Madeline Sheehan - Unattainable

Nobody said a word, because everyone already knew what “that shit” meant. Deuce had Z on the front lines, taking care of all the dirty business and overseeing it firsthand. It was gutter work, mostly bid out to nomads who couldn’t give a fuck if they lived or died.

“How long?” he demanded, referring to Tegen and ZZ.

Deuce stared at him. “Does it fuckin’ matter?”

“HOW FUCKIN’ LONG?” Cage yelled.

“Years,” Deuce replied, his voice tight with anger.

Years. Motherfucking years.

The nausea came back, this time worse.

What the fuck was going on? Did she love ZZ? The very thought of her rolling off him only to hop back on ZZ was making him want to not just slap the bullshit out of her but beat her fucking face in.

He couldn’t even fathom it, it was just so…

Fuck.

Tegen and ZZ…together? ZZ was too old for her. ZZ wasn’t just too old for her, ZZ was in over his head in some dangerous shit. Anybody, any one of the Horsemen’s enemies could follow him home and use Tegen against the club.

Fuck that. No way. She obviously didn’t love the motherfucker if she’d been more than happy to be choking on his dick for the past two days.

His fists clenched.

If Tegen was going to be in any brother’s bed, it was going to be his. It was him who she’d been fucking obsessed with all these years; it was him who’d popped her shit; it was him who’d fucked her, he couldn’t even count how many times, over the past two days. Him. Her. No one else.

Jesus.

Fuck it.

He didn’t even care how ridiculous he knew he sounded; he was just that out of his mind with anger and, fuck him straight to hell, jealousy.

Anger because she was going to split on him the second his old man lifted lockdown. Jealousy because it was ZZ she was going to be going home to. Jealousy because he was pretty positive whatever Tegen and ZZ had together, if it had lasted years already, that she wasn’t just going to quit the guy’s dick cold turkey because Cage had her during the last few days. And more anger because, why the fuck didn’t his old man tell him anything? Anything at all!

If he would have known, he never would have touched the bitch! He would have let her fucking bullshit piss him off as usual, but he would have sat on that shit instead of acting on it. Acting on it, despite the fucking awesome sex, hadn’t gotten him anywhere but dug in deeper inside the mess that was Tegen Matthews.

Now it was too damn late. He was dug in way too deep. He wanted more and he wasn’t going to wait for that feeling to come back again, with someone else, not after years of having boring, pointless sex with far more women than he was going to ever admit to, not after having what felt like the best sex in his entire fucking life with that crazy bitch. Because, shit, what if it didn’t ever come back? What if this was it? Say, he didn’t scoop this bitch up right here and now, and instead he waited for a less crazy bitch, with a lot less baggage, to come along but instead he ended up like Tap. Old and alone.

He was so fucking sick of being alone.

“Ellie?” Danny shrieked from behind him. His sister suddenly shoved past him and went running for the front door where, holy fuck, Ellie was standing, dressed in full leather, holding a helmet under her arm. And walking in behind her…

Cage’s eyebrows popped up.

“Is that Dirty?” Ripper whispered. “Or did Prez start handin’ out cuts to pretty boys?”

“Meeting!” Deuce bellowed.

“First order of business,” Ripper said dryly. “Does Dirty need a new name?”

“Meeting!” Deuce yelled again, pointing to his office. “Right the fuck now!”

Ignoring the gaping stares of everyone inside the clubhouse, Dirty turned to Ellie, who was still wrapped up in Danny’s arms while the girl jumped up and down and squealed.

“I, uh, I have to go,” he said, frowning at Danny’s back, wondering why the fuck she wasn’t letting go of Ellie.

Ellie gave him a small smile. “I’ll be fine,” she said and let out a little laugh. “I’m in good hands.”

Danny finally surfaced and glanced up at Dirty, and then back to Ellie. “I’m confused,” she said. “Did you two come here toge—”

Danny stopped talking and abruptly swung her gaze back to Dirty. And just stared.

Dirty truly liked Danny; she was one of the few people he could stand to have touch him. They’d gotten to know each other fairly well a few years back when she’d been down and out over Ripper leaving, but she didn’t know jack shit when it came to his past or what he did in his spare time. And he aimed to keep it that way.

“Oh my God, Dirty,” she whispered and Dirty flinched, dreading what she was going to say next. “You look so—”

Ellie snatched Danny’s arm. “Danny,” she said. “Please tell me you have something other than leather I can wear, I’m begging you. I’m sweating like crazy. I think even my knees are sweating.”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny said, looking flustered. “Just let me grab Harley and we can go to mine and Ripper’s room, I have a ton of stuff in there.” Before they walked off, both women shot him one last look. Danny’s was full of confusion but Ellie’s was…

She gave him a knowing smile. And that’s when it clicked.

She hadn’t been sweating, or maybe she had, but that wasn’t why she’d asked Danny for clothing. She’d been protecting him. Just like earlier when she’d very slowly wrapped her arms around his middle, stopping when he’d started to freak out, giving him time to adjust to it.

She was protecting him from himself.

Her wearing his jacket. Her protecting him. Her smiling at him; a secret smile that only the two of them knew the meaning behind it.

His breathing grew uneven. Then he found himself picturing her naked again, seeing her standing there in his bathroom doorway, her hair wet, hanging long down her body, her huge breasts, tipped in large dark nipples, heaving with deep breaths, the dark triangle of hair covering her pussy…

His dick punched forward.

“What…the…fuck.”

Dirty shoved at Cox, whose face had suddenly appeared only inches in front of his own.

“Seriously, brother,” Ripper said, having joined them, studying Dirty. “I didn’t know you had skin under all that fuckin’ hair and filth.”

“You are Dirty, right?” Cox continued, looking him up and down.

“Naw, dude,” Ripper said, grinning. “He ain’t. He’s clean.”

Cox snorted. “Nice one,” he said and held up his fist. Ripper bumped it with his own and then they both went back to studying him.

“Fuck off,” he muttered to both of them. “And back the fuck up.”

Cox shrugged. “Whatever, dude, but you know, I can’t really help myself. You’re lookin’ really fuckin’ sexy.”

The corner of Dirty’s mouth lifted and he started to relax for the first time in days. At the club he could be the man he wished he really was. He could shoot the shit, joke around, talk about women the way the other boys did. It didn’t matter that it was all show and that most of his brothers knew how shit really went down for him in the bedroom. Not that any of them knew why he dosed the club sluts, but neither did they ask.

“Speakin’ of sexy,” Ripper said. “Ellie kinda bottomed out in the ass, yeah? Whatcha doin’ with her anyway? Is that what this meeting’s about?”

“I’d still fuck her,” Cox said. “Her face is still bangin’. Who gives a fuck about her ass?”

Ripper burst out laughing. “Dude, you just miss ass ’cause your old lady ain’t got one.”

“Fuck you,” Cox shot back. “I miss pussy. Period. I don’t give a fuck what’s packin’ in the back, I just want some goddamn fuckin’ pussy. I’m ’bout ready to blow and fill Kami up with all the fuckin’ spank juice she wants.”

“Fuckin’-A,” Ripper said, backing away, looking disgusted. “Keep your Sparky Marky and the Spunky Funk stories to your fuckin’ self.”

“I am!” Cox shouted. “That’s the fuckin’ problem!”

“MEETING!” Deuce roared, spurring the three of them into action, jogging across the room and into Deuce’s office. The table was filled except for Ripper and Cox’s designated seats, so Dirty headed for the back of the room and took a seat beside Anger on one of Deuce’s two leather sofas.

Once everyone was seated and had shut up, Deuce turned to him. He watched his prez give him a long once-over but, unlike everyone else, Deuce didn’t comment.

“Tell ’em,” Deuce said. “Start from the beginnin’.”

As if it weren’t bad enough they were all staring at him like a circus sideshow freak.

But he sucked it up, his all-over-the-place emotions and crazy thoughts, and explained to everyone what had gone down. From his ride, to hearing Ellie scream, to finding her in the alleyway with Officer Dipshit, to today on the street. He told them all of it and what he missed, Deuce filled in for him.

“Yeah,” Tap said. “Fucker is definitely playing games. He musta made you in that alleyway, Dirty, knew the Horsemen had her from the get-go. Ain’t no man stupid enough to take it to this level on a fuckin’ hunch.”

“He knows we need him for this deal to go through,” Ripper said. “I guarantee he’s gonna play that card tryin’ to get at Ellie.”

“You think he’s gonna try and pull a trade?”

“What fuckin’ else? He might have a hate hard-on for us, but we’ve been fillin’ his pockets for too long now, him and his parents. Ain’t no way he’s gonna bite the hands that feed him by tryin’ to turn us in to the Feds. Nah, this is about him gettin’ to Ellie.”

Dirty stayed silent, just listening to his brothers talk it out, shooting ideas and possible scenarios back and forth, trying to figure out what Mooresville was really up to, until someone said something and he lost his shit.