Blood in the Water (Kairos) (23 page)

He finished the call and rested his elbows on the table, his hands folded around his phone.  “We gotta consider that it might have been these Mexicans that are out for the Rojas business.”

“That it might.”  Samuel agreed.

“They fucked up, then.”  Dean said.  The two Prospects remained silent.  This was information that they hadn’t previously been privy to.

“Maybe.  Maybe this is just a shot across the bows, a warning.  Or maybe we were lucky.”  Paul didn’t want to point out just how close Samuel had come to being a smear on the blacktop, if not under the wheels of the Chrysler, then under the Prius that he’d nearly hit.

“Nothin’ we can do about it until Crash gets back to us boys.”  Samuel leaned back in his seat.  “No point turnin’ our cogs on that when we need our full attention on the road now.  Maybe it was the Mexicans, and maybe it was just some fuck-up who can’t drive for shit.  Either way, we need to pay attention.”

Paul nodded.  “And either way we need to get this load off our hands.  Doesn’t matter what takes us out; if law finds us with what we’re carryin’ we might as well be dead.” 

“Indeed.”  Samuel agreed.  “We’ve rested our lazy asses enough here.  We need to get back on the road.”

No one disagreed, and they were soon underway again.

~o0o~

The rest of the journey was as uneventful as could be hoped for.  It was midafternoon by the time they’d completed the handover, which had taken place at the end of an anonymous service road.  They handed off their illegal cargo without a hitch and rejoined the highway eastbound.  They got some miles under their belts before Samuel signaled them to pull over onto the shoulder. 

They took a few steps away from their bikes and the noise of the passing traffic before Samuel spoke.

“I’ll make this quick.  We got another day’s worth of ridin’ ‘fore we’re back home; but we got two options.  We call it quits for today, find ourselves somewhere with loud music and cold beer and some sort of bed; or we push on through and sleep in our own beds, hopefully ‘fore midnight.  My vote is to push through.  I’ve an itch to get home to my wife, but if you boys are done in we’ll find somewhere to rest.”

This was one of the things that Paul admired about Samuel.  He sounded all friendly and shit, like he was giving them the option; but really he was telling them what he wanted to do and calling them pussies if they couldn’t keep up.  No one was going to disagree with him.  Paul wouldn’t have voted against him anyway, it’d hurt, but sleeping in his own bed would be worth it, doubly so if he could persuade Ashleigh to join him. 

He couldn’t answer, though, without acknowledging some concern about the distance they had yet to travel.  “Boss, I ain’t callin’ shit here.  All I’m sayin’ is that you took a hell of a spin earlier.  You wanna push through?  I got your back.  But I’m askin’ you to consider whether or not you wanna rest.”

He’d expected Samuel to maybe take even some small offense, but he didn’t appear to take any.  “I won’t lie, that shook me up some.  But all the more reason to get back. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“That I do.  I’d far rather be nearer friends than stuck out here in the middle of no place.”

“Hell yeah.”  Dean agreed.  “I ain’t gonna feel right ‘til we’re back on home turf.”

“You boys?”  Samuel asked the Prospects.

“Your call, Boss.”  Sinatra replied. 

“Yeah.”  Morse agreed.  “You tell us you wanna go home, then that’s where we’ll go.”

“Then we’re homeward bound.  Strap on your big girl panties, boys, this is gonna sting a little.”

~o0o~

And sting it did.  By the time they pulled up in front of the Priests clubhouse, only just on the right side of midnight, Paul didn’t think he ever wanted to see his bike again, let alone ride it.  He backed it into his spot in the line of bikes that were standing guard outside.  He wasn’t surprised to see Moira’s Chevy parked up opposite, but he hadn’t been expecting Ashleigh’s Buick which was next to it. 

Samuel had called Terry when they were still a couple of hours away and had asked him to gather everyone for a quick meet in the Chapel. He’d called Moira too to let her know he was going to be home half a day earlier than expected and even on the other side of the diner table Paul had been able to hear her strident tone as she questioned Samuel’s motives and his sanity.

They didn’t exactly limp into the clubhouse, but they were all a little saddle sore.  Moira and Ashleigh were perched on stools at the bar; the other patches were grouped closer to the Chapel doors in expectation and readiness.  Samuel didn’t break his stride as he headed to the double doors of their sanctum, but he did cast a nod at Moira.  Samuel hadn’t told her about his skid when they’d spoken; Paul wasn’t sure if she would look more pissed than she already did if he had.  Ashleigh’s expression was all concern.  Paul winked at her, needing to let her know that she could release the frantic worry that was etched on her face.  The smile she gave him was worth those long, hard hours in the saddle.

It was late so there was no chatter or joking around.  Everyone seated themselves quickly.  Samuel didn’t bother with the gavel.

“I’ll make this quick, boys.  We had a little encounter on the road today.  Someone tried to run me off it.”  There were exclamations from those that hadn’t known the detail of the reason that they’d been called into a meeting so late at night when their president should have been three states away.

“Settle down.  What’ve you got for us, Crash?  Anythin’?”

Crash leaned forward, rubbing his fingers over and through each other in what Paul had come to recognize as a characteristic tic.  “Yeah, I ran those plates.  They came back to a black Chrysler SUV.  One that was stolen in Mobile, Alabama that mornin’.”

“Well that tells us what we need to know.”  Samuel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  “It was no retard on his phone.  That had to be deliberate.  We ain’t got no beefs that we know of, ‘cept the trouble we knew was headin’ our way from Mexico.”

“You thinkin’ we need to lockdown, Boss?”  Dizzy asked.

“No.  Not yet.  But I don’t think it’d be a bad thing to stock up on some supplies in case we have to.”  Samuel’s tone was weary.

“I’ll get the Prospects on it tomorrow.”  Terry stated.

“That’s the other thing I wanted to speak to you all about.  Might as well do it tonight.”  Samuel leaned back, rubbing his palms over the arms of his the large wooden chair he occupied.  “I wanna call the Prospects to a vote.  I still think we’re short on bodies and all three of those boys are comin’ up fast on their year.  Sinatra and Morse did good today.  I wanna hear what y’all think.”

Samuel looked to Terry first; he answered as Morse’s sponsor.  Each patch took his turn to state his vote on each of the three Prospects, the vote on Sinatra being led by Dizzy and the vote on Geoff being led by Kong.  By the time the spotlight returned to Samuel, the consensus was in.  Sinatra and Morse had been unanimously voted in.  Geoff had turned into a slightly more complicated issue.  Dizzy had voted against him and nearly everyone else had added a caveat to their ‘yea’ vote.  It wasn’t an automatic rejection, but it wasn’t a ringing endorsement. After a short discussion everyone agreed to vote again on Geoff’s rocker in a month’s time.

Samuel ended the meeting with a tired smile.  “We’ll give the boys the good news on Friday, we’ll celebrate then.  Now I wanna get me a cold beer and a warm woman in that order.  Pleasure doin’ business with you boys.  Now get the fuck outta here.”

Having been dismissed, everyone filtered back into the main room.  The late hour and the promise of big trouble in the not too distant future added up to a subdued atmosphere.  Anyone who wasn’t planning on sleeping at the clubhouse headed home. 

Moira rose when Samuel came out of the Chapel.  He brushed off her questions and she dropped the subject of his early return.  As much as she was showing the proper respect in the clubhouse, Paul didn’t doubt she was brewing a tongue-lashing for Samuel once they were behind closed doors.  Ashleigh was a little more circumspect with her opinions.  Before Samuel could steer Moira out of the door, his daughter hugged him tightly.  That sight left a rancid feeling in Paul’s gut.  He knew better than most just how much danger Samuel and the club were in.  He could remove himself from the equation, but he couldn’t guarantee that that would reduce the risk substantially anymore.

“You up for some company tonight?”  He’d been staring into space and hadn’t realized that Ashleigh had come up to him.

“Sure, beauty.  Not sure whether I’ll be much fun to be around, though.”  He was exhausted, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, turn her away.

“Good.”  The sultry smile she gave him did much to revive his tired spirits.   “Your place again?  I don’t think you’ll fit in my bed.”

“I’d like to try.  But you’re right.  Tonight is not that night.”

He followed her out of the now almost empty clubhouse.  He stifled his wince as he swung onto his bike.  He loved this machine, it held a particular corner of his heart that nothing else would claim, but he could sure use a few hours before he sat on it again.

The ride home felt mercifully short after the distances he’d covered that day.  Ashleigh followed him to his house.  They didn’t speak until they were in the bedroom.  It felt surreally conventional in some ways, coming home as a couple after a hard day at work; but the faint lingering aroma of their sex that still perfumed the air in the room filled him with thoughts that were anything but.  Sometime soon he wanted to linger, to take his time and explore every inch of this woman’s body; but for now, he wanted only to follow her lead as she stripped and climbed into the bed.  He laid his kutte in its customary place over the chair in the corner of the room.  The rest of his clothes he left where they fell.  On his way to the bed he drew the curtains, intending to keep the emergent day at bay for as long as possible.

He slid under the comforter and pulled her close.  The sight of her body as she had revealed it had caused the majority of his blood to rush south.  The feel of her satin skin against his own rough hide made him absolutely rigid with a need that he wouldn’t have believed he could have been capable of.

He made to roll Ashleigh over, but she pushed at his shoulder.  “Just lay back, baby.  You’ve had a hard day.”

Who was he to argue with the lady? 

“Condom?”  She asked when she’d straddled him.  Since she was rubbing her delightfully wet pussy up and down his cock, which was trapped between their bodies, it took him a moment to form an answer from actual words.

“Nightstand.”  He grunted.

She grinned and leaned over him, resting her weight on a palm on his chest as she reached into the drawer and pulled a foil packet out.  Paul groaned at the wet heat that seemed to engulf him even though he wasn’t yet inside her.

She was sporting a wicked grin as she shifted back to give herself access to roll the latex over him.  The feel of those slim fingers on his sensitive flesh was divine torment.  When she rose up and grabbed his cock to hold it steady, Paul couldn’t help but take her hips in a death grip.  He was probably bruising her.  He didn’t give a flying fuck.  As she sank down on his cock with a moan, he had to admit that it didn’t look like she cared either.

The day caught up with him once he was buried to the hilt inside her.  Concern, fear, guilt, anger, relief, tension, desire, care, and maybe something else...; it all combined at the base of his cock.  Ashleigh was riding him in a languid way that felt utterly blissful, but it wasn’t enough for this moment. 

He tightened his grasp on her hips still more and pulled her body down as he thrust upwards.  At the first deep hit inside her, Ashleigh almost threw herself backwards, she arched so hard.  Paul kept tight hold of her and pulled her down as he drove into her over and over and over.   In moments they were both grunting savagely, lost in the primal intensity of the fuck.  Her skin was flushed and her delicious tits were bouncing in time with their movements, her sweet nipples standing proud.

“Oh yeah, beauty. Fuck. Fuck!  Look at you.”  Her wild abandon was mesmerizing.