Seize Me Part 7

He starts shaking his head and here's the brick wall.

"Then what motherf.u.c.ker?" I roar.

"No way man, he'll kill me," he whines.

What the f.u.c.k does he think I'm gonna do if I don't get what I want? Stupid useless f.u.c.k.

"You had your chance," I growl as ZZ and Smokey hold his head back. I reach in and start pulling teeth.

Whoever said pulling teeth, multiple ones at that, is easy I'll call their bulls.h.i.t. You gotta grind that s.h.i.t out. Sweat pulls at your brows as you snip each one. I decide to give the rat a rest after my ninth one in, but honestly, the rest is for me.

"What... ya... ant... man," he gargles out through his own blood.

"What does Snake want to do with my girls after he supposedly rips them hole to hole?" I tap the instrument in my gloved hands.

"Russians," he gurgles.

My eyes snap up to Smokey and ZZ's. What the f.u.c.k does Snake know? I need to talk with the club. This is not f.u.c.king acceptable.

"Why the Russians?"

Rat shrugs and I sigh. Why do they always make it so d.a.m.n hard for me? Don't they see I would rather be doing other things? Like making money and s.h.i.t!

I nod to my brothers, and they yank his head back. I pull each and every one of his teeth out. He's pa.s.sed out. No doubt from the pain of losing all his teeth. I grab a smelling salt and hold it to his nose. When his eyes flutter open through the swollen lids, I know I need to get my point across real fast. I'll leave him alive because I know Snake will get rid of him for me. Why should I have one extra body on my hands when his little master would take care of him for me?

"You tell Snake that if he doesn't back the f.u.c.k off and stay away from my club or my family, he can kiss his own a.s.s goodbye. I'll let Petra in on some of his dirty a.s.s little secrets and oops there goes his line for trafficking his jack s...o...b..ll."

I raise the instrument again letting the fear scare him back to pa.s.sing out.

"f.u.c.k, I hate pulling teeth," I murmur as I take one of the prepays out and snap a photo of that rat b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"Shoulda cut off his tongue Prez." ZZ chuckles.

"Naw he needs it to pa.s.s along my message. Take the van and drop this sorry b.a.s.t.a.r.d off somewhere," I nod. "Just don't forget to change the plate."

"You got it Prez."

"Pull your bikes up in the warehouse when you take the van. I don't like them being out in the open when everyone's gone and the van's out."

They nod, and I toss the b.l.o.o.d.y gloves on the cart. "Call one of the prospects and get one of em to clean this s.h.i.t up."

I text Sniper letting him know it's time. I feel guilty because the b.a.s.t.a.r.d ain't gonna get any sleep, but we have Dust business to take care of with Petra. I have a good standing business agreement with Petra. I don't break up the product I purchase from him. It's respectful not taggin' it as my own. I walk out of the warehouse and straddle my Wife. b.i.t.c.h never cheats on me. She's a joy to ride. Pleasuring me where others can't. When she's purring underneath me, I almost get hard. I kick my stand and take off. The wind ripping through my cut calms my nerves. I always get vamped making my point. I nod as I pa.s.s Sniper waiting for me at our spot and he cranks his lady and pulls out following me. We make it to Petra's meeting spot a few minutes early, and I know Petra will respect that even more. He hates waiting on motherf.u.c.kers just as much as I do.

"So Christina's f.u.c.kin' at the club," he mumbles climbing off his lady.

"I know brother. I invited her. c.u.n.t's up to something and I wanna know what it is. Don't say s.h.i.t. I'm gonna talk with Pyro. You got the money?"

"Yeah," he grumbles. I can tell he's p.i.s.sed that Chris is at the clubhouse. b.i.t.c.h f.u.c.ked s.h.i.t up.

"Bout time you f.u.c.kers got here. My b.a.l.l.s f.u.c.kin' shriveled up waitin' on ya." Petra chuckles at his own joke.

"Petra," I nod, and he nods back.

"Straight down to business as always Braxxon, my most loyal buyer and line runner." He grins before saying something in Spanish. I need to learn that s.h.i.t. I seriously do.

We take a seat on his black leather couch in the garage. The dude is ghetto as h.e.l.l for a Mexican. He leaves his garage open where everyone can see his business. I would be nervous if his place wasn't secluded and he didn't have everyone on payroll that means something.

"Two ounces for club use and the new line ordered ten kilos," I say as Sniper throws the envelope full of money down.

"I'm shaping up to liking this business you be bringin' me, Braxxon." He takes the cash. "Drop off point?"

"Address in the envelope for surveillance," I say.

We have to be careful with new lines. Petra does his homework on all buyers. It helps cut my middleman access down to where we get a finder's fee, and we're done. Petra takes it from there.

We shoot the s.h.i.t with Petra, try the new product out, and by sun up, my bed is calling for me. Sniper and I take our personal product and head out. When we pull into the compound, Sniper hops off his bike and heads to the safe to pull the guns out for Angel's target practice. Poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I need to let him get some sleep, and I'm about to tell him to when Angel comes walking out looking s.e.xy as f.u.c.k. Her brown curls spill from a pile on top of her head, and she's wearing a white tank with some short a.s.s shorts with holes and has on a pair of white kicks. My Angel in white is sipping her coffee. f.u.c.k, she's beautiful.

"Hey baby." I grin.

"Hey," she mumbles.

s.h.i.t, it's safe to say she's still p.i.s.sed.

"C'mere," I say as I stand up. I wanna see her sitting on my bike. "Sit."

She hands me her cup with a small smile playing on her lips. She's amused, and when she straddles my Wife, I know I made the right decision when I laid claim on my Angel.

"How she feel?" I croak. f.u.c.k, I sound like a p.u.s.s.y.

Winter smiles at me as she leans her elbows on the tank and arches her beautiful a.s.s in the air.

"She feels almost as good as you do between my thighs," she purrs.

"f.u.c.k me," I groan.

She climbs up off my bike, taking her cup from me. "Maybe later. I got guns to shoot."

"Angel," I moan. She's going to kill me.

"You're still in timeout. You can't just get me gummy bears when you f.u.c.k up." She giggles sauntering away from me.

I've spoken no words to Sniper as he sets up the range. I thought we were going to an actual legal range. I should've known better. As he drags the guns out, I text Lana. She was still sleeping when I left.

"Quiz time, name this gun," Sniper says snapping my attention away from my phone.

I roll my eyes. Seriously? "It's a Glock," I say simply bored.

"And...," he trails off.

"It's a semi-automatic."

"Rounds?" he asks.

"That one I think is seventeen," I murmur.

"Good girl... next," he says as he places that one back down.

I eye the next one and about choke. "That's custom built. Let me see it."

Sniper chuckles, and hands the gun to me. It's beautiful. I've never been a fan of guns especially since Allen, but I know a creation when I see it.

"That's my other lady," he says simply.

"And your first being...," I whisper eyeing the gun.

"My bike."

Oh yes, of course it is.

"I wanna shoot this one first please," I beg.

Sniper nods and takes it from me, loading her up. After that, he lays it down and warns me with a brow to leave it be for a moment. I watch him walk across the open desert with beanbags, nails and a hammer. He hammers a few bags into a wooden post and walks back.

"Pick up Betty and take your stance."

Betty? I grin at him. I can't help it. He's amazing. Who names their gun Betty?

"You're too much like your brother." I laugh taking my stance. "Speaking of... you wouldn't happen to have a photo of Christina on ya, would you? I honestly wanna shoot that b.i.t.c.h."

"I hate that lying b.i.t.c.h and no... I don't have a f.u.c.king picture; just shoot the d.a.m.n gun," he growls.

Okay, so that's a touchy subject. I widen my legs a little as I take aim. I close my right eye letting my dominant one take over as I was taught. I focus and breathe in and out. When I'm satisfied, I pretend the beanbag is Christina and shoot, not stopping until the clip is empty.

"Holy s.h.i.t!"

"Again please," I beg. That was relieving.

"We need to talk about this," he says seriously.

"Nope, my past is off the table, sorry."

"I'm telling my brother."

"What's he gonna do, spank me? No, wait don't answer that." I hold up my hand. "Can we just finish my fresh up lesson please?"

"f.u.c.kin yeah we can."

"Peachy."

I go through twenty beanbags before he switches to cans. I obliterate those too. After three hours of target practice, he calls it, loads up, and we head back to the compound. Sniper's anxious and I can tell a little sleepy too.

"You want me to help carry everything in?" I ask, getting out of the truck.

"No sweetness, I got it."

"Okay, thanks."

"Mmm anytime," he says his voice husky. I shake my head and smile at Sniper. Why does he have to be just like his brother? So d.a.m.n s.e.xy with that blond hair and crooked grin.

My mood is grand. I've shot guns until I'm blue in the face, releasing and leaving all my hate and anger in the desert. Well, almost all of it. I'm only human, and my only human side shows as I walk into the bar area and spot Christina.

"Can't get enough from one brother, so you move onto the next too," she says smiling.

I'm about to open my mouth with a retort when Sniper comes up behind me.

"Chris... she's not you. And shut the f.u.c.k up before you p.i.s.s me off. I'm tired, and it's too early for you to be starting s.h.i.t with people."

And there it is. Something happened between Braxxon, Sniper, and Christina and I want to know what it was. And if something happened, why is she still here?

"Lana's still asleep," PP says as he walks up. I can almost tell he was averting my attention to something else. Smart dude, but now what am I supposed to do?

"I know the Prez would be happy that you're back," he says.

What the h.e.l.l? Is this dude a mind reader or something? I narrow my eyes at him. "You play stupid, don't you?" I accuse.

"I'll never tell," he chuckles.

I realize I'm now smitten with dear old PP. He's one of a kind. I wink at him and whisper his secrets safe with me as I walk away. It's time to wake up Braxxon. When I pa.s.s Pyro's apartment, I hear moans and shake my head. At least I know she's still alive since the hussy didn't answer my texts back. I tip toe up the stairs quietly and crack the door slowly. I want to give him a proper wake up like he did me a week ago. The room is almost totally pitch black from him hanging a towel over the window. Only a bit of light shows through a crack enough for me to see all of his naked glory with only a sheet covering a bit of his thighs.

"Angel, you're burning a hole through my skin; c'mere," he whispers in the darkness.

What's with him using my lines? Can't he find some of his own?

"Not fair, I wanted to wake you up," I whine.

"Maybe next time. Take off your clothes; I wanna feel that glorious naked body against mine."

I swear if he asked me, I would play slave and master with this man. When a man like Braxxon asks you to get naked, and his voice comes out smooth, s.e.xy, and not at all demanding, it makes it extremely hard for a girl to turn down. I slip out of my clothes and join him in bed. I was thinking I was gonna get an o.r.g.a.s.m, but clearly that's not the case. He wraps his arms tightly around my neck and intertwines our legs together. He's cuddling me.

"Uhh...," I mumble.

"Winter, you're more than a f.u.c.k. How did shooting go?" Braxxon murmurs into my hair.

Wait, what? Is he speaking? Seriously, he's gloriously naked and holding me to him. I can't think. Who the h.e.l.l could when she has a nine-inch c.o.c.k against their backside?

"Huh?"

"My baby is speechless cause I just want to cuddle."