Lights to My Siren (29 page)

“Yeah,” he croaked, cleared his throat, and continued. “Just a little bump on the head.”

I wasn’t so sure it was just a bump on the head. To be sure, I walked behind Kettle only to gasp. “Kettle! You’ve got a huge gash at the back of your head and a knot the size of Alaska! You should be in bed, not here.”

He laughed humorlessly. “This is where I belong. I failed my best friend. I didn’t watch his back. I was supposed to have his back.” He rasped.

“You did have my back, dumbass. Why do you think I got hit in the chest?” A thready voice rasped from the bed.

I gasped and moved carefully around Kettle to walk to Sebastian’s bedside. “What happened, Sebastian?”

My hand involuntarily started drifting over his arm and up to his chest.

Sebastian wasn’t looking at me when he replied. He was looking at Kettle.

“You let the President know it was Devon McRae.” Sebastian’s voice was like ice.

The name Devon McRae was familiar, and it took me a few long moments to realize just who the man was.

His boss.

Holy shit.

Kettle stiffened at the mention of that name. “That’s the arsonist, too?”

“Have you ever seen him there at one of those fires, even once? Cause I sure as fuck haven’t. He always shows up at least an hour after the fire starts. Sick fucking bastard.” Sebastian replied.

When Kettle started to rise painfully to his feet, I snarled at him. “You sit your ass down before you fall. I’ll go tell the ‘President’ who it was. Don’t fucking move.”

I glared at them both, gave Sebastian a soft kiss on the lips, and left the room. My steps were purposeful as I went down the long hallway back to the waiting room.

I wasn’t really sure what I was expecting when I got back to the waiting room the ER nurse had guided them to once they’d arrived, but this wasn’t this. Possibly, I could’ve assumed that the same people that were there earlier, were there now. That was a big resounding no. They’d multiplied. By at least three.

They no longer fit in the small waiting room. Now they spilled out into the hall.

Some of the other chapters had stayed to do a little gambling and visiting while they were here; so, when I found them all here, most of them wet from the hurricane outside, my heart warmed. They were there for Sebastian. They were family. No matter what conditions tried to keep them from their destination. They’d always be there.

Silas was talking to Stone at the end of the hallway, heads close together as they spoke softly.

I didn’t hear anything of what they were saying, and they broke apart as soon as they saw me walking down the hall.

I was still mad. The situation was beyond out of hand, and something needed to be figured out, fast. That man, the one man Sebastian should’ve been able to trust with his life, had been the one to nearly take it.

And I could care less what the club was about to do to him. Personally, I hoped he burned in hell.

Silas must have seen the resolve on my face, and the pain, because he was at my side in moments holding on to me elbows.

I looked back and forth from him to Stone, hesitating.

When Silas gave me a reassuring squeeze and nodded, I told them everything I knew. “He’s not really...with us, yet. He’s still weak and tired, they started him on the blood, and the nurse thinks as soon as he gets that into him, he’ll get some life breathed back into him. Kettle’s doing...okay. He needs a bed, but as you can guess, he’s not up to leaving Sebastian right now. If you want to go back, I’ll wait out here.”

Both men had taken me up on the offer. Murder was in their eyes, and I really didn’t want to be in on that conversation. The less I knew the better.

That didn’t mean I didn’t want the man to pay for what he’d done to Sebastian, Kettle, and all those innocent people. It just meant that I didn’t want to be witness to what I knew they were about to do.

Payback’s a bitch.

***

Silas

Two hours later

“You know who I am, big man?” I asked the big piece of shit sitting in front of me.

We’d found him at his own fucking place.

It was obvious to me that the man didn’t have the first clue how to commit a crime without getting caught.

My contacts and Sebastian’s expertise had figured out it had to be someone that could obtain a certain chemical accelerant, such as a firefighter who taught seminars on what certain types of accelerants do to a fire in any given situation.

My contact had told me, just that morning, about each man that could’ve done it within a 50 mile radius, and only one single name popped up over and over again. McRae.

That had been why I’d gone to get Baylee and my grandson. I’d told Sebastian, figuring he could hold his own while surrounded by his men that worked with him. But I’d miscalculated, and that had almost cost my son his life.

“You know, it was sloppy to do your playing in your own playground. What did you think was going to happen?” I asked.

Devon McRae, the former firefighter captain, refused to answer.

“My boy idolized you. Had nothing but nice things to say about you for all these years. Then out of the blue I’m getting told by the members that you’re treating him badly, but that my boy refuses to say a single goddamned bad thing about you. You were supposed to be a role model as his lieutenant. Not fuck him over.” I barked.

His mouth was closed tightly, and his big fists were balled so hard that the knuckles on his fingers were white.

“And using your own fire axe to do the job? That was sloppier. What, did Sebastian get there and steal your thunder?”

When he still didn’t answer, I called to Trance. “Did you find the axe?”

Trance moved up slowly, cautiously. “Got it from the OR nurse. They don’t mind releasing murder weapons to the police.”

Trance’s eyes were gleaming with a muted light. He was overly pissed, and that was good for the situation. Anger had a purpose, and in this situation, anger was playing a large part in how they were going to handle this.

“Let me see it.” He held out his hand.

I studied the axe that was placed in my hand. The blade and handle was still stained with my son’s blood, his life force.

That anger that I was speaking about evaporated at the sight of it. What was left was what I would call...justice.

I raised the axe above my head...and smiled.

Chapter 22

If I were your pimp, you’d be my favorite hoe.

-Text from Baylee to Luke

Sebastian

9 weeks later

Baylee was mad as hell.

I had been home for six weeks now and I was tired of being there. I felt like a big blob of useless skin.

I wanted to get out and do something. So I’d gone to the clubhouse to work out, and Baylee hadn’t been happy.

At all.

In fact, when I was on my way home, I’d seen her pulling out of the driveway in my truck.

I’d moved over to the side of the road and started to stop, but she hadn’t even slowed down to speak to me. She’d just flipped me the bird and glared at me the entire time.

Which had only made me smile.

I knew she was just concerned, but I had to get moving some time. And now was as good as any. It’d been six weeks since I was released from the hospital, and nine weeks since the accident. It was bound to happen sometime, and I’d gotten the okay from my doctor for light activity.

And I was grateful. I was extremely tired of fishing and sitting on my ass.

There was one bright spot in my life.

Baylee had moved into my house.

At first, it wasn’t a permanent move, only until I was well enough to be there on my own. But, over time, it became something more. Something that meant something to the both of us.

I’d asked her, officially, to move in with me a week ago.

She’d put her house on the market the next day.

She’d started back to work a little over four weeks ago, taking her vacation time to help me get back on my feet.

I’d never been so smothered in my life.

To add to that was the members of my own club. They came by day and night, constantly. One would leave, and another would show up. I hadn’t been left alone in well over two months.

I loved them all, but a man could only take so much.

And now, two hours after Baylee had left, she showed up with my truck loaded down with boxes, and I had to control the urge to yell.

I’d told her I’d send my men over there to get the shit, but, of course, she’d done it out of spite. Stubborn little bitch.

“What the hell is that?” I yelled, stomping down the porch steps until I got to the cab of the truck and yanked her door open.

She glared at me with her arms crossed against her chest. “What is what?” She asked innocently.

My eyes narrowed before I snatched her up from the cab and yanked her bodily against me.

“You know what, you shit.” I growled against her lips.

“You made me mad.” She said indignantly.

She started squirming, and my raging libido came roaring back to life. I’d wanted her for weeks now. Pined for her, and she wouldn’t touch me.

It was against doctor’s orders, and she’d told me straight up that she wouldn’t be touching me until I was released. Which bothered me to no end because I couldn’t get myself off with my own hand anymore. My dick didn’t want my hand. It wanted the real fucking thing. And the real fucking thing wasn’t giving it to me; I had nine weeks of pent up frustration roaring to jet out of me.

And her body.

She was starting to show. She had a little tiny baby bump, and it made my dick harder than ever to know she was carrying a part of me with her. I was so beyond ready to fuck the woman that I couldn’t stand it.

“Put me down. I weigh too much for you to be picking up.” She squealed, as I devoured her neck with my tongue and mouth.

I nipped her shoulder for that foolish comment. “You’re not too big, honey. You’re just right. Your pretty little ass is perfect for me. Are you fond of these pants?”

I ground my raging erection into her roughly, making her moan.

“No...why?”

My answer was to rip the fuckers at the crotch seam.

“What about the panties?” I asked, fisting them in my hand.

She shook her head this time, and I tore.

She squeaked adorably.

After that, I wasted no time in unbuckling my belt, unbuttoning my pants, and shoving my pants and underwear down to my knees.

My bare ass hit the cool November air, but I didn’t relent.

My dick was so hard it was unbearably uncomfortable and I needed to be inside of her now.

Leaning forward, I forced her back up against the truck and pinned her body with mine.

I pressed the ruddy head of my cock against the heat of her, rubbed the smooth head of it along her seam to coat it in her juices, and then placed it at her entrance.

With one lunge, I was buried to my balls inside of her.

I hadn’t remembered.

My memories didn’t do her pussy justice.

She was so hot and slick that I nearly blew my load right then and there.

“I can’t wait to come inside of you. I’ve done nothing but dream of it since I was released from the hospital.” I panted, grinding my dick even deeper inside of her.

Her eyes were glazed with passion as she met mine. “Stop talking and do it then.”

Fuck. Yes.

My dick was sliding into her like a dream. Her overheated core was hugging my dick so tightly that I knew I’d be blowing in a matter of moments.

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come. Quick.” I demanded, gritting my teeth in pleasure.

Her hot little hand moved from clutching my shoulder to her clit without being asked twice.

Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I removed my eyes from the erotic show she was putting on, willing my dick to settle down so I could hold on to my control. What little of it there was.

Turned out I didn’t have to wait long, because within three more thrusts of my hard cock, the walls of her pussy started pulsing, clamping down so hard on my dick that I saw stars.

The control I had vanished.

The sound of motorcycles pulling up my driveway didn’t make me stop pumping into my woman.

My dick grew harder with each thrust, and suddenly I erupted. My cock pulsed as semen erupted from my cock and bathed her pussy.

The orgasm continued for long moments, and once the last spurt was emitted, I leaned heavily against her, laying my forehead against the cool metal of my truck.

“There’s a lot.”

“Of your club here that just witnessed you fucking me and now see your bare ass? That would be an affirmative.” She agreed.

“No, I mean a lot of semen. Spunk. Jizz. You’re probably going to need a shower.” I laughed.

Her legs circled around my back, locking in place so I couldn’t withdraw.

Well I could have, but she seemed to want to keep me there, so I stayed.

“What?” I asked.

She glared at me. “I like the Wardens and all, but I don’t like them enough to show my coochie to them. Carry me inside, but stay right where you’re at.”

“That’s not really possible. First of all, if I stayed where I am, I’d have to stand in this spot and not move. Second of all, my pants are around my ankles, I’d have to drop you and pull my pants up to carry you inside. Still meaning I’d have to move.”

She glared even more. “I don’t really care what you have to do, but you’re not turning around. They think it’s funny. And I do not want to show my hoo-haa to them. Just toe off your shoes and walk inside naked.”

I laughed, which caused my half-hard dick to jump inside of her, making her squeak.

“But then they’d see my ass.”

“Honey, they are already staring at your ass. Now get me inside.” She growled through clenched teeth.

I did as ordered, toeing off first one boot, and then the other, before stepping out of my jeans and making my way inside.

My chest twinged slightly at the added weight of her, but I ignored it, walking inside and yelling out the door before I closed it.

“Don’t come inside for another twenty minutes!”

I had plans for her.

Ones that were not suited for immature eyes.