Seize Me Part 10

"No Lana, this isn't your fault. Please don't think that way," I cry.

Oh G.o.d.

"I'm just gonna go to bed."

That's it. When Lana makes up her mind, it's made up for good. She's gonna blame herself for this forever, and there's nothing I can do about it.

"I love you," I say as she walks away.

"I love you too." And she's gone.

Moments later an older woman comes and sits next to me. I've seen her around cooking and cleaning and never introduced myself. Now that I think about it, I haven't introduced myself to anyone.

"How you doin', dear?" she asks, handing me a cup of tea.

Obviously she's an ol' lady, so I need to be polite.

"Not great," I say taking a sip of the tea. It tastes remarkably delicious. Nice and sweet just how I like my tea. I usually drink tea when I'm sad. So the fact she brought me hot tea immediately draws me into conversation comfortably with her.

"By the way, I'm Berry. I'm Phil's wife or ol' lady," she chuckles.

"Berry?"

"Long story short, I'm old as dirt hunny, and when berry lip gloss came out, I was addicted. So the guys started calling me Berry; sometimes I forget my given name is Gertha. So please, call me Berry. Gertha is just hideous."

Oh my G.o.d. Gertha, really?

"That is horrible." I laugh and cough as my skin pulls at my chest.

"Not telling me anything. Those kids I grew up with were awful."

"I'm sorry," I apologize and mean it.

"Think nothing of it dear." She pats my leg.

"I had a question maybe you could answer for me?"

"Ask away." She smiles.

"The club's on lockdown and I know the families are here, but I barely see the kids."

"The bas.e.m.e.nt is like a family center. It's got a kitchen, bathroom, and game room, even bunk beds. Everything you need to entertain children. It keeps them out of club business and away from harm. Pop built that years ago, and as the years pa.s.s, it gets upgraded. We just usually keep the grandbabies; the only one that followed club footsteps is my son ZZ. The rest of the guys had all girls and well, they moved on and married and now we have eight grandbabies. We just like to keep them safe; it gives our daughters peace of mind while the club is going through mayhem."

"That's nice. Who's Pop?" I can't help it. I'm intrigued with all the information she's giving me.

"Pop is Braxxon and Snipers father," she sighs clearly sad. "He was a good man."

"He's sounds like he was," I say. The cocaine is starting to do its job. I'm feeling all kinds of antsy.

"Can you point out the ol' ladies for me?"

Anything to calm me down, making more conversation will do for now.

"Sure sweetie, that woman over there is my best friend. Her name is Rockette; she used to be a Rockette dancer. Nicknames are based on a lot of your personality around here. She's Walter's wife," she says as I look at the lady. She's pretty and probably around her early sixties.

"That woman next to her," she points to a strawberry blond, "is Louise, no nickname for her. She's Max's wife. The lady pulling out the sweeper trying to clean and do the prospects job is Nancy, also known as Nan. She is Samuels's ol' lady. They aren't married, they should be. h.e.l.l they've been together for twenty-two years, but Sam is a stubborn fool. Rob's wife is downstairs with the grandbabies and the teenagers; her name is Josie. You'll be able to spot her because she keeps her hair cropped and bright red. She needs a fierce look to keep the teenagers in check. You'll meet them later. The rest are free agents," she chuckles and then sighs again. "Well James isn't free. He's still mourning his wife. She was such a beautiful woman. She pa.s.sed away from ovarian cancer. Her name was Georgia. One day when you're healed up, I'll show you the club alb.u.ms. But as for the other two women here, they're part of the p.u.s.s.y clan."

I look at her when she says p.u.s.s.y and smile.

"They are on their best behavior because the families are here. We're usually not here because well, it's no place for the family to be, but we're on lockdown. There are usually more of them, but Pyro sent them home. The two other prospects escorted them. You probably already know who Creamy is?"

I frown and nod.

"She's not my favorite either, dear. The other is Bom Bom. I have no idea how she got her name, and I don't care too."

"Grandma!" A young brunette comes barreling into the room. "I'm sick and tired of being stuck here! I wanna go home. Josie's trying to get me to change Monica's diaper. I didn't sign up to play mommy! I miss Haden. I wanna see my boyfriend. I hate my life," she screams. "Is that cocaine on the table?"

Oh, s.h.i.t!

"Tatiana." Berry laughs as she stands up, using the couch to help her. "Haden will have to wait to see your beautiful face. C'mon let's go back downstairs." She turns to me. "This young lady is ZZ's daughter." I look at her, and I know I must be frowning because she laughs. "That boy couldn't keep it in his pants when he was just thirteen years old. He snagged himself a sixteen year old and of course Tatiana's mom wanted nothing to do with her, so I raised her until ZZ was capable and old enough to do it on his own."

"That would make ZZ...," I trail off.

"He's thirty one dear; Tatiana is seventeen years old and getting ready to turn 18 in a few months. G.o.d bless us all. I'll talk to you later, dear."

I wave bye. I decide to go back to bed. My entire body aches and I need rest. I hope that I can fall asleep. I shouldn't have done that c.o.ke.

I admit when the ol' ladies are all asleep with the grandkids I'm a bit out of control. Braxxon is constantly giving me disapproving looks along with Pyro and Lana. I'm sad but being around the club keeps my mind busy as I stay sober during the day and party it up at night. I'm tired of watching Lana and Pyro fight and argue. It's old. She is taking her frustration out on him, and she is still sleeping in the slam room. He's getting p.i.s.sed, and I know it because he's sitting on the other end of the couch getting blown by Bom Bom. He's baiting my best friend and I hate that. Lana does nothing but hide in that d.a.m.n room only coming out to check on me and to eat. Then she goes straight back. I took my sling off today. My shoulder is still a little sore, but it's not so terrible. The swelling in my face is gone, and all that is left is the bruising. The worst of the healing process is how sore my bottom half is but I drink and c.o.ke up enough at night so that I can pa.s.s out without needing morphine. I know it's not how you should deal with things, but f.u.c.k, I'm even more screwed up in the head than I was before I met these people.

Pyro pushes Bom Bom off his d.i.c.k. He must've already came. I laugh as he swats her away and tilts a bottle of whiskey to his lips.

The club's on edge. No one can locate PP, and I know each minute that goes by that he's out there breathing, Braxxon is simmering at the core just as much as I am.

I have so much hate and pain inside me; I have no choice but to be f.u.c.ked up all the time. When I'm sober, that s.h.i.t just replays like a broken record spinning on a turntable.

I wish I could get up and dance, but I can't. My chest is still healing, and the last thing I need to do is rip a st.i.tch and call the Doctor back here before he needs to bring my refills. When Braxxon isn't dealing with club business, he's stuck up my a.s.s. If I didn't need him so bad right now, I would probably be annoyed with his behavior. Last night in bed while he wrapped his feet with mine, he told me that he's afraid if he blinks, I'll be gone. I couldn't help it; I almost swooned. I slipped my hand to his c.o.c.k, and I jacked him off until he came. I'm not ready for anything else yet because I'm still healing. He tried to protest, but I shut him up with my mouth, kissing him while my hand slowly stroked him to bliss.

"Hey Angel," he whispers behind me as I replay last night. "I saw you watching Bom Bom blow Pyro. Does that turn you on, baby?" He licks my ear causing me to shiver.

"Nope, I was glaring at him. He's an a.s.s."

"We all are sweetness," Pyro chimes in. "Don't f.u.c.king talk about me like I'm not sitting right here!"

Grouchy!

"He's still fuming because Lana's giving him the silent treatment." I laugh, taking a drink of my beer.

"He'll deal." Braxxon chuckles and eases himself on the couch resting his head in my lap and staring at me. I love it when he does that. Well normally, but now he has a look of regret on his face.

"Still can't find him, baby."

"Not tonight, okay," I beg. It's been an enjoyable night I don't want memories flooding back. I'll get my revenge on that b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"Deal. Now lean down slowly and give me those luscious lips," he says in that husky voice I fell in love with. "Slowly," he warns. He doesn't want me hurting my chest. I know it's because he's had the same wound before, so I listen when he tells me what to do.

My lips meet his and I sigh into his mouth causing his lips to laugh against mine. I love the way his piercings feel on me. It's an addiction. A cold lovely addiction; I crave that sterling silver against me. "They get you some gummy bears?" He chuckles against my lips.

"Yeah, do you taste them?" I giggle.

"Hmm," he mumbles forcing my mouth open so he can suck on my tongue.

It's shortly lived, as he gets serious again. "How many times did you clean your gun today?" he asks.

I roll my eyes and pull back up. Sniper gave me my own gun the day after I was beaten and raped. I clean it a few times a day. Not every time with oils. Sometimes I just wipe it down.

"Three times." I sigh. It helps me cope along with everything else.

"Angel," he murmurs.

"Don't start Brax; I'm going to bed. Get up." I start pushing at him.

"Baby," he moans.

"Stop," I say with a serious tone and he does.

He doesn't push me. It's not lost on me how he hates it. He's used to getting his way and women falling at his feet. Maybe last week before all this happened, I would have been that kind of woman, but now I'm not.

"Goodnight." I wave to everyone with Braxxon on my heels as I get up and walk away.

"I care for you, Angel." He wraps his arms around me, halting me in place. He's been saying that for four days now when I go to bed.

"I care for you too, Brax." I lift his hand, flip it over, and kiss it. He gets that I'm done talking and lets me go with a huff.

It's been five weeks since Angel's attack. Doctor said she's healing beautifully. These were his exact words. "Winter's healing just beautifully." She's still off her d.a.m.n rocker, partying with the best of them at night. She's still herself, and then again, she's not. Who can f.u.c.king blame her? Right now, we're sitting in the Chapel going over treasury. It's been too loud and hectic, and we're behind on deliveries and s.h.i.t. The kids are going crazy from being trapped at the compound. So we had a cookout, made a d.a.m.n day outta it, and let the kids play inside the gate. The only one not taking it well is Tatiana. She's driving Berry and ZZ up the wall. We wore them out with good ol' f.u.c.king sunshine so we could have some peace to get some d.a.m.n figures together. Still can't find PP; that motherf.u.c.ker fell off the d.a.m.n grid. I know that's half of Angel's problem; she wants revenge, and she wants it now. It's been quiet, and that worries my brothers.

"Petra said that new line is clear," Pyro says hanging up the phone. Good, another stack of figures our way.

"Good. Treasury?" I ask Max.

"We're sitting on 3.1 and after this month's outs, it'll be down to 2.7."

s.h.i.t. We seriously need to get s.h.i.t taken care of and get back up to the pipeline. The shop replaces the money spent on the regular bills that your everyday people would pay, but it's nothing for everything else we do.

"All dues are paid," Max replies.

I never doubted it. My brothers always pay their dues.

"Secretarial." I look to Phil.

"s.h.i.t's going great, Prez," he answers.

"Angel," I ask.

It's my way of asking anything new on locating PP, and they know that.

"Nothing boss. I don't f.u.c.king get it-," James is cut off by my phone ringing. I pick it up and slam my free hand down.

I hit accept and put it on speakerphone.

"Snake," I hiss.

"I just found out my f.u.c.king daughter was killed in that f.u.c.king fire you sons of b.i.t.c.hes! You're going to pay for this s.h.i.t. I'm going to hunt down each, and every single b.i.t.c.h you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds care about. I don't give a s.h.i.t if it was an accident or not," he screams.

An accident, I almost laugh, just almost. It was no f.u.c.king accident that Christina was killed. I'm about to retort when Winter comes flying into the room. Her eyes oozing with anger as she hears Snake on the speakerphone.

"I killed your daughter, you small d.i.c.k b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she screams. "I f.u.c.king blew her brains out, and you know what my exact words were before I pulled the trigger? Goodbye b.i.t.c.h. The same words your c.u.n.t of a daughter f.u.c.king said to me when I was s.n.a.t.c.hed up by your dumba.s.s goons!"

I give Winter a look to kill. I can't believe she just did that. She just f.u.c.ked up the peace I was trying to create so we could locate PP easier and then move onto Snake. You have to be slick with revenge and she just screwed that s.h.i.t all to h.e.l.l.

"You're dead b.i.t.c.h," Snake growls before hanging up.

I toss my phone down.

"You dumba.s.s b.i.t.c.h," I scream standing up. "Don't you realize what you just did?"

"I don't give a f.u.c.k! That b.i.t.c.h got me kidnapped. She deserved to die for what she did. For f.u.c.ks sakes, I'm just now able to pee without a f.u.c.king burn! I'm just now able to sit down without ripping my healing scar open! So f.u.c.k you," she screams pointing her finger in my face. "If you think I just f.u.c.ked things up for you, let me remind you of something. This happened to me... not you!"

The physical s.h.i.t might've happened to her, but the mental s.h.i.t happened to the both of us.

"Winter," I growl.

"Don't Winter me G.o.ddammit! I f.u.c.king hate you." She fumes before turning around and rushing out of the room.

I turn to face my brothers who have a sympathetic look on their faces.

"Prez, she's handling s.h.i.t pretty well all things considered," Smokey tries to lighten the air in the room.

"Yeah." I agree. "It's time to enlist Petra's help with this f.u.c.king mess. Pyro, Smokey, Sniper, and ZZ, you're riding with me. Phil, Walter, and Max go check on the family not staying on the compound. Samuel, Rob, James and Hammer, stay here and keep everything rolling. Call around and try to get some leads," I say slamming the gavel down.

We roll up to Petra's and climb off our ladies.

"Well f.u.c.k me. If it ain't the prodigal son; where have you been hiding?" Petra walks out of his garage to greet us.

"Petra," I greet back. "Sorry to roll up unannounced, but I need some help with club business."

"s.h.i.t, really," he says his accent thick.

"Yeah," I answer back.