Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2) (3 page)

She stood up and, walking around the table, kissed him on the top of his head. “Wouldn't dream of it. I'm going back up. As you were the one that thought it was a good idea to bring Abs downstairs, you can sit and watch her. There's no way she's going to sleep for a while. Goodnight.” She kissed her daughter and disappeared upstairs, leaving him feeling like he'd just lost an argument.

He looked over to his goddaughter. “Looks like it’s just you an' me, Princess. How about we go in the other room and watch a movie.” He stood – more carefully this time – and, picking her up, carried her into the living room, put on a DVD and settled down on the sofa. Abi climbed onto his lap and rested her head on his chest, her eyes fixed on the screen while his own grew heavy.

Pulling the throw from the back of the sofa, he wrapped it around them both.

Beth was one of the smartest people he knew, but she was wrong about this. He was a nomad, and there was no room in his life for an old lady. He kissed the little girl on the top of the head and closed his eyes. Tiny might have settled into a family life, but that life wasn't for him.

~ oOo ~

“
Samsam.” Abigail laid her hands on his cheeks and pressed her nose against his. “Samsam. Get up.”

He opened his eyes. “S'up, Abs?”

She scowled and drilled him with her big brown eyes. “Get up, Samsam. Now!”

“
Bossy little fuck.... shit.... Thing, ain't ya?”

“
Fuck shit.”

“
Do not say that, Abs.”

“
Daddy!” She slid off his lap and ran towards Tiny. “Fuck shit, Daddy.”

“
Sorry, man. Beth's gonna be pissed, ain't she?”

“
You have no idea. Kid's picking up everything at the moment.” Tiny kissed her cheek. “Want some breakfast, sweetheart?”

“
Yogurt an' 'nana.”

“
Okay, I can manage that. C'mon. Your mom will be down soon an' she's gonna wanna yell at Uncle Samson. We don't wanna hear that.”

“
Thanks for the support, bro.”

“
I'll gladly take a bullet for you. But stand between you an' my woman? Nah. I like my balls attached.”

“
Pussy.”

Tiny grinned. “Yep, when it comes to her, I am.”

FOUR

Samson leaned on the wall and listened with half an ear as his brothers discussed the upcoming run. He may have worn a President's patch, but as a nomad, there was no church for him to preside over, and although – like now – he would attend wherever he happened to be, he had no vote. This suited him fine. He loved his brothers…loved the club, but he was by nature a loner and he had no time for the politics and petty posturing that took place behind the chapel doors. He glanced up at the huge double-headed viper painted on the wall behind the Seattle President. He had known all those years ago, when he had first worn that patch, that this was how it was for him. He was an outlaw among outlaws. A freak among The Freaks.

“
Samson?”

He jolted from his reverie at the sound of his name. “What d'ya need, Prez?”

“You fit to ride?” Wolf leaned back in his chair. “Got a truck heading across the border in a couple of days, could use some eyes on it.”

“
Sure. Just tell me where and when. You need me to reach out to my guys?”

“
Don't think so. I need this low profile. Just the one outrider – no colors – and a van. We got a decoy headed out the same day.”

“
You expecting trouble?”

“
Not sure. Feds have been sniffing around, putting the pressure on. I need to get these parts shipped out, and I got a feeling they're gonna be watching. And with Barney and Tiny both on bail, I can't afford any slipups.”

Samson shot a look over at Tiny, who met his stare impassively. “You kept that quiet, brother.”

“Nothing to tell. Fuckers got nothing on me.”

As his brothers filed out into the clubhouse, Samson pushed himself away from the wall. “Tiny. A word.” He looked over to Wolf, who nodded and left them alone.

Tiny sat back down. “S'up?”

“She doesn't know, does she?”

“
What?”

“
Beth. Your old lady. The mother of your kids. This is why you wanna get hitched. You think you're gonna do a bid. Shit, man.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You gotta be straight with her, bro.”

“
You need to stay outta my shit, brother. I will tell
my
old lady when
I
see fit.”

Samson raised his hands. “You wanna fuck things up between the two of you, feel free. I just thought you had more respect for her than that.”

“I ain't listening to this bullshit.” Tiny stood up. “I'm gonna go and get a drink.”

“
Tiny, sit down.” Scowling, his brother complied. Samson grinned. He may have not been his President anymore, and Tiny was a good two inches taller than him. But when Samson told you to do something, you fucking did it. “What's the charge and what is the chance of you walking away from this?”

“
Arson in the second degree. Cops have a witness. Nothing else.” Tiny shrugged. “If we can get to him... I walk. If not and I say nothing... I'm looking at ten years.”

“
Fuck.”

“
I ain't gonna say anything to Beth till I have something to tell her. She don't need to be worrying about this right now.” He pushed his chair back. “I need a drink.”

This time Samson let him go. “Worst case, bro... You want me to watch her?”

Tiny stopped and turned around. “No. I want you to stay the fuck away from her. You really think I wanna be sitting in a cell knowing my closest friend is taking care of my old lady and kids?” He shrugged and grinned. “Not that I'll get any say, of course. Beth will want you around. An' trying to stop my old lady from getting what she wants is like trying to stop the tide. So I guess I'll have to suck it up.”

“
Just remember, bro. I ain't Barney, and she ain't her sister.” He grinned. “Now, I dunno about you, but I'm gonna get shitfaced.”

One of the universal truths was that The Freaks loved to party, and Samson was no different. Tonight, though, he really wasn't feeling it. It was too loud, too crowded and the perfume on the bitch who was currently pressed against him was giving him a headache. He nudged her with his elbow. “Take a hike, sweetheart.” Throwing the bourbon down his throat, he stalked outside into the cool night air. Maybe he should take a ride. He needed to clear his head. To shake off this feeling of..... Wrongness.

Wolf had told him they were no nearer to finding out who had jumped him and killed that kid. There was nothing to tie either Mikey or the warehouse to the club, and Samson had taken off as soon as the kid had taken his last breath. While the cops were still sniffing around, they were keeping a low profile. The Seattle President had assured him that they were still looking but had other priorities. They needed to find this witness and stay under the Feds’ radar. He got it, but it didn't sit well with him. The kid had been killed, someone had to pay – he threw his cigarette on the floor – and if the club wouldn't do it, he would.

“Samson!”

He looked up and waited for Barney to catch up. “Something you need?”

“No... I just saw you head out. Wanted to talk to you before you left.” Barney hesitated and ran his fingers through his hair. “Listen, man. I know you think we should be doing more to find the assholes that jumped you. We will, I swear. But right now, we need to be smart. The last thing we need is for you to start stirring shit up.”

Samson felt his hands ball up into a fist. “Wolf send you? No. Don't answer that.” He glared at the sergeant at arms. “You can tell Wolf that I've no intention of fucking things up for the club, but I ain't gonna let this go. Now run along and deliver the message like the good little errand boy that you are.” He turned and marched to his bike, leaving Barney staring behind him.

~ oOo ~

The truck stop looked deserted as he pulled up onto the lot. Samson killed the engine and undid his helmet. He hadn't even been aware that he'd been heading back to Idaho until he'd been on the road for over an hour. Shit! He unzipped his cut and pulled out a cigarette. It had happened before after spending time with Emma – this odd feeling of displacement – but he'd never acted on it. A couple of days with his brothers and of fucking faceless whores was enough to shake it off.

This time, he hadn't been thinking. He had been angry and – if he was honest – hurt at his brothers' apparent indifference to what had happened. He was still angry, but at least now his mind was a little clearer. He finished his cigarette and, firing up his bike, headed back to Seattle.

He'd expected Beth to be in bed when he'd let himself into the house, but she was in the kitchen, tapping away at her laptop. She looked up and smiled. “Hey. I wasn't expecting you tonight.”

He shrugged and headed for the fridge. “Care to explain why the back door was unlocked and you ain't pointing that ittybitty gun of yours at me?”

“My gun is locked in the safe. I'm not sure if you'd noticed, but there's a two-year-old running around the place now, and the door isn't locked because I unlocked it when I heard your bike from about a mile away.” She closed the laptop. “So how come you're not at the party?”

He shrugged. “Not in the mood, I guess.” He grabbed a beer. “I'm gonna head up to bed. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” She looked up. “Samson... Is something going on.... With Joe?”

Shit! He turned. “You know better than to ask me that, baby girl.”

“So there is. Something happened on that run, didn't it?”

“
Beth.” His tone was warning, but his heart broke for the woman sitting at the table, those big brown eyes full of worry. He held out his arms. “C'mere.”

“
I know I'm not being paranoid. I know him, Samson.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “I know something's up.”

Fucking Tiny. Samson held her close and stroked her hair. Time and time again, his brother underestimated his remarkable old lady. “You gotta ask him, baby girl.”

“I know.” She pushed herself away from him and sat back down. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked.”

This was why he'd never take an old lady. He could never ask that of Emma. “You okay, baby girl?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I'm okay. Goodnight.”

He should have just wished her goodnight and gone to bed. But he found himself pulling out a chair and sitting opposite her. “How do you do it, Beth?”

“Do what?”

“
This.” He stretched out his arms. “How do you deal with all the shit that comes with being tied to a Freak? Why the fuck would you put yourself through that?”

“
I love him.” She smiled. “I'm sure there are times when my life would be easier if I didn't. But I do. So I deal.”

“
It's that simple?”

“
It really is.” She looked up and her eyes met his. “Bring her to the wedding, Samson.”

“
This has nothing to do with...”

“
Yes, it does.” She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I know you, too. You like her, and I'm guessing she likes you. It's just a little wedding, what's the big deal?”

FIVE

It always took a few days for Emma to adjust after Deke left. Her little house always felt too empty, and she missed waking up with him next to her. But she had always enjoyed her own company, and she wasn't the type to sit around twiddling her thumbs waiting for his next visit, so she quickly pushed him to the back of her mind and fell back into her old routine.

The last few visits had been different. He'd stayed longer than normal, and it felt like something had shifted between them. She couldn't quite pin it down. They'd always been good together. He was easy to be around and was good company, but recently she'd felt herself wanting more, and she was beginning to think that he did too.

She finished wrapping the canvas and sighed inwardly. There was no point getting all bent out of shape over what was going on between them. It was what it was, and as much as she'd like to, she couldn't see it being anything else. And her life was pretty good without him in it. She didn't really need him at all. She loaded her paintings into the trunk of her car and set off for nearby Boise. She was just fine.

“
Emma, sweetie. You're early.” Harlow James, proprietor of Harlow Art and self proclaimed society queen, tottered across the gallery in her ridiculous heels and kissed Emma on the cheek, enveloping her in a cloud of Chanel. “And that looks like only two canvases.”

“
Hey. Yeah, I know I said I wouldn't be here till after lunch, but I've been landed with an evening shift.” She leaned the canvases against the wall. “And I know I said I'd be bringing three, but I've been kind of busy these last few weeks, and I just haven't had time to do the last one.”

“
Don't tell me you've gone and got yourself a life. Because I absolutely won’t believe you.” Harlow took her arm and led her to the desk in the corner. “So what was it. Wild parties? Orgies?”

“
Moving the chicken run, extra shifts at the diner and I had a friend stay for a couple of weeks. If I'd known he was coming, I'd have finished it sooner.”

“
He? Tell me more.”

“
Nothing to tell. He's an old friend is all.” Emma shrugged, ignoring Harlow's arched eyebrow. “He swings by if he's in the neighborhood.”

“
Oh no, sweetie. Not good enough. He stopped you painting, no one stops you from painting. What's he like? Is he hot?”

Emma grinned. “Yeah, he's hot. He's a big bear of a man, but he's kind and he makes me laugh. And yeah, he is the reason I didn't finish the painting.”

“Well, obviously I'm thrilled for you, but you'd better learn to paint between hot sex sessions, because you are one of my best sellers.”

“
It's not like that... He's a just a friend.”

“
With benefits.”

“
Yes, Harlow, with benefits.”

“
Right. That's it. I'm closing up for an hour. Lunch.”

“
I don't have time...”

“
Make time. I'm hungry, and I need to know why you haven't snapped up Mr. Perfect.” Harlow grabbed her hand and dragged her to the door. “Come on. It's confession time.”

Emma stirred her coffee and waited for the interrogation to begin. She had known Harlow for years and had, until now, successfully deflected questions about her private life and the many attempts to get her to go on dates with the latest 'perfect man' she'd found. This time, though, she was trapped under the scrutiny of the woman opposite her. She looked around. “I've never been here before. It's very nice.”

“
It's okay. Not really my thing, of course. Now tell me about this man of yours. What does he do?”

He's an outlaw. He turns up at my house covered in blood. He travels the country for a motorcycle club, doing things that keep him up all night, drinking bourbon. He hurts people.
“He's a mechanic.”

“
And how did you two meet?”

“
He was a customer at the diner.” At least that she could answer honestly. “We met about five years ago.”

“
Five years? And you haven't managed to get him to commit. Emma dear, why are you wasting your time on this man?”

“
I don't want him to commit. We're fine as we are. He has his life, I have mine, and sometimes, when our paths cross, we get together.”

“
He's married, isn't he?”

“
No, he's not married.” Emma took a sip of her coffee and tried to stay calm. She never talked about Deke to anyone, and it was beginning to freak her out a little. “Please, Harlow. Can we talk about something else? I'm really not comfortable talking about my sex life.”

“
Fine. Just remember, though. You're not getting any younger. Do you really want to end up all alone like some crazy old cat lady, because you were too chicken shit to take the plunge with a man you so obviously like?”

“
I'm thirty-five. And I don't like cats. Now can we just change the subject?”

~ oOo ~

Over the next couple of months, Emma settled back into her usual routine. Winter was rapidly approaching, she needed to tidy the vegetable patch, and the veranda needed to be repaired before the bad weather set in. On top of this, she had two commissions to finish and extra shifts at the diner, so brooding over Deke wasn't an option. Despite this, she couldn't shake the feeling of discontent. Hearing Harlow say out loud how she was selling herself short had got to her more than she wanted to admit. She wasn't getting any younger, and while she was happy with her life right now, she did want kids in the future, and she couldn't see that happening with Deke. Maybe it was time to tell him they were done, and move on with her life.

For now, though, the veranda wasn't going to fix itself, and there was still a couple of hours of daylight left. So armed with a hammer and nails, she climbed on a chair, and with the stereo on full blast, set to work.

“You're gonna break your neck doing it like that.”

“
Deke!” The chair wobbled violently as she spun around and, reaching up, he lifted her off and set her back on solid ground. “I didn't hear your bike.”

“
Not really surprising with that all that goddamned noise.” He turned off the stereo and lifted her chin with his forefinger. “Good to see you, little witch.”

There was no opportunity to respond as his mouth came crashing down on hers, and with her legs wrapped around his waist he carried her inside.

In five years, there had only been him. He'd never asked if there were others. Emma wasn't sure whether that was because he was so arrogant that he believed he was enough for her, or if he really didn't care what she did when he wasn't around. But the truth was: he was enough for her, and ever since that first time, she didn't want anyone else. “Deke…” She gasped and dug her nails into his neck. “Oh God, Deke... I…” His mouth was on hers again as he pushed her against the table and started to wrestle with her sweater.

He pulled away and attempted to pull the offending item over her head. “For fuck's sake, how much of this is there? Goddammit! Help me out here, woman.”

Laughing, she pulled off the sweater and dropped it on the floor. Deke stood back and watched with an amused expression. She cocked her head slightly. “What?”

He made a face. “Just looking.”

“Well can you stop looking and start doing? Unlike you, I haven't been laid for nearly two  months.”

“
Does it bother you?” He touched her cheek, but stayed firmly where he was.

“
Really, Deke? You're going to ask me that now?”

“
Does my screwing around bother you?”

“
Yes, of course it does. Now get over here.”

“
Why didn't you say anything?”

“
Deke.”

“
Why didn't you say anything, Emma?”

“
Would it have made any difference if I had?” When he didn't answer, she nodded. “I guess you have your answer.”

“
They're not like you.” He bent and kissed her. “You're different.”

“
Mmm, good. Now shut up and fuck me.”

“
If you insist.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and, pulling her head back, began kissing and biting her throat. “Horny little witch.”

~ oOo ~

“What the fuck?” He opened his eyes as something cold and wet touched his ear. “Take a hike, hound.” Emma mumbled in her sleep and snuggled even closer, wrapping herself around him. He smiled and pressed his lips on her forehead. “You gotta get off me, the dog needs to piss.” Reluctantly, he untangled himself and, pulling on his jeans, padded to the back door to let the dog out.

He leaned on the doorframe and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Why the fuck had he asked her that? Of all the stupid dumbass questions, he could have asked, he had to choose that one. She hadn't seemed fazed – but not much ever fazed her – in fact, if anything it made her even hornier, but the fact was, now he knew. He couldn't pretend that she was fine with other women, any more than he could pretend to be okay with her being with other men. The problem was, where did that leave him... Them.

“Hey.”

“
Hey.” He turned and watched her as she crossed the kitchen. “How come you always look so hot?”

She grinned and looked down at the baggy tee shirt and purple socks she was wearing. “It's a gift. Of course it helps that my guy is kind of old, and his eyesight isn't what it was.”

“You got an old guy? Where is he? I'll take the fucker down.”

“
Funny.” She walked over and pressed her hands against his chest. “You're the only old guy I need. Of course...” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his jaw. “If a younger model comes along...”

“
I'll kick his ass too.” He pulled her closer and kissed her. “Ain't sharing you with no kid.”

Laughing, she pulled away. “Staking your claim, big guy?”

Was that what he was doing? He ran his fingers through her curls. “Do I need to?”

She shook her head and, pushing him away, walked back across the kitchen and began slicing the bread. “You want something to eat?”

No, I want you to tell me why suddenly after all this time, you've gotten under my skin, and what the fuck I'm supposed to do about it.
He leaned back on the doorframe. “Sure.”

She smiled that goddamned smile. “And then after you've fucked me again, you can fix those loose panels on my veranda.”

“Jesus, woman. I fucked you in every room of the house last night.”

“
It's a very small house.” She smirked. “Of course if you're not....Oh!”

He closed the space between then, in one deft move, spun her around to face him and threw her over his shoulder. “I am going to fuck you unconscious.” He marched into the bedroom and dumped her onto his bed. “Turn over. On your knees.”

“Make me.” Her eyes darkened and she licked her lips.

She hadn't put up much of a fight as he flipped her over and, with his belt, tied her wrists to the wrought iron headboard, but there were a couple of scratches on his chest. He ran his hand across them and grinned. Bitch had made him bleed. He slammed hard inside her, his fingers digging into her thighs. She barely made a sound as he pounded, harder and harder, and while her pussy was yielding, the rest of her was completely rigid. He slid his hand around the top of her thigh and rubbed his thumb against her clit. She jolted and whimpered and his grin broadened as he began to increase the pace, and the whimpers turned to moans as her orgasm grew. He couldn't hold back any longer as her beautiful pussy tightened around his cock. “Fuck, Emma.. I…Fuck.” He collapsed on top of her, then rolled onto his back, breathing heavily. “Fucking witch.”

She smiled. “Asshole. Now untie me before you crash.”

He untied her and, pulling her into his arms, closed his eyes. “I ain't crashing, I'm just resting my eyes awhile.”

~ oOo ~

Emma took one final look at the painting, then, finally satisfied, cleaned the brushes and headed back downstairs. Deke was out back fixing the loose panels, the dog lying close by, watching his every move. He turned as she stepped outside. “Hey. You done?”

“Yeah.” She ran her fingers down the double-headed viper inked onto his bare back. “Thanks for doing this.”

He shrugged. “No biggie. You can repay me later.”

“So the down payment wasn't enough?” She kissed his shoulder blade and grinned. “Maybe we can take a ride later and I can show my appreciation.”

“
Sorry, sweetheart. Not sure there'll be time for that. I'm gonna have to head out this evening.” He laid the tools down and ran his fingers through her hair. “How about you settle for feeding me instead.”

Swallowing her disappointment, she smiled. “Sure. Pasta okay?”