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And I believe him. I’m still shaking, still panicking, but it’s getting better.
“Come on, let’s go for a ride,” he says. “Put that psycho behind us.”
“I’d like that,” I say and put on my helmet.
He mounts his bike and then helps me climb on.
We spend the rest of the day just riding the empty or near-empty country lanes around LA. The beaches, the cliffs, the wooded rolling hills. I took my helmet off at one point, as we were riding on a deserted road under the golden afternoon light, held onto his waist, and leaned into the wind, my hair blowing free and my bare skin tingling from the perfectness of the ride.
The last of my fear of Kevin blew away then. And all that was left was hope for the future with the man in my arms.
The road led us down to the beach, a small sandy alcove hidden from the rest of the world by sun-bleached rocks and tall grasses.
We swam in the ocean, naked, splashing, playing, and laughing for hours. Water clings to his eyelashes now, forming perfectly shaped droplets as he leans over me, and our lips meet. He tastes of the ocean. The same beautiful, powerful, cleansing ocean he always brings for me. But he’s also my rock among the waves, my safe place, the harbor I can always count on to protect me, even from the worst storms.
He trails kisses down my neck and across my stomach, kissing my nipples before coming back up to let me taste him again.
I’m shuddering with my need for him as he finally enters me, making us one. He’s sliding his cock in and out of me slowly, kissing my neck and my lips, caressing my breasts and my hair. My hands are exploring every taut inch of his body too. His perfect body. Made just for me to touch. To enjoy. To have.
Soon the waves of pleasure his cock is waking inside me start rising higher and higher. And still, he just slides in and out slowly. I wish for this to last for eternity. This serene peace. This blissful expression of our love. This perfect calm before the storm.
And it will. In a way, it already does last forever. The orgasm that courses through me like a surge of lightning when it finally comes is just a breather. Just the pinnacle and drop before the ecstasy that is our union can begin anew. Over and over. Always perfect. Always healing. Always exactly what we need. And endless.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Sarge
There wasn’t any way in hell I was going to stay back in Los Angeles after Luna told me Kevin was texting her again. He’s a menace, one who uses fear as a tool of power, and I don’t know if there’s anything more sickening than that. At least not in my eyes.
I hate how much fear she feels. I hate how he’s been able to make her terrified for years, and he still chooses to torment her. Some people would say he’s sick in the head and that he needs psychological help. Sure, he might be sick in the head, but the only thing he deserves is to be put in the ground, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. A man like Kevin will never heal. He was sent away and, after getting out, is still stalking her.
Why doesn’t the criminal justice system do more to protect victims like Luna?
Why do they let sick bastards like Kevin out in the first place?
The only answers I can manage to muster up are the fact that they believe Kevin wasn’t a risk or that he changed his ways. Part of me thinks he did a good job acting like an upstanding citizen on the inside. He probably went to church, took bible classes, and acted like God made him a changed man. Then there’s the other alternative—he knows someone important. I really think that could be the case, but so far, I don’t have any definitive proof to support my theory. Men like Kevin usually have ties to people in the criminal world, so if I’m right, who could he be tied to? Was his dad an old-school drug lord or some shit? Time will tell, and it’s exactly why I’m going to Julian, directly to his home.
I don’t want to guess anymore. I want to know.
I’m hoping the answers I seek will be in his home because where else is better to look for skeletons than in his own closet?
I’ve ridden out with a couple of my brothers, which include Killer, Brick, and Chains. After I got back and told everyone what Kevin was doing, they knew I was going to head out and didn’t want me to go by myself. I’m grateful for their support, but I didn’t want to drag them into my shit. I feel like this is something I need to handle on my own, but they reminded me that we’re in a club, which means we’re in a brotherhood, and none of us should have to do anything alone. When I was younger, I sometimes doubted if the club life was the right choice for me. Then there are moments like this which only solidify the fact it was. I can’t imagine my life another way.
Cobra and Ripper wanted to tag along from the Reapers Rejects MC too, so I have a lot of backup. Backup I didn’t expect since we’re dealing with Diablo, and Armor’s dealing with shit from the Orchid Organization.
Brick was able to pull up an address in Julian. It’s a home he’s owned outright for over ten years, and it’s our best lead. His house is just outside of the town, tucked away on a back road in the mountains. There isn’t another neighbor for well over a mile, and as we get to his place, we tuck our bikes away in the woods. I don’t want them to be seen, but we all want them to be accessible in case we need to fly the fuck out of here.
“Do you have a game plan?” Chains, the VP of the club, asks me.
“If he’s home, sure,” I comment with a sadistic tone lingering in my voice. I’ve thought about so many ways I could kill Kevin, and damn, do I hope I get the chance to do that today. I’m praying he’s home. I’m hoping I can see the fear in his eyes as he realizes who’s come for him.
“Do I even want to know?” Chains chuckles.
“You can probably guess, brother.”
“What about if he’s not home? We waitin’ around until the son of a bitch shows up?” Killer questions.
I nod. “Yeah, I say we snoop around, and then if he shows up, I’ll handle him.”
