Sawyer
Initially, I was a little worried about Bess Geary and The Wolf Den. The only time she had been here was when she was celebrating Cassidy and Craddock’s engagement. She had her friends here with her then.
This time, it was Bess and the Bikers. My classy public servant mixing in with the rough men who I called family.
Stone, Ridge, Hagen, Ryder, and even Steel were all at various positions either working the bar or enjoying a night off.
They all noticed my beautiful guest, of course, but none of them was stupid enough to be anything but polite. Except Larry.
Bess had decided the bar was where she wanted to be and had taken up an easy conversation with Dusty. Dusty, another formidable woman in my life, they were adding up.
“So I think he needs new leather that’s all I’m saying,” Dusty was trying to recruit an ally in her war against my old shit.
I was tuned in and out of their conversation. I liked my leather but was sure I could not keep my defenses up against Dusty if she got Bess onboard.
Larry sat down on the other side of Bess and put an arm around her. I thought I might murder him.
“Well legs, what’s a classy bitch like you doing in a place like this.”
“Hey!” Dusty interjected.
“Present company excluded, Dusty, you’re always a rose among thorns.” I held my breath at what Bess was going to say to Larry’s bullshit.
“Well, classy bitches need beer too.” Bess lifted her bottle; she refused a glass and tipped it to Dusty who smiled. Bess had made two new friends and I started questioning the wisdom of bringing her here. She had the charm to have everyone up my ass if she wanted.
If all three teamed up against me, I would have to move back to California.
“You don’t look like any old lady I ever saw, but Sawyer sure likes the way you’re put together,” Larry said to Bess whose eyebrows were about as far up as eyebrows could be.
“We’re not even Facebook Official Larry, I’m not sure the title Old Lady is apropos.”
“Apropos or affianced, just let me know where you’re registered when the time comes and I’ll get you towels or something.” Larry matched Bess’s vocabulary and she looked surprised.
Dusty and Bess both laughed with Larry and I finished my own beer. The truth was, this was actually nice, bringing the woman I could not live without to meet the bikers no one could live with but me.
We had a good time eating, drinking, and giving each other shit.
Ryder came over, later Ridge and even Hagen joined in. It was a good night and Bess Geary finally got a chance to relax. Something I do not think she had done in years.
Well before the rest of the bar emptied out, I put a hand on the lower part of her back and started a slow circle the edged its way down. She wore a blazer over her blouse today, still dressed from work, and it provided the perfect cover. I edged my fingers until I found a little skin.
The tiny point of contact was enough for me. I wanted to take her to bed, now. I tugged at her skirt and stood up. She said her goodnights and I led her down the hall up the staircase to my apartment above The Wolf Den.
“Wow, this is actually really beautiful,” she walked in and looked around.
“I get that a lot.”
“Women up here frequently?”
“Two or three a night.” It was a joke but I saw a fire in her eyes. Jealousy! Ha. I never had women up here unless it was someone like Raleigh when Mace brought here. I let Bess be jealous, though.
I had an open kitchen, TV area, and dining room. A hallway led two small bedrooms and then a big one for me.
Dusty and her dad, the former Prez, lived here before me. After he was killed, she wanted me to have it and to go out on her own. It was because of Dusty that it was so nice.
Her dad let her fix it up and she did. Now I was the beneficiary. I always thought it was a bit too much but I was glad right now that I had somewhere decent to bring Bess. Dusty also arranged for a group of the old ladies and bar flies that loved the club to clean my place. I am not going to lie. It was good to be Prez when it came to those details.
I grabbed Bess by the hand and pulled her down the hall. I did not want to talk about our days anymore, the club, her office, or the dozens of problems we both had to deal with. They would be there tomorrow.
She may have been pissed at my comment about the women at my place but that evaporated when we kissed. I laid her down on my bed and planned to strip her slowly. It was something we never had time for. It had been so fevered with us since the first time I had touched her.
I wanted to savor this night, look at her, love her, and take my time on every inch of her.
I leaned over her and she wrapped her fingers around my neck. I unbuttoned her blouse, always a blouse and skirt with her; I got her down to her bra and panties.
“You have the body of porn star under those boss lady clothes.”
“Are porn stars the ones you bring up here?”
“Shut up.” I made her shut her mouth with a kiss. I dragged my fingers up and down her tummy and the attitude disappeared again as I found out how ticklish she was.
“Stop!” She cried and I did but not before thoroughly enjoying her wiggling around trying to get away.
Then I had her nude, spread out, and mine on my bed. She helped me out of my leather and jeans and we were toe to head touching. Her skin was on my skin. My hands roamed every place I had wanted to explore.
She wrapped her legs around my thighs and I was there, in the best place on earth, inside Bess, with Bess, and around Bess. It was the slowest burn we ever experienced and the payoff was worth it. I got to savor every curve, every little gasp, every pulse of her hips, and every clench that brought me closer and closer to the edge.
I held on, though, wanting to be sure that I gave her the same feeling. She rocked her hips to mine and I felt her legs tighten around me. She dug her fingers in and her breath was shallow.
“Oh, Sawyer, there, oh, there.” She was right where I wanted her. As she crested, I let go too. The slow pace gave way to the primal need to be deep inside her. To mark her as mine forever. I came so hard that I saw fucking stars in front of my eyes. I was surprised they didn’t roll back in my head.
Everything about being with her was fucking sexy, perfect, challenging, easy, hard, everything. Bess was everything to me now.
I fell asleep with the most gorgeous woman in the world. Lucky Sawyer, very, very lucky Sawyer I thought.
It was a perfect sleep.
It was short-lived.
“What was that?” We both jolted awake.
“Gunfire.”
“What?”
I was up fast and grabbing my clothes. She searched for hers. It had to be at least three or four in the morning.
“You’re not going down there. If you need clothes in a hurry stuff I bought you is in the bathroom, crawl there, and hide.”
“What are you even saying?”
“Do not come downstairs. If you do not hear me or the guys announce that it’s us, assume it’s not and shoot ‘em.”
“What?”
I handed her a small handgun. She looked horrified.
“The safety is off. That means it is loaded. You pull that trigger if the asshole that comes up here isn’t in leather.”
“But.”
“No fucking argument.” I prayed she didn’t have to shoot anyone but I trusted that she was smart as a whip. She would shoot well if her life depended on it. I hoped it didn’t come to that but I heard more pops, then screaming as I ran downstairs.
Too late. I was too late.
The club was shot to hell. Broken glass, the front door wide open, blood, bullets, and spilled beer.
Who was hit? Were they gone? I dropped low and crawled behind a table. Most of the guys were either out of the room or on the floor too. I had no idea what the situation was.
I heard shouting outside. I decided whoever shot the place up had run back out.
“They fucking slashed all the tires.”
I did a head count. There was Ridge, Larry, Steel, all accounted for. They ran up to me.
“Who was it?”
“Well, they weren’t speaking English.”
“The fucking Russians,” I said.
“Who’s hit?” I asked.
“Inside our guys are all inside,” Larry said.
We ran back in to see what the Russians had done. Hagen was for sure the worst off, dead. I could see it before I got close. His eyes were open, his hand at his neck, and blood soaked down from the wound.
I looked around, “Victor!” The big man was bleeding too. Hopefully, we could help him. He was still alive but would not be for long by the side of the red glossy liquid oozing from his gut.
I yelled for Steel, who came around and put a hand on the gushing wound.
“Call 911 Larry,”
“Already done.”
“You got this?” I asked. Steel nodded, and he had seen worse, I knew. He would keep the pressure on as long as it took.
Dusty popped into my mind. Where was she? Oh God where was Dusty?
I ran to the bar and leaped over it. There was Stone, bleeding from the shoulder, gun pointed out, looking first like he would kill me, and then registering who I was.
“Fuck Sawyer, I nearly shot you in the face.”
“Okay, get off me.” Behind Stone, smashed under the bar, was Dusty. Every part of her obscured by Stone. He moved forward and let her out from behind the human shield he had made.
The strong and silent Stone stood up and lifted Dusty up by the elbow.
“I got it I got it.” She was peevish for someone just saved from a bullet spray.
“Are you okay?” I asked her and looked to see that everything looked to be in the right place.
“Uh, yeah, Stone stepped in front of me. Jesus.” She saw the fresh bullet hole in his shoulder.
“What?” He looked and realized he had been hit.
“Don’t worry about it.” He said to her and I thanked God both of them were okay, despite Stone’s shoulder, they were standing and talking.
Victor and Hagen were not. I walked outside as sirens began to wail. My mental headcount continued.
“Where’s Ryder?” I asked Ridge.
“He took the one good bike and is chasing them.”
“Shit, go stop him if you can. We’re in a war and he can’t take it on by himself.” I turned back to the club and my boot hit a familiar brick. We had seen it at the jewelry store, at Bess’s house, and now here.
I expected it to say Bratva, but instead it was a different message.
Blood for Blood was scrawled upon it.
Fire for Fire. Blood for Blood. This was retaliation for the damage we did to their guy.
We had broken fingers and they had killed. The escalation was dramatic and on purpose.
The war I had known was coming was here. A motion on the second floor above the bar reminded me who was upstairs.
Bess. Jesus.
I had been trying to keep her safe and I had let her be this close to an M.C. versus Russian mob bloodbath.
My heart sank at what this meant for us. Had we stayed downstairs, had a bullet ricocheted, had just one tiny thing been different she could be in the same position as Hagen or Victor.
I had forgotten for a second how ugly this was. I had spent most of my adult life in one club war or another. It was so easy to block out the brutality. It didn’t take long for me to go soft in this moment of peace and prosperity for the M.C.
It was so easy to deny that this was a part of life
I knew what I had to do. I would have to stop the Russians for sure. Before I did, I would have to make sure Bess and I were through.
They were coming for me. That was fine. I’d be damned if I would let Bess get hurt.
I made fast and decisive moves every day. I made one more as the sun came up over The Wolf Den and the sirens got closer.