Madeline Sheehan - Undeniable

"Holy fuck," He muttered, scrubbing his palms over his eyes.  "Holy fuckin' fuck I fucked up."

"Yeah you did."

His hands fell to his side.  Preacher stood a few feet away.  Alone.

Not good.  No witnesses to be seduced into ratting Preacher out if his body was ever found.

"Got cameras all over the club," He informed him.  "Even in the stairwells."

He nodded.  If he'd been thinking clearly he would have known that and gotten the fuck out.  He had cameras all over his club too.  Security in this business was fucking necessary.

"You ready?"  Preacher asked, pulling his piece.  He watched him screw the silencer on.

Was he ready to die?  No.

Did he deserve to die?  Yeah.  For a long time now.

Was he just going to turn tail and let Preacher kill him?  Fuck no.

"Alleyway, Deuce.  Now."  Preacher pointed with his gun.

He faked a turn and went for his own piece.  He wasn’t fast enough and Preacher’s first bullet took out his right leg.  He stumbled backwards and fell on his side in a pile of garbage.

Preacher's boots pounded the concrete and he braced himself for the killing blow.  Fucking fitting that he was going to die in a fucking pile of garbage.  His old man had always said he was garbage.  He sure as fuck felt like garbage.

His body jerked as pain exploded in his shoulder.

"Fuck," He groaned.  He hated getting shot.  Shit fucking hurt.

"I'll call your boys to come collect you," Preacher said, surprising him.

"Unfortunately, I need you alive.  Our boys are in too deep together, got too much ridin' on shit you got a hand in.  That said, you come anywhere near my girl again, first hit's gonna be in that sick dick of yours, second in your brain.  Second, you even try for retaliation I will gut every last boy in your Queens chapter."

"Understood," He croaked.  Since he liked both his dick and his brain just the way they were and none of his boys deserved to go to ground for his fucking sins, he was never going to go near Eva Fox again.

But fate was one mean bitch.

And two years later she slapped him in the face.

I loved dancing.  I loved Club Red.  And I loved my best friend Kami.

She was loaded, I was loaded.  She was spoiled, I was spoiled.  She was bored out of her mind and I was being suffocated to death.

Being the spoiled, bored, suffocated girls we were, with the help of another bored and spoiled rich kid, we procured fake I.D.s and were able to escape to our happy place every Saturday night.  Club Red.

Best part, Frankie had no idea where I was.

We were able to accomplish this with the help of Kami’s sexy chauffeur, Jacob, who Kami had been giving it up to since she'd been thirteen and Jacob eighteen.  I'm fairly certain Jacob was head over heels in love with her but he'd gave up trying for anything more than sex years ago.

Kami, being as starved for attention as she was, had convinced herself sleeping with a lot of different men was a good way to go about getting what she was lacking at home.  It never worked but she never stopped trying

Anyway, this is how my Saturday's went.  Frankie would drop me off at Kami’s penthouse.  If Kami’s parents were home, we’d get prettied up, wait until they went to bed and then sneak down the back stairwell.   Jacob would meet us in Kami’s underground parking garage, drive us out the back exit that was only used by the penthouse occupants, deftly evading the tails Frankie put on me, and off we went.

Freedom.

☼☼☼

Deuce hated New York City something fierce.  Always had and always would.

Even more then he hated New York City was the New Yorkers that resided in it.  Even more then he hated New Yorkers was New York City nightclubs filled with New Yorkers.

Two of his boys had rode up with him on business.  They wanted a party and some pussy and since he sorta wanted to pick up some pussy for himself, he tagged along.  He wished he hadn't.

He was standing against a wall in a packed nightclub with red satin hanging all over the place and red fucking disco balls twirling on the ceiling while surrounded by wall to wall drunk fuckwads grinding against each other to what he supposed was music but sounded a lot like television static with a crappy beat.

He was a simple man.  He liked kegs, country music and down home pussy.   He didn't see the need to dress up the fact that he was getting drunk and laid.  It was all the same in the end.  Sloppy kissing, skin slapping and a nasty hangover.  Why the fuck put a decorative umbrella on it?

His boys had ditched him about an hour ago in favor of some slutty club bitches.  He'd seen Cox disappear with two scantily clad Latinos and Mick had gone off dancing with a woman he was pretty sure was packing a cock under her seriously short skirt.  He was so fucking miserable he had momentarily considered taking pictures of them with their whores and sending them to their wives as payback for making him endure this shit.

"Hey," A female voice slurred.  He rolled his head left.  Christ.  Fucking skinny bitches everywhere in this city.  No tits.  No ass.  All of them wearing skin tight clothes that emphasized the fact that they had no tits and no ass.  This particular bitch, tall, skinny, and bleached blonde, was so fucking skinny her breastbone was on display through her skin.  The napkin she was fronting as a dress was practically see-through and he could see she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Fuck off," He said.

Her eyes went wide.  “What?”

"You deaf?"  He asked.  "I said, fuck off."

Her mouth fell open.  "What?" She whispered.

Christ.

"Bitch, I don't wanna fuck you so I ain't gonna buy you drinks and tell you how fuckin' hot you are hopin' you're gonna spread those bony ass legs for me, cuz one, you're not hot, you might be someday if you start eatin' but as it is right now, you're not. And two, I don't wanna fuck you so I’m givin' it to you straight.  Fuck off."

She blinked.  Then she leaned forward and placed a bony hand on his chest.  And smiled.  He stared down at her hand debating on whether or not he should break her fingers.

"Wherever you want it, however you want it," She breathed.  "Right here, in the bathroom, behind the club.  Where. Ever. You. Want. It."

His eyebrows shot up.  She had either major self-esteem problems or some serious daddy issues or maybe she was just plain fucking crazy.

"Kami!"  A female voice squealed.  "Kami!"

The bitch beside him straightened up and looked around.   "Evie?"  She yelled.

A giggling mass of dark brown hair surged forward through the crowd of people and barreled straight into the blonde.  They were both shitfaced; instead of hugging they just kind of fell into each other and then into him.  Annoyed he shoved them both backwards and the blonde's drink went flying.  People scattered as the glass shattered.

Laughing hysterically and clinging to each other, they both stood up straight.  He watched, frozen, as a Horseman's tag slipped out from the brunette's shirt. Her imposter of a shirt.

Then she flipped her hair out of her face and his blood ran cold.  Then hot.  Really fucking hot.

Last time he had seen Eva Fox he'd been two seconds away from sinking balls deep into all that sweetness and he'd taken two bullets because of it.

"Kami!" Eva cried, oblivious to his presence. "Where have you been?  I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Oblivious was the last thing he was. Bitch had on some kind of shirt that wasn't actually a shirt but a triangle of sequins that appeared to be staying on her only by a complicated looking series of strings.  The fucking thing barely covered her tits.  Her fat, heavy, perfect tits.  Her entire back and her midriff were exposed, her belly button pierced with some shiny fucking bullshit and the rest of her was incased in tight black leather pants.  Tight as in he was damn positive she'd had to lube up her legs and juicy as hell ass to get those bad boys on.

On her feet, black chucks.

His chest tightened.

Now standing, she tucked his old man's tag back inside her non-shirt and did a little wiggle as she straightened her top that wasn't actually a top causing her tits to bounce.  He got hard.  Just like that.  Like he was seven-fucking-teen.

Still giggling, she surveyed her surroundings, finally catching sight of him.  Her -made to suck cock- lips parted, her stormy eyes went wide and she swayed a little to her right.

"Deuce," She whispered.

He didn't know what the fuck to say so he said the first thing that popped into his head.

"Babe."

Kami looked between them.  "You know him?"

"Yeah," she said, her eyes on him.  Jesus Christ, those eyes.  She was damn beautiful.

"Introduce us!"

"Deuce, this is my friend Kami, Kami this is my…friend Deuce.  But-

She turned to her friend.  "He's married.  Got kids too.  So hands off."

He stared at her, confused.  He was married?  He had kids?  Oh right.  He was sorta married.  And yeah, he had kids.  He loved his kids.  Their mother…not so much.

"Shame," Kami purred.  “The whole scary faced, bad ass biker thing is really working for you.”

His lip curled in disgust.  He’d just told this bitch he found her unattractive, that he in no uncertain terms wanted anything to do with her and yet she still wanted it.  Fucking whore.  Fucking fucked in the head stupid fucking whore.

"He's not scary," Eva scolded.  "He's beautiful."