Nasty Bastard (Grim Bastards MC Book 4) (15 page)

This time, my heart damn near thumps its way out of my chest. I’m not sure what to say about that, not even sure what to think about it. I do know I’ll be spending some time showing him my appreciation tonight.

He hands me a helmet, and I quickly put it on and fasten the strap. I climb on behind him, plaster my back to his, and wrap my arms tight around his waist. “No more talking. Let’s ride.”

The bike starts up as soon as I get settled, the rumble of the pipes vibrating through my body. A shiver works up my legs as heat envelopes my core. The feeling is absolutely breathtaking. Nothing in my life has ever been as erotic as sitting behind him on his bike. Well, nothing other than having him deep inside me.

I peek around him as we pull out of the club yard, smiling from ear to ear. I take in the scenery as he heads out of town, getting my first view of the place I grew up. When we pass by the high school, memories of walking through the halls holding Layton’s hand fill my head. The pride I felt back then fills me again as I realize I’m finally back where I belong.

Turning on to a deserted county road, he picks up speed. We pass a few old barns, places we used to go to make out. We even drive by the lake where he talked me into letting him get to second base the first time. The trees go by in a blur as the sun starts to set. Cool wind whips at my hair, drawing a laugh from deep in my chest. Right now, at this moment, everything is absolutely perfect.

As his tires eat up the miles, I feel more alive than I have in years. The freedom of the road is something I missed when I was away. Other than Mom and Layton, it was what I missed most of all. Now that I have that freedom back, I don’t think I could ever let it go again. I know I won’t ever be able to let Layton go again.

He places one of his hands over mine and shouts, “Hold tight, baby.”

“Always,” I whisper, knowing he can’t hear me, and place a gentle kiss against the exposed skin on his neck. “I’ll never let you go again.”

Smoke

As soon as we climb off the bike, I lead Gidget into the clubhouse. The place is packed. Every brother in the club must be here tonight. By the looks of things, they’re all having a hell of a time. For a second, I consider taking my woman back to my room but decide against it. I want her to stay more than anything, but she needs to know what she’s signing up for.

Holding her hand, I head for a free table in the back of the room. Of course, we get stopped about a dozen fucking times. Brothers that never met Gidget are interested in getting to know her. Those that knew her back in the day have to say hello. Luckily, no one mentions her asshat of a father or brother.

When my ass hits the seat, I motion for a prospect. “Bring me a Bud and bottle of Jack, two shot glasses.”

Gidget takes her seat then looks to the prospect and adds, “Can I get a Bud Light, too, please?”

While we wait for our drinks, I scan the room. Every fucking eye in the place is looking our way. Well, they’re directed at my woman. I can’t blame them. She’s fucking gorgeous. Her bruises are damn near gone, leaving behind sun-kissed skin. Her long black hair is windblown from being on the back of my bike, giving her a just fucked look. Those beautiful blue eyes that I love so much are still shining with excitement from our ride.

I reach over and pull Gidget into my lap, making sure everyone here knows she’s mine. “I don’t like it when you’re so far away.”

“I was sitting right beside you, Layton, not even a foot away,” she states, not even attempting to move from my hold.

“Too far,” I reply, placing my lips on hers.

I deepen the kiss, not giving a fuck who sees us. Just when my cock is starting to take notice, she reaches up and cups my face. When her fingers brush over my scar, I instinctively pull away.

“Did I hurt you?” she asks, her eyes locked onto my scar.

Shaking my head, I force out an answer. “No, you didn’t.”

Her eyes move from my scar to my eyes, and I can see the questions working in them. She wants to know what happened, but I’m not ready to tell her. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to tell her. Fuck, telling Doc and Boz was hard enough.

“I’m not gonna ask,” she whispers, obviously reading my fucking mind. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready.”

With that, she pulls her hand away and looks over my shoulder, a look of disappointment written all over her face. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I have to tell her, have to. If I don’t tell her everything, she is gonna think I’m hiding something from her. In reality, I’m not hiding anything but my own failure at saving my sister.

“It really doesn’t hurt. In some places, it can get a little tender but not really painful.” Reaching out, I grab her hand and place it back on my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to jerk away like that. I’m just not used to anyone touching it, so when it happens, I jerk. It’s a habit.”

“I don’t need to touch it if you don’t want me to,” she says, but I cut her off with a shake of my head.

My eyes lock onto hers, hoping she can see the honesty. “You are my woman. You can touch any fucking thing you want to. I’m yours, Gidget.”

When the prospect comes back with our drinks, I grab my beer and bring it to my lips, hoping like hell the cool drink will wash away the bitter memories filling my head. It only takes a second for me to realize that isn’t going to happen.

Her fingers slowly move back and forth over my scarred cheek as tears fill her eyes. “I’m always willing to listen if you ever want to talk about how it happened. If not, you need to know that it doesn’t bother me. If anything, I think it makes you look even sexier.”

A laugh bubbles up in my throat, something I never thought would happen while thinking about how I got my scar. “You’re amazing.”

She says something, but it’s lost as the sound of my laughter fills the common room. I know everyone is looking at us, wondering what the fuck is going on, but I don’t fucking care. For the first time in a long damn time, I feel a bit of relief from the guilt that has been weighing me down for so damn long.

“Did Lettie tell you what happened to Sheila, how she got hooked on drugs and died of an overdose?” I ask, grabbing the bottle of Jack and pouring us both a drink.

She nods and tilts her head to the side. “Yeah, she called me the day before the funeral. I couldn’t come because Parker was sick, so I sent flowers.”

The day of Shelia’s funeral runs through my head as I throw back my shot. There were so many fucking flowers that I had no idea who sent what, and I really didn’t give a damn. Now that I know some came from Gidget, I wish I had paid more attention.

“She started dating a guy, fell hard and fast for him. She thought he was her fucking soul mate or some shit,” I say, before taking a deep breath. “The bastard didn’t give a shit about her. Got her hooked on drugs and left her to deal with that shit on her own.”

She picks up her beer and asks, “Who was he? Do I know him?”

“Yeah, you do. It was Torch,” I answer, hating to even say the fucker’s name.

She draws in a quick breath, and her body starts to tremble. “Oh, no. Shelia was such a sweet girl. What was she doing with someone like him?”

Leaning my head against the back of the chair, I shrug in response. Why does any woman attach themself to a piece of shit like that? I don’t know the answer to that question. I’m not sure there is an answer.

“She was so far gone by the time I realized she was using, she wasn’t even the same person. It was like my little sister had died, and a junkie took over her body. She cared about nothing but getting her next fix,” I try to explain, even though I don’t understand.

She stays silent, just waiting for me to finish, but I’m not sure I can. I’ve never told anyone but Boz what happened, not even Dad. Just the thought of my father finding out sends a wave of shame through me. Hell, everything about that fucking day fills me with shame.

“When Mom caught her with a needle in her arm, I knew I had to do something.” I start my explanation, hoping she will still want me holding her when I’m done. “I was cocky as fuck, thought I could fix her myself.”

Taking another drink of my beer, I think back to the last few days of my sister’s life. “I drug her out of bed and took her to a cheap hotel right outside of Nashville.”

Everything comes back to me in a flash: her too thin body, the sores covering her arms and face, and even the smell of sweat that hit my nose every time I got near her. The pretty girl that was my baby sister was gone, and a drug addict was in her place.

“Nobody knew where I was taking her or what I had planned. It was just me and her, locked in that shitty ass room for days. The first day, she just kept screaming shit at me, until she didn’t have the energy to fight anymore and fell asleep. By the end of the night, she started throwing up. I’ve never seen anyone so fucking sick in my life. The convulsions started on the third day, and I freaked the hell out.” I mumble the last few words, remembering the way my sister twisted and turned in agony.

Opening my eyes, I look at Gidget. “I was so scared, didn’t know what to do, so I called Boz. He showed up about an hour later with Doc. By the time they got there, she was out of it. She couldn’t even talk.”

Gidget leans her head against my shoulder and says, “I’m so sorry, Layton.”

“I know, baby. Me too,” I say, tightening my arms around her. “Doc gave her something and helped me clean her up. He told me the worst was over, and she’d probably sleep for most of the next few days.”

Even saying those words has anger pulsing to life inside me. For so damn long, I hated Doc, hated that he was wrong. I wanted to blame him, but it wasn’t his fault. Hell, it wasn’t even my fault. As much as I hate to admit it, Torch doesn’t even hold all the guilt. Shelia made her own choices.

“We got her in bed, cleaned up the room, then went outside to talk. We weren’t outside for more than a few minutes, when I heard a crash.” Again, my eyes close as the memory replays in my head. “We all ran back inside to find her head stuck through the bathroom window. She used a fucking lamp to knock out the glass and was attempting to climb through it.”

Trying to shake the anger away, I go on with the story. “I went right to her and jerked her out of the window. Her feet had barely hit the ground, when she grabbed a piece of broken glass and sliced my face. There was so much blood; it was every fucking where.”

Even now, I see all the blood every time I fall asleep. It haunts my dreams. For months after, I scrubbed my hands raw, trying to make sure it was all washed away. I could probably scrub until I died, and the blood would still be there.

“After that, things moved so damn fast that I can’t really tell you what happened,” I say, shaking my head. “All I know is she was gone, and I was headed to the hospital.”

Gidget’s arm circles my waist as she says, “She didn’t mean to hurt you, Layton. She was too lost in the drugs to even understand what she was doing.”

Boz and Doc both said about the same thing, so they may be right. Still, I have to wonder. Did my little sister hate me enough to try to kill me? I hope the fuck not, because I loved her to the bottom of my soul.

My eyes close again as I whisper the last part. “Two days later, her body was found. She died from an overdose.”

Instead of telling me it was all my fault, Gidget places a kiss on my lips and whispers, “I don’t know how it’s possible. I thought that scar made you sexier before. Now, knowing how you got it, it’s even sexier. I think you are the most amazing man I’ve ever met.”

A half-assed smile spreads across my face as I let out a relieved breath. “Glad you noticed.”

With that, she stands up and reaches for my hand. “Take me to bed.”

Gidget

I lead Layton to his room as my mind tries to take in everything I just learned. As bad as I feel for Shelia, my true grief is for him. He not only lost his sister, he is having to live with the guilt of not being able to save her. The nurse in me wants to scream,
“You should have taken her to the hospital!”
Still, I know that probably would have just added a few days onto her life. She didn’t want to get clean, so it wasn’t going to happen, no matter what Layton did.

As soon as we get inside the door, he slams it shut and pushes me up against it. “I need to be inside you, baby. I need you to make me forget all that shit we just talked about.”

“Anything you need, honey.” I barely get the whole sentence out before Layton’s mouth is on mine.

I instantly open my mouth to him, wanting to get a taste. I can’t stop the moan that escapes as his tongue pushes inside. His hands go to my waist, wasting no time in pushing my shirt up to find my lace covered breasts. As soon as his fingers brush over my sensitive nipples, an ache fills my empty core. After pulling my lips from his, I yank my shirt off the rest of the way and toss it across the room.

“I don’t think I can wait. I need you now, Layton,” I whisper, my voice coming out breathy with desperation.

His mouth makes a trail from the corner of my lips, down my neck, to my collarbone, where his teeth sink in to take a small bite. Need fills me as he nips his way back along the same trail to my ear. My knees began to buckle. If he didn’t have a hold of me, I would fall in a heap on the floor. I can’t get enough of his hands all over me and his mouth as it devours me. I’m addicted to him, and it’s an addiction that I don’t ever want to recover from.

We are both in a frenzy, trying to get out of our clothes, hands rushing to our buttons so we can feel each other’s skin. Layton unclasps my bra with trembling hands, while I unbutton and unzip his jeans. My hands instinctively circle his cock as my pussy throbs with need.

I start to push his jeans down until he grabs my hand and shakes his head, his face filled with both humor and need. “Babe, I gotta take off my boots first.”

“Hurry.” Laughter bubbles out of my mouth as he takes a step back. “I don’t think I can wait very much longer.”

He kicks off his boots then takes off his cut. After laying it on the chair, he yanks his shirt over his head. His pants and socks come off next, leaving him standing in front of me in nothing but his black boxer briefs. My mouth waters as I take in the exposed skin.