Reprisal (Tidals & Anchors MC Book 2) (5 page)

“Thanks for the warning,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. I stretched my arms over my head, then to the left, and right and chuckled as I dropped them to my side. I saw the glances she kept stealing at me, but I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t see or touch her in
that
way; she seemed too innocent, and it wasn’t my job to corrupt the innocent.

I walked over to the blinds behind Alaska’s desk and peeked out into stripper world.
Damn that’s some good timing,
I thought when I saw her entering through a side door.

“Mind if I get the chair?” I asked, Tumbler after I let the blinds go. “I kinda don’t want to sit on that couch anymore, and if I lay down on the floor, I’ll probably fall asleep again.”

She nodded, grabbed her magazine, and went over to the couch. I watched as she precariously perched herself on the arm of it instead of sitting on the cushions.
I’m probably gonna have to scrub at least three layers of skin off.

“Think she’ll be mad?” I asked.

“Alaska? About what?” Tumbler asked, glancing up at me.

“That I’m in her majesty’s chair,” I replied with a mischievous grin.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anyone in but her so I’m kind of curious myself,” she remarked with a laugh.

I heard the unmistakable sound of Alaska’s heeled boots as she came up the hallway in back. I ran my hands back through my hair, rolled my shoulders back a few times, and leaned back in her chair. I propped my legs up on the top of her desk like I had seen her do so many times and waited for the door to open. Tumbler giggled from where she was sitting on the couch and I winked at her.

The look on Alaska’s face when she came through would be priceless.

Alaska

T
he look on his face is going to be priceless when I bring Dallas in,
I thought nervously as I pushed the door open to my office.

“What the fuck are you doing in my chair?” I asked, as soon as I walked in.

“What the fuck is
he
doing here?” Swing asked at the exact same time.

The look on his face had gone from smug to angry in point five seconds and mine had gone from nervous to pissed off in about the same amount of time.

“Get the fuck out of my chair!” I yelled walking over to him.

“Get the fuck out of here!” he yelled at the same time, getting up and starting toward Dallas.

“Everybody stop yelling!” Tumbler shouted, hopping up on the couch. “You sit down over there,” she said to me pointing at my chair. “And you sit over there,” she said to Swing pointing to the desk.

We both grunted but went to our spots. I sat down, but not Swing. He paced in front of the desk like a caged animal waiting for the right chance to go after Dallas.

“We’re all going to speak in turn, or I’m going to start shooting people,” Tumbler said, taking her gun out and setting on the couch next to her. “Alaska, you first. Who is that and why is he here?”

I smiled at her. She was getting more impressive as the days went on and I was seriously thinking of bumping her up to VP.

“That’s Dallas Quinn; Pardon’s son. I knew that I had to do something to save us and back us out of this fucking mess, so I thought if I found him and brought him here it might help. I didn’t realize that it would get such a psychotic reaction of out of this one,” I explained, jerking my head toward Swing.

He turned quickly and gave me the deadliest stare. For a very brief moment, I seriously saw my life flash before my eyes, but remembering that Tumbler was ready to shoot to kill; I collected my nerves and propped my legs up onto the desk.

“I’m done,” I added, resting my hands on the arms of the chair.

“I don’t know you, but I have a feeling you had better go next,” Tumbler said, nodding at Dallas.

He stepped into the room and got as close to Swing as he dared, making sure there was enough space, just in case.

“Brother, I know what this looks like. I know what you have to be feeling right now, but I didn’t have shit to do with this. Not anyone here with me did,” he said waving some other members of their club in. “I never set you up, Swing. I’ve been trying to help you from the beginning, but Pardon had it figured out. I don’t know how, but he did and it set me up to look like I was trying to have you killed. I love you, man. You know I wouldn’t do this to you,” he said, spreading his hands out as he talked. It almost looked like he was begging Swing to believe him and it really made me eager to see what his response would be.

Swing finally sat on the edge of the desk, drumming his fingers along the top of it. I could tell he was a ticking time bomb just waiting for the moment he could explode, but something was keeping him in check.

I think his enraged silence and the way he stared at Dallas, was worse than anything he could possibly say. I exchanged a glance with Tumbler who was sitting on the arm of the couch, now gun in hand, waiting for Swing to say something.
Anything.

When he finally spoke, I think the entire room to collective deep breath and listened carefully.

“Why should I believe you? When push comes to shove, and I get my chance to put Pardon down, how do I know you won’t step in to keep him alive?” Swing asked. His voice shook and I knew it was because he was trying so desperately to control the rage he was feeling.

“You don’t. But with the position we put ourselves in, pretty much spitting in Pardon’s face to get you out of Bend to begin with, I was hoping you’d be willing to go on a little faith here,” Dallas replied, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

Swing’s tension didn’t let up. His body was radiating his want to tear Dallas apart, but he was holding himself back. Probably waiting until he knew for sure, but I only figured that because it was what I would do.

“Listen, we gotta go. I followed her 'cause I had a hunch that it was you when she said she had something I wanted. There’s a Havoc vote and Pardon needs everyone there. I’ll come back once it’s over, alright?” Dallas said, tiredly.

I was staring at Swing’s back since that was what was presented to me. He seemed to ease up a little on the anger when Dallas said he would be back. It was obvious that these two men loved each other like brothers, but would that stop either of them from doing what would ultimately need to be done in the end? I’d find out soon enough.

Swing

I
was fucking furious when Dallas left. Furious that he was brought here, furious that Alaska thought showing Pardon’s son where I was a good idea, and furious at myself for not putting a bullet through his fucking skull.

“Get out,” I said to Tumbler, rubbing my chin irritably.

“Alaska?” she asked, glancing at her. I turned around in time to see Alaska nod to her. She wasn’t afraid of me and that was about to fucking change, but I couldn’t have the trigger happy kid ready to shoot me the moment I lost my shit.

I held myself together as she eyed me wearily. After letting out a sigh, she put her gun in the waistband of her jeans and finally left the room. I had moved myself so that my back was to Alaska again and I was drumming my fingers along the desk. I needed to figure out how to say what I needed to say without her dismissing how serious of a fuck up she had just made.

When my fingers started to go numb, I stopped the drumming and ran a hand over my face. I was never any good at being nice about things when I was pissed off so I just needed to say what I had to say and hear her out. It was the best thing to do.

“Alaska—”

“Save it, Swing,” she said, cutting me off immediately. I could feel my face getting hot; nothing made me angrier than being cut off when I was speaking. “I did what I thought was right. That pretty boy and his band of heroes seem to have good intentions when it comes to you and I thought we could use the back up.”

I turned myself sideways, so I could prop one leg up on the desk and I stared at her. My rule of no women and no children was about to go flying out the fucking window again.

“You know that’s Pardon’s fucking son, right? You think he’ll switch his loyalty from his own father to me just because
you
said so?” I asked incredulously.

Alaska shook her head and dropped her legs off of her desk. She crossed her arms on the wooden top and leaned toward me.

“You seem to forget that I hold rank over him. While I may not be in your precious little club, I’m still an MC President. He’ll listen to me or he’ll get what’s coming to him,” she said with a dangerous smile.

I shook my head. She didn’t get it; it wouldn’t matter who
she
was to Pardon or any of the brothers in the club. The only thing that any of his loyal members would see is that she was against him and that was putting a huge target on her back.

“You just stepped into some serious shit, Alaska and I’m sorry to say, I don’t really care what happens to you or any of your little buddies here. Caring about what other people think is what put me in this fucking position to begin with,” I replied softly.

She leaned back against her chair, still smiling, before she got up, and came over to sit next to me.

“I know you don’t care about us, Swing. I’m not worried about it. You’ll come through when I need you too,” she said, resting a hand on mine.

I looked down at her hand and stared. I wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted from me, but I had no intention of doing any dirty work for her.

“What do you want from me?” I asked bluntly.

“For you to trust me.”

“Unlikely.”

Alaska sighed and got to her feet. She came over to stand in front of me and rested a hand on either side of me. She was looking up into my eyes, trying to read something, anything, but I wasn’t giving up a damn thing. I was always good at being able to shut down.

“Do you trust Warren?” she asked quietly.

I raised an eyebrow at the sound of his name. The one person that was able to track me to Bend before Pardon, was the same person I let live on some bullshit promise of giving me a letter from Harold. This wasn’t meant to be a yes or no answer. It couldn’t be.

“How do you know Warren?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“How do
you
know Warren?” she asked, a small smile creeping across her lips.

“Who are you?” I asked her curiously.

“I already told you. I’m Alaska Winslow,” she replied, her smile getting a little wider.

Something about her being so close to me and the way she was smiling was starting to get me hard. Something about the way she was keeping secrets from me, while dangling answers in my face was starting to make my blood race through my body.

I wasn’t sure what the hell came over me when I grabbed her by the face and kissed her. I wasn’t sure what came over her when she returned my kiss. When I felt her hands go around my body and I pulled her against me, I was confused because it felt so right.

Was Alaska the person I had been looking for? Was she the Mallory my teenage self wanted so desperately? I wasn’t sure and it bothered me and thrilled me at the same time. But when she roughly pulled my shirt off and ran her fingernails down my torso, I didn’t care anymore. When she unzipped my pants and reached in for my throbbing cock before dropping to her knees and taking it into her mouth, I cared even less.

I gripped a fistful of her hair and closed my eyes while she bobbed up and down. I tightened my grip when she stopped just long enough to run her tongue up the shaft of my cock before taking it into her mouth again.

But when the door opened and Tumbler came back in to check on Alaska’s well being, I felt like shit. The look she gave me; like I had betrayed some unspoken thing that neither of us knew about fucked with me so deeply, that I pushed Alaska onto her ass, and put my dick away.

I grabbed my shirt and pulled it back on before I went out into the Pussy Parade to find Tumbler and see what kind of damage I had just done to Stilettos & Steele.

Dallas

B
y the time we got to the clubhouse, everyone else was already there. Pardon was freaking out, yelling that he wanted to know where the fuck the rest of us were and I knew I’d be in for an interrogation soon.

“...and I swear to Christ, if you let him out of your sight again, I’ll fucking kill you myself!” he was bellowing as we walked in.

“What’s the problem, old man?” I asked walking over to him.

His eyes narrowed dangerously at me and I felt a little nervous. I would never admit to being afraid of my father, but the looks he would give sometime would shake even the most hardened ones among us.

Except for Swing,
I thought shaking my head with a smile.

“Get your asses in that room,” he said in a low, even tone.

I rolled my eyes and followed my half of Tidals & Anchors into the meeting room to join his half already waiting in there.

“Everyone sit the hell down and let’s get this over with,” he barked, dropping into the new President’s chair.

I sat down across from Honest and stared at Pardon. Every time I saw him in that new chair, all I could think about was Swing and it made me angry. But I always held it in because it was never the right time. Especially not now that we were going to have a Havoc vote.

“Who pissed you off this time, Pardon?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“You’re starting to get awfully mouthy like your friend,” he shot back.

“All I’m asking is who we’re having a vote on. Someone here must’ve pissed you off, because the only other time you allowed a Havoc vote was for that biker chick,” I replied with a shrug.

Pardon gave me a sinister smile as he leaned back in his chair to mimic the way I was sitting. I started to get a really bad feeling about this, but I wasn’t going to show him. I loved my father, but sometimes he jumped the gun on shit he didn’t need too.

“You all heard the boy,” he said condescendingly, “let’s have our vote.”

“On who?” Honest asked curiously.

“It’s been brought to my attention that we have a little problem here in the motorcycle club. Something of a coup,” he started, keeping his eyes on me. “I won’t stand for this shit. Regardless of who you are in this club, I won’t fucking stand for it. We’re gonna go around this table and we’re gonna do this right.”