Page 20 of Sinful Deeds
I can’t get the image of Raven out of my head. My hard cock makes it impossible to deny that I’m drawn to her. I can’t forget the way her plump ass grazed against my cock or how I want to suck on those perfect tits. Good God, the woman is sexy as hell. How is it I never noticed her before? What I need right now is a good fuck to clear my head. If that doesn’t do the trick, I’m screwed.
I stomp up the steep drive to find the gate around the clubhouse unattended again. Fucking cock suckers don’t get it. With ATF breathing down our necks and the Demon Sons running out of patience, vigilance is the only thing keeping us safe.
I’m busy stewing in my anger when I punch in the code to open the gate. I cross the parking lot, pass the line of bikes, and enter the clubhouse. The place is empty, except for one prospect cleaning up behind the bar. “Where is everyone?”
“Church.” Denny replies, stacking clean beer mugs under the bar.
I walk down the hallway toward Church. They’re caught off guard when I walk through the door. Gunner draws his gun, pointing the barrel between my eyes. I raise my hand to touch his shoulder but change my mind when I spot his fingers twitching against the trigger. Darkness creeps across his face and I can tell he’s caught between the present and the past. PTSD is a bitch. “Gunner, It’s Chainz. Lower the gun now, brother. I’m going to hell one of these days, but I don’t want it to be tonight.” I speak to him in a soothing tone, while his mind comes back to the present.
Light returns to his eyes, and he lowers his gun. “Fuck Prez, I’m sorry. I almost shot you.”
“Lucky for me you didn’t.” Gunner would never hurt any of us on purpose, but his episodes are unpredictable. I thought he had a handle on it, but the stress we’re under is taking its toll on his mind.
I pat him on the shoulder, reassuring him. He can’t help what he’s seen or what he’s done. We all have demons to tend to.
“Didn’t expect you back so soon.” Tank acknowledges me as I take my seat at the head of the table and everyone settles down. “I called Teagan.”
Teagan is a hotshot lawyer and Freedom’s cousin. She’s stepped in to help the club out a time or two. Mostly because Freedom is known for getting himself locked up.
“Good thing we don’t pay her by the hour. They let me walk before she showed.” I draw a cigarette out of the pack in front of Tank. I light my smoke and take a long, hard drag. “What happened to your knuckles?” I ask, exhaling the smoke.
He clenches his fist, sliding them under the table. “My temper got the best of me.”
Tank shifts in his seat. There’s something he’s leaving out, but I won’t press the issue for now. “We were just discussing the situation with Fuel and Raven.” He informs me.
I nod and face Crusher. “What did you find?”
“The name on her employment records is Raven James. Hound ran her social security number and she doesn’t exist.” He pauses for a moment and then reaches into his pocket. “We found Fuel’s wallet at her house. Empty.” He tosses it across the table.
“Have you ever known Fuel to not have a wad of cash?” Tank adds.
I turn the faded leather wallet over in my hand and lay it back down. He has a point, but I table that for now. There are more important things to discuss then the accusation that Raven stole from the club.
I lean back in my chair, taking another long pull of the cigarette. “Her name is Tessa Jameson. The Agent who took me in for questioning has a real hard on for her. Find out why. While you’re at it, see what dirt you can dig up on him. He’s involved with Fuels disappearance.”
“He admitted it?” Cobra asks.
“He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes said enough.” I crush the butt of the cigarette in the ashtray. “He said Raven is wanted for murder.”
“Fucking cunt. I knew we shouldn’t trust her.” Tank bursts out.
“Watch it, brother.” I level him with a deadly stare.
“Don’t forget what happened last time you fell for the damsel in distress act? We all got fucked.” His words are like a sledgehammer to my chest. I’d never forget. None of us ever could.
“This is different,” I bite out, “Raven is not Amera.”
“Are you sure about that?” If I was so certain I wouldn’t be struggling with my choice. One I should bring to the table, but his outburst has me seeing red instead of reason. “Tell me that’s not how you busted your knuckles?”
“I won’t apologize for not letting it happen again.”
I lunge across the table, throwing a punch to his face that knocks him backwards in his chair. There’s no coordination in my moves, it’s pure blind rage that has me drawing back my arms and reigning my fist down on his face blow after blow. Tank gets in a few swings of his own, his fist colliding with my jaw. As the taste of blood fills my mouth, I stop hammering him and cup my face, waving a metaphoric white flag. Tank is my brother and my VP. His only crime is trying to protect me but damn if it doesn’t feel like a betrayal.
I rise to my feet, spitting the blood in my mouth on the floor by his side. “If you ever lay a hand on her again, I’ll fucking kill you. Understood?”
Tank lifts himself up with his elbows propped on the floor. “Yeah, man. I didn’t know.”
“Well, you do now.” I lift the gavel and slam it down on the table. “We’ll continue this later.”
