Old Lady (Iron Disciples Book 2) (9 page)

When he finally has the water how he likes it he turns
around to help me get undressed and his mouth just about drops open. I love
that about men. When they want you they can’t disguise it. One look at Cade and
I know just how bad he wants me.

Every inch of my skin tingles as his eyes wander from my
eyes to my ass and back again. He opens his mouth to say something but I stop
him with my finger on his lips. One look below his belt is all the compliment I
need; he doesn’t have to say a word. I already know he wants to fuck me silly.

As our lips make their connection he begins to battle
with his clothes. It takes a little doing to get everything off without derailing
the freight train of our passion as it rockets up through the hedonistic
stratosphere. When he finally gets his pants down around his ankles I don’t let
him stop to unlace his boots. Instead I drop to my knees and behave like a good
old lady. As his moans and groans fill my ears the sound goes straight from my
brain to my box. I just love how easy it is to make even the strongest man a
slave to my tongue. Just to prove my prowess and my point I stop and pull back
away as he tries to force the issue by thrusting his hips forward, but I’m not
having it. I’m in control now.

“Geeze Morgan…” Cade pants.

I smile and turn my head to the side as he pokes me in
the ear.

“That’s not where my mouth is…”

“Morgan…”

I laugh and dodge another thrust before I open up and
take him in again. This time I let him thrust away, enjoying the feeling of him
pulsating against my tongue. I reach around and grab his ass with both hands
now as he prepares to blast off. I clinch and dig my nails in just before his
release, just to let him know I’m still in control of things.

“Fuck!” He swears as my talons draw little beads of blood
down the side of his sculpted cheeks. I have marked my territory!

I lie back on the bed and let my fingers explore as Cade
takes the time now to unlace his boots, kicking them off before he pulls off
his jeans and throws them across the bed. He knows better than to keep me
wanting or waiting. I spread my thighs as he dives in, tongue first and in
minutes it’s my turn to be a slave to my body’s demands. I don’t know how many
times I climax before he mounts me and rides me like a wildcat, but it feels
like every time we make love we reach some new pinnacle and this time is no
exception. At some point we exhaust our passions and our energies and collapse
in each other’s arms, panting, sweating. The smell of sex floats around the
room like a weather front. With each breath I inhale our combined scent and
find it strangely reassuring; familiar…safe. At some point I doze off because
when I look out the window the sun is just disappearing behind the low hills in
the distance. Cade is still asleep.

Troubling thoughts begin knocking on the barrier
surrounding my conscious mind. I’m going to have to lower the wall and deal
pretty soon. I can’t keep them at bay forever. I sigh, roll over and sit up. Am
I really going to tell him what I did? I don’t know if I have the courage to. I
feel Cade waking up beside me.

“Morgan?”

“I’m here.”

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Sure… just not tired.”

I can’t do this. I’m not gonna do this. Shooter is going
to have to break the news about Cades under the table dealings.

“Something’s on your mind Morgan, what is it?”

“How are things with you and your brother?” It’s not
really what is pressing on my mind but its close enough and he’ll buy it.”

“We hate each other, but the club is stronger than our
hate Morgan so you don’t have to worry about it. And there won’t be any more
death matches.”

Okay I’m going to take a chance here.

“So…how do you guys keep the peace with the other clubs?
You guys were practically at war with the Outkasts two weeks ago. Aren’t you
guys still at war?”

There, I should be able to get some information if he is
still going to be true to his word about full disclosure. We’ll see if he’s
going to tell the truth or throw me a bone to get me to shut up.

“We’re working it out. No one really wants an all-out
war.”

“And what about all the other gangs around here. Isn’t
the mafia around here too?”

That’s getting a little pushy. Hopefully he won’t suspect
a thing.

“What are you getting at Morgan?”

“I just want to make sure you are still doing that full
disclosure thing. I don’t want any secrets between us Cade. I like what we
have. Don’t fucking ruin it.”

“Something’s up Morgan! You’re getting at something and I
want to know what it is.”

“And you’re hiding something and I want to know what it
is?” I reply, raising my voice a little more than I intended.

“What makes you think I’m hiding anything from you?” He
asks, raising his voice to match the volume in mine.

“I just know you Cade. You’re always planning and
scheming for the club. It’s what makes you a good leader, but you have to tell
me what is going on. I don’t want to be blindsided by anything.”

“Why are you asking about the mafia?” He asks.

“I don’t know. I just pulled that out of my ass. Don’t
you gotta have dealings with all the powerful groups around here to stay in
power?”

“We’re not in bed with the Cartel Morgan. I just worked
out a deal with the Latin Kings and the Outkasts to keep the peace. There’s no
room for any cartel. I don’t know whe-”

He stops mid-sentence when his cell phone rings.

“What?” He snaps into the phone. Then after a short
pause. “Now? Right fucking now?” Another short pause. “Fine, I’ll be there in thirty.”

He drops his phone and searches around in the covers for
his pants and underwear.

“I gotta go to the clubhouse for some kind of urgent
meeting. Don’t wait up. This could take a while.”

Suddenly I get this cold sinking feeling in my gut.
Shooter has called an emergency meeting at the clubhouse. At least I think
that’s what is happening. He’s going to accuse Cade of going behind the club’s
back. That must mean he found proof other than what I told him. I guess Cade
really is getting into bed with the Cartel. I roll over and feign non-interest
as he finished getting dressed. He leans over and kisses me on my back.

“See you in the morning babe.” He says as he walks out.

I wait until I hear the roar from his Harley before
crawling off the bed and searching for my own clothes. I guess it’s time to go
back to my own house. It’s been nice playing house with Cade and Stacy but I
think I just wore out my welcome. I gotta get my shit together and be out of
here before Cade gets home. I hobble out of Cade’s room and work my way
upstairs hoping to find Stacy at home for a change. Ever since the patch over
ride she and Shooter have been joined at the hip. Getting her away from him
will be no small task, but since he’s at the emergency meeting she should be
alone now.

I make it to her room without incident. I’m pretty stable
now with the walking cast except when it comes to the stairs, and then things
can be a little dicey. At first I rap softly on her door. If she isn’t alone I don’t
want to wake Shooter. But he can’t be there. This time I use my fist and call
out to her.

“Stacy, it’s me. Open up!”

I wait for a couple seconds then try once more, although
I’m pretty sure she is at Shooter’s house.

“Stacy open up! I need help!”

Nothing. Well, I’m just gonna have to pack up as much of
my shit as I can and call a cab. It ends up taking about a half hour to set
aside the things I can’t possibly live without. A half hour later the cabbie is
helping pile my shit in the trunk. Basically I just took my two laptops, my
work one and a personal one, and my wireless printer. One suitcase of clothes
and a couple tote bags of miscellaneous stuff. Maybe later Stacy can bring me
the stuff I left behind. But for now just my bare bones stuff I need to
survive. I guess I’ll be going back to work sooner than expected. I just hope
all that stuff that Cade said about Stacy and me needing the clubs protection
is just an over exaggeration. When I get home I’ll call Stacy and tell her I’m
home and okay. She can stay and still take her vacation days, but I’m going
back to work Monday.

It’s about eleven when I finally get home and get my shit
in the house. I go to the kitchen first thing and grab a bottle of wine. No
glass for me this evening. I need to do some serious drinking if I’m gonna be
able to sleep on this. I’m sorely tempted to turn off my phone, but I really
need to keep it on for Cade’s call. I need to know the exact moment he’s coming
after me so I can make a plan. If I turn off my phone he’ll be able to
blindside me.

I plop down on the couch and turn on CNN. I can’t believe
I haven’t watched any cable programming in over a week. I used to live on a
diet of CNN, Fox News, and MSNBC. I take a long pull on the bottle as some cute
reporter is filling in for the regular guy. They’re going on again about the
super high speed micro trades that computers are doing in the market now days.
The computers can buy and sell shares when the stocks move a fraction of a
point and at a rate no floor guy could ever manage. In the space of a second
the right computer can buy a half a million shares of Cisco for example and
turn around and sell it, then buy it again only to resell again. Those two
trades alone of about $20 million can net a quick profit of about twenty-five
to fifty thousand dollars all in the blink of an eye. That kind of shit I am
sure is what’s responsible to the recent volatility in the market, especially
in the biotech and technology sectors. If only my little laptops could trade
that fast.

Before long my head begins a lazy, pleasant spin. I
glance down at the bottle and I have already downed about a third of it. I’m
pretty sure I’m going to pay for this tomorrow, but right now I don’t give a
fuck. About half way into the next news story about some steroid scandal in the
French Open, I hear a knock on my door. Who the hell is that? I look at the
clock it’s nearly two in the morning. I start to get up and the bottle I was
nursing falls out of my lap; it’s empty. The second I stand I realize it’s a
bad idea. The room has gone from a pleasant rotation to madly spinning out of
control. I slump back into the couch unable to get my balance. The knocking
continues but I can’t do a damn thing about it.

“Go away!” I yell, before I realize I probably should pretend
I’m not home. Oh well…too late now.

I listen for a few more minutes but the knocking seems to
have stopped and no one has crashed my door down so that’s a good sign. Just in
case, I look around for anything I can use as a weapon. Seems like I remember
someone giving me a gun with no serial number on it. Or was that a dream? I’m
not sure so I check my purse. The deadliest thing there is a tube of lipstick.
I close my eyes and will my head to stop turning.

“Morgan honey.”

My eyes fly open. “Mom?”

“Who were you expecting sweetie, the boogie man?”

I can’t believe my mom is alive. All these years I was
sure she died of cancer and now she’s here with me.

“Mom…I thought…”

“You thought I was dead?”

“But I went to your funeral. I saw the open casket. I
cried for you momma…I cried…”

Something strange is going on here. Suddenly my face
feels wet. I look up expecting to see a drip coming from a leaky ceiling but
that can’t be. It’s not even raining. My heart begins to pound as I bring a
shaking hand to my face; it’s wet. My face is fucking wet.

“Sweetie what are you doing?” My mother asks.

“I think I’m crying momma.”

“Well that’s a natural response when someone you love has
died.”

The second she says that her smile suddenly vanishes and
her face begins to melt. I recoil in horror jerking my hands back away from
her. Her skin is dripping off her skull and making a nasty puddle on the wood
floor. In a panic I scramble away from her to the other end of the couch. She
just looks at me with her decaying skull and asks in a pleading voice.

“Morgan honey, don’t you love your mother anymore?”

“But you’re not my mom…Please go away…” My voice trails
off as I sink down into the far end of the couch like I’m trying to just melt
into the cushions.

The creature that was my mother is hovering over the
couch getting closer and closer to me. My heart is hammering painfully against
my sternum. It feels like the bone is going to crack if I can’t make myself
relax. I bring my arms in front of my face, crossing them like I’m trying to
defend myself from attack. Abruptly there’s a loud knocking on my door. The
apparition that is my mother freezes for a second, then surges towards me. Now
her dripping face is inches from my outstretched arms. There’s another knocking
on my door. This time the creature stops, then before my terrified eyes she
vanishes!

I let out a huge explosive breath and my heart begins to
slow down. I reach up and touch my face again. My fingers come up dry. I guess
I wasn’t crying after all. I start to relax again when I hear my front door
opening.