until I can get my bike and catch up with you.”

“I wanna stay with you.”

I know she’s hurting, know she’s scared, but I got to get her ass on the bike and out of here before that bastard gets here.  “Get on the fuckin’ bike right now.”

She doesn’t respond, just takes my brother’s outstretched hand and climbs on.  Her movements are jerky, as if she is forcing herself to do as I say.  I take a step forward and place my hand on her chin, forcing her to look up at me. 

“You’re safe.  Tin won’t let anything happen to you.”

She nods then pulls her chin from my grip.  She turns her head away and I see her hand go to her face.  I know she is wiping away the tears she has been hiding since we walked out of her Mom’s room.  I finally move my eyes from her and look to my brother.  “Keep her safe.”

He lifts a fist to his heart.  “With my life.”

No other words are spoken before his engine roars to life and they ride away.  I stand for a minute, watching the headlights of his bike fade into the night, before running across the parking lot. I pull out a smoke and put it to my lips, before stepping up to my bike. I light it and take a quick drag, before grabbing my cutt off the handles and sliding it over my shoulders. Just as I lift my leg to climb on, my phone rings.  I swing my leg over as I pull it from my pocket and see Lock’s name flash across the screen.

Instead of saying hello, I give him an update.  “She’s with Tin-Man.  They’re heading toward Shooter now.”

Lock’s voice is filled with pain, when he responds.  “Mom’s gone.  Dad said it happened the minute Laura walked out of the room.  She was just hanging on to see her girl one more time.”

Fuck.. fuck..fuck!  “I’m so sorry, man.”

He’s quiet for a long moment before saying, “Thank you, brother.  Thank you for giving my mom that.  Thank you for letting her see Laura before she died.”

I can hear the tears in his voice and they cut me to the core.  “Anything for you, Lock.  You know that.”

I hear him suck in a breath before he says, “Marcus is on the move, so you need to hit the road.  I’ll be in Catawba tomorrow sometime.”

“Talk to you soon, brother.”

He doesn’t bother replying, just ends the call.  As I slide my phone back in my pocket, I see a black four door Mercedes turn into the hospital parking lot.  I’m not sure why, but my gut is telling me that is the fucker I want to kill.  I fight against the urge to pull my piece out, knowing Shay and her family don’t need that shit right now. Instead, I lean my head back and pull in a deep draw from my smoke.  Then, I rev up the engine and head to my girl.  

Don’t Say It

Shay

I hold onto Tin-Man as we pull up to a deserted single-wide trailer.  The grass is un-cut, giving it an unkempt look, but I can tell that this was once a cherished home.  There are flowers planted by the steps and a sign hanging on the door that says,
Home Sweet Home.
The trailer may not be fancy, but the people that lived here took pride in what they had. 

Just like Bowie, Tin-Man pats my leg as soon as he cuts the engine of his bike.  “Jump off, Shay.”

I push myself off, holding onto him until my legs quit shaking. Finally, I step back and look at him.  He has his phone out and staring at the screen.   I can tell by looking at him that something is wrong.  Well, I already knew that but I think this is something new.  “What’s going on?”

His eyes jerk to mine and I can see a flash of sadness in them.  My stomach tightens as he climbs off the bike without saying a word.  He walks over to me and wraps his arms around my middle.  Staying silent, he holds onto me. 

Finally, he breaks the silence.  “Be strong,
hermana
.”

His words come out sounding like a warning.  I want to ask, beg him to tell me what is wrong.  Instead, I stay quiet. I can feel his hands running up and down my back, comforting me without words.  He stays in that position until the roar of a motorcycle fills the air. 

I pull away, but Tin-Man doesn’t release me as Bowie pulls into the driveway.  I watch as Bowie climbs from his bike and lifts his chin to his brother.  Tin-Man mimics his chin lift, before slowly pulling away and climbing on his bike.  Not a word is said, as he starts the engine and backs out of the driveway. 

Finally, Bowie breaks the silence as he wraps me in his arms.  “We need to talk, baby.”

His words send a chill of foreboding down my spine.  I ask the question that has been on my mind since his phone rang in the hospital.  “Does Marcus know I’m alive?”

He shakes his head and pulls away.  Grabbing my hand, he leads me to the trailer.  Before stepping onto the porch, he reaches to the flower pot on the bottom step and pulls a key from the loose dirt.  Then, he leads me to the door and unlocks it.  He pushes me inside and directs me to the couch. 

Feeling the tension coming from him, I try to focus on my surroundings.  I see scattered toys, battered furniture, and a few scattered DVDs in front of an old TV.  The house isn’t messy, but it is lived in.  Well, it was lived in at one time.  Dust covering the picture frames on the wall makes it obvious that no one has been here for a while.  As Bowie sits down on the couch and pulls me beside him, I spot a pair of woman’s shoes by the chair in the corner. 

“Whose house is this?”

He pulls me into his side and wraps an arm around my shoulder.  “Has Lock ever told you about Shooter?”

“Of course,” I mumble out, remembering the stories my brother told me about his friend.  Shooter is another soldier that served with him and Bowie.  They were as close as brothers, and going by what all Bowie has done for me, I assume they still are. 

“This is his old lady’s place.  She’s staying with him now, so we’re going to stay here until tomorrow.”

“What happens tomorrow?” I ask, wondering what my future holds.

“Your brother is going to come visit for a bit then we’re heading home.”

Home?  Is Kentucky my home now?  I think back to morning coffee with Nina, mani and pedis with Rachel, Tin-Man calling me sister, and frequent visits from the guys at the MC.  Then, I feel the warmth of Bowie beside me and realize it is.  Kentucky is my home. 

“We need to talk about something, baby,” Bowie says, bringing my mind back to the conversation. 

“What did Marcus do?”  I ask, assuming that my husband had caused some problem. 

“It’s not him, Shay.” His voice is soft, almost a whisper.  He is looking at me, searching my face. 

The drastic change in him is scaring me.  “What’s wrong?”

“Baby, your mom.”

Before he can say anymore, I jump from the couch.  I shake my head back and forth and shout.  “No!  Don’t say it, don’t say it.”

He’s up in an instant and has his arms wrapped around me.  “I’m sorry, Shay.”

I shake my head against his hard chest, tears streaming down my face un-checked.  “No, Bowie.  She’s okay; I just saw her.  I know she’s okay.”

“Baby,” He whispers out.  “I’m sorry, but she’s gone.”

His words feel like a ten-ton weight on my shoulders, crushing me.  I nearly fall to the floor, but he hooks his arm under my knees and lifts me up.  Carrying me close to his chest, he walks through the trailer.  A moment later, he is crawling onto a bed.  He keeps me snuggled closely to his chest as he rocks my body back and forth.  “Shhh.”

I lean against him, giving him my weight.  I let the tears fall as memories of my mom fill my mind.  Baking chocolate chip cookies, braiding my hair, teaching me to swim, dancing in the living room to silly songs from the fifties…  On and on, my mind moves from one memory to another.  Flashes of my beautiful mother plays in my head as I cry myself to sleep.

Better Man

Bowie

She keeps crying until she finally falls asleep in my arms.  Raising my hand to my chest, I feel the dampness Shay left behind.  Hell, I didn’t know a person could shed that many tears.  I hold her even as she sleeps, afraid that the tears will come back when she wakes up. 

After only a few minutes, I feel her shift in my arms.  I tighten my grip but she wiggles loose. The moment her eyes open, she crawls from my lap without saying a word.  I watch as she walks out of the bedroom and opens the first door she comes to, closing it she moves onto the next.  She walks inside and shuts the door behind her.  A minute later, I hear the shower start. 

I lean against the headboard and close my eyes, trying to work the image of her in so much pain out of my brain.  As I sit there, I hear a muffled sob.  My body goes alert and I sit up.  Another sob, this one louder, reaches my ear.  They continue to get louder, filled with more pain.  I hold myself still, forcing myself not to go to her, but my resolve breaks when I hear my name whispered in a heart wrenching voice. 

In an instant, I am off the bed and down the hall.  I grab the doorknob and try to turn it, but it’s locked.  Fuck!  Pulling my knife out, I pop the lock and go inside.  The shower curtain in closed and the water is running, but the sound of her pain fills the room. 

“Shay?”

She whimpers and I watch as her shadow slides down the wall.  I can barely make out her form, curled into a ball in the tub.  Not thinking, I kick off my boots and throw my cutt onto the sink.  Pulling my shirt over my head, I toss it onto the floor with Shay’s discarded clothes.  Then, I place my gun and knife on top of my cutt.  Dumping the contents of my pockets beside them, I pull the shower curtain back. 

Shay looks up and says, “It hurts so bad.”

Not caring about the water, I step inside with my jeans still on and pull her up.  As I wrap my arms around her, she lifts her hands to my face.  “Make it stop hurting, make me forget.”

Shit!  I know what she’s asking, but I also know she’ll regret it later.  It’s grief talking now, and I can’t give her what she wants.  “Now’s not the time, baby.”

She stares up at me, searching my face.  “You promised.”

“What?” I ask, not following her.

“You promised Mom that you would make me happy.”

I shake my head.  “You don’t want this, Shay.  Not like this, not when you’re hurting so bad.”

Her hand moves down to my jean covered cock, and she gives me a tight squeeze.  “No, I need this. It hurts so bad; please, take it away. Help me.”

I look into her determined eyes, as my dick hardens.   If I were a better man I would put up more of a fight, but I’m not and fuck if I don’t want her worse than I have ever wanted anything in my life. Lowering my head, I place my lips on hers.  As soon as I make contact, she opens her mouth and sends her tongue across the seam of my lips.  I follow her lead, tasting her.  Shit, she tastes just as good as I remember.  With that taste, I’m no longer following her lead; I’m leading her. My teeth nip at her mouth claiming every hot inch of it.

My hands skate down her back and over the curve of her ass, my fingers bite into her flesh as I squeeze and knead her flesh. I push her back into the wall, pinning her in place with my mouth and hips. It’s in that moment I realize I have Shay naked and needy in my arms. My already hard cock throbs behind my zipper. The stiff peaks of her nipples graze against my chest and I groan. Shit, she’s fuckin’ perfection.

Pulling my lips from hers, I nip a trail to her ear, sucking the delicate lobe before whispering, “What do you need, baby? Say it and it’s yours.”

Without hesitating she replies, “You. I want you inside me.” Her hand snakes between our bodies and she pulls at the button on my jeans.

Fuck yeah, my girl is needy.  I pull back just a hair, enough to allow her access.  “You got me, Shay.”

“I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my life,” She confesses while trying to free the button, the wet denim making her task difficult.  

Finally, the button pops and her hand slides inside. As her fingers circle my cock, she lets out a strangled gasp. After a quick pump of her small fist she releases me and pushes my jeans down. As soon as my cock springs free between us, her hands cup my cheeks, eyes pleading, “Please, Bowie.”

My girl needs me, and I’m going to give her everything I got. Gripping behind her thighs, I lift her off the ground.  I pin her shoulders to the tile as her legs wrap tight around my waist. My cock makes the barest contact with her hot folds and grows impossibly harder. I’ve never been so fuckin’ hard in all my life, it’s like my cock just knows this is the pussy we’ve been waiting for. Grabbing myself, I run the head through her soaked slit.

Not wanting to wait, she tilts her hips causing my cock to slip just inside her heat. Still impatient, she pushes herself closer, forcing me deeper. She’s so fuckin’ tight, I know she’s going to hurt herself if she doesn’t slow down. Grasping her hips I set a slow pace, sinking a bit further with each stroke. “Fuck, baby. Your pussy is amazing."

"Please," She begs, fighting against the grip I have on her and the slow pace I've set.

Giving into her desire, I fill her hot pussy to the root. Being inside her is like nothing I've ever felt before. It's like her pussy was made just for my cock. It's mine and no one, no-fuckin’ one will ever take it from me.

Pulling out to the very tip, I pause a moment before slamming back inside her. "You're mine, baby. This pussy is mine. Say it, Shay."