Deeds: Broken Deeds MC (7 page)

Oh, shit. How do I answer that one? Fuck it, the sucker isn’t around and spending a few minutes with this lovely old woman makes me smile, inside and out.

“That I do.”

She puts her arm through mine and pats my hand. Walking back to the house she smiles at me.

“I knew he was saving himself for a sweet girl like you, pumpkin. You call me Grams, you hear?”

“Sure, Grams. Come, let’s go check the kitchen if we can find some cookies too.”

She quickens her pace as we both walk into the house. It’s still empty, which means Deeds must still be asleep. The house is filled with the rich aroma of freshly-brewed coffee. Walking into the kitchen, I fill up the kettle and put it on the stove. I pour a cup of coffee, but leave it set on the counter. I need my coffee to cool down a bit. I really hate when it’s all hot because I can never seem to enjoy the taste that way. I'm afraid to scald my tongue.

Grabbing a bucket and the first aid kit I spotted in the pantry earlier, I set the kit on the table and then move to fill the bucket half way with warm water. I kneel down to roll up her PJ’s and place her cold feet in the bucket. She sighs in pleasure.

When I look at her hands, I see that she’s indeed hurt them with all that furious pulling. After gently cleaning the wounds, I place her hands back on her lap. The whistling makes me stand and get the kettle. Checking the fridge for some milk, I place it on the table in front of the old woman. God, how I miss my Grams with her sitting there smiling at me.

Grabbing my cup of coffee and some cookies I found, I take a seat across the table from Grams. Her gaze flicks to my face, and I know she’s looking at my piercings.

“I’ve always wanted one of those.”

I can’t help it, I laugh out loud. God, she’s adorable.

“It’s true!” she insists. “The one you have in your eyebrow, pumpkin. That’s the one I want, right here.”

She points at her left eyebrow.

“I can do that for you if you like.”

Before she can say another word, Deeds is standing in the doorway and growls out his words. “You will not pierce my grandmother!”

I can’t help but glare. Come the fuck on. She’s old enough. Why the hell not?

“She doesn’t need your consent; she’s old enough.”

Deeds looks pissed off enough to spit nails. “Don’t fuck with me, Hotlips. I said you’re not going to pierce Grams.”

“Language, Deeds! How many times do I need to tell you? You’ve got a lady now, show her some respect. Now give me a kiss, I haven’t seen you in two days.”

“I showed her respect all night, Grams.”

He fucking winks and smiles at me. That’s just a nasty remark, in front of Grams nonetheless. Again, I burst out laughing when Deeds gets slapped hard on his bicep by Grams.

“When I say language, Deeds, I don’t mean you have to make sexual insinuations. I wasn’t born yesterday you know.”

Deeds mumbles a few curses while I’m trying very hard to stop laughing. Standing up to grab myself another cup of coffee, I hear Deeds offer her an apology. I turn and glue myself to the kitchen counter as I watch Deeds kneel in front of her. He grips her hands and inspects them before glancing down to the bucket where her feet are still resting. Setting my cup on the counter, I leave the room to get her a towel. Just as I turn to walk out of the bathroom, I bump into Deeds’ muscular chest.

“Found Grams huh?” His smile tells me I’ve just found something he treasures. “Seems like she found me.” I’ve only known the old woman for a few minutes, but I already feel protective of her.  “She was trimming the bushes with her bare hands. Out in her PJ’s, Deeds. Bare fucking feet! You can’t let her wander off like that.”

“I have two prospects keeping an eye on her.” His voice carries a hint of defiance.

“Well they ain’t doing a good job, now are they?”

It seems like I hit a sore spot since the next thing I hear from him is a switch of topic.

“I wasn’t kidding about the piercing part, Hotlips. You know you can’t do that shit to her, right?”

I roll my eyes at the comment and push at his chest so I can leave. Controlling alpha idiot. I’m not getting into that discussion with him. Walking back into the kitchen, I kneel down and dry off the old woman’s feet, then roll down the legs of her PJ’s.

“There, Grams. All warm and clean again.”

“You’re such a sweet girl, pumpkin. Thank you.” She glances up at Deeds. “She’s way too sweet for you, son. You need to keep her and treat her right.”

“Believe me Grams, I know and I’ll make fu-”

“Language!”

“I was going to say future, Grams! Future plans with my ol’lady.”

She rolls her eyes, making it clear that she’s not buying it. Grabbing my mug, I sit at the table. She looks at me and tilts her head to the left. “Can you really pierce it for me?”

“Fuck no!” Deeds growls yet again. She shoots him an angry look and turns her head back to me, raising her eyebrows.

I like her, even more because she’s not taking any of his bullshit. So I can’t help myself when I say, “You know what? If you ask me the same thing for eight days in a row, I’ll pierce that eyebrow on the ninth day. How’s that?”

Deeds crosses his arms in front of his chest. It’s fascinating to watch the skin on his arms turns white from where his fingers are pressed. Maybe he’s also biting his tongue, who knows. But he’s settling with my agreement with her, probably hoping she’ll forget. Fat chance she will. Her smile is huge as she nods.

“You got a deal, pumpkin!” She picks up her tea and takes a sip, her eyes drooping from apparent fatigue.

I set my cup down. “Okay, Grams. Now that we have this settled, why don’t you go rest up a bit?”

Deeds nods in agreement. “Yeah, Grams. She’s right. Lemme take you home.”

Seems my foot is trying to find Deeds his toes again, because I can’t help myself as I blurt, “I have a better idea. Why don’t you go lie down in the guest room? We’ll lock the door so you can rest without anyone bothering you. I’ll check on you in a little while. Maybe Deeds can go out for groceries so we can make dinner together later.”

“Marvelous idea, pumpkin. My boys never thought about locking me in, so I’d stay safe. I’m glad you’re here now to take care of me.”

I can’t help but smile. God, how I missed a warm motherly person in my life. I’ve only been around bikers since I lost my own grandmother. And with me having no other option but to stay put these upcoming days? Yeah, I’d like to spend more time around Grams.

“You got it, Grams. It’ll be my pleasure. I’m having a little vacation time. Things were getting awfully boring around here, so I should be the one to say thanks for keeping me company.”

She Shuffles over and puts both hands to my face. “Such a sweet little thing.” She kisses the top of my head and turns to Deeds. “Could you walk with me to the guestroom, son?”

He nods at Grams but looks over at me and I just know he’s gonna give me hell the second he gets back.

Walking into the living room, I look around. Okay, I confess, I might be looking for a place to hide. A file folder on the table catches my eye and I can’t help but take a peek.

***Deeds***

My chest tightens when I think back how Lynn treated Grams. Tender and already so protective. Lock the fucking door so Grams can’t hurt herself. Why didn’t I fucking think of that? Oh yeah, I know, because it might have been
insane.
How come when Lynn suggested it she didn’t make it sound like we were locking her ass up? Damn. Thank fuck the old woman had a good day, well the moment she was in our kitchen at least.

As I said, she’s old. Sometimes she does things she doesn’t even remember doing. Like the last time we went out to dinner. She left to go to the bathroom and never came back to the table. I waited for like fifteen minutes before I found out she got confused and wandered home.

Walking into the living room, I smile when I see Lynn sitting on the couch. She’s got her feet tucked beneath her perfect ass and papers are scattered all over the cushions. Seems like she found the file I deliberately left on the table. I knew she was too damn curious not to peek inside.

We need a breakthrough with this case, and if that means new eyes, so be it. If I know Lynn’s view on things as well as I think I do, she’ll be a great help. Even though I left it out for her to find, I can’t resist busting her ass. Besides, I’m pretty sure she would be disappointed if I didn’t.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The papers in her hands scatter as a little yelp escapes her throat.

“What the hell, Deeds? Do you want my heart to stop?”

“Like fuck it will. Your heart belongs to me, I own that fucking heartbeat.”

She rolls her eyes. “Cocky much? Jeeeeezzzzz.”

Reaching out, I wrap my hand around her neck, my grip tight but not tight enough to cut off her air or hurt her. Her eyes go dark as I feel her pulse speed beneath my fingers.

“Feel that? Do I need to say more? I bet that cunt of mine is getting wet right now. Do your walls contract with every squeeze my hand gives? Nothing cocky about it, fucking facts of life. Now, answer me. What the hell are you doing?”

Her eyes turn into tiny slits. “If you expect an answer after calling a part of me cunt, you can think again.”

Shit, that totally slipped out. Grinning down at her I turn my voice as soft as silk.

“I meant that sweet as hell, tight pussy of mine. I should have swallowed the C-word, just like how I love to swallow your juices.”

Inching my face closer, I lean in and trace her bottom lip with my tongue, moaning at the sweet touch of her mouth to mine. Pulling back, I look into her eyes and release my grip on her neck.

“Now, Hotlips, answer my fucking question.”

She scans the couch and the floor, grabbing a picture off the floor and holding it up. “This is the fucker I shot.”

I nod as pride swells my chest. That statement is proof my woman is a leader. A victim would say this is the guy who hurt me. But no, Lynn turns it around and addresses it so she’s the one taking action.

She frowns. “He takes these little boys and abuses them, doesn’t he?” I nod again. I don’t want to give her any information. I want a clear opinion. “From all the boys he took, only one turned up dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck!”

“What is it? What are you thinking?”

“Does he like… train them or something? To be used… like some kind of sex slave and then sells them? What if this little guy, the one who turned up dead, stood up against the fucker? It looks like they beat the shit out of him.” Concern clouds her eyes. “You have to do something! Wait, why do you have this? Do the police know this is happening? Wait, are you working with them? Oh Fuck! You guys don’t have anything to do with this, do you?”

“Stop! Are you serious right now? No we’re not fucking involved, or at least not in the way you’re thinking. We’re nailing the fucker or fuckers who are behind this shit. That’s all you need to know.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna be enough, asshole. Why is this file even in your house? These papers, right here. These are police reports. As in original fucking documents, mister. That means either you guys fuck cops up the ass, or they fuck you up the ass. So which is it, huh?”

“No one is fucking anyone up the ass. Unless it’s my dick going up your tight little hole, Hotlips.”

Her head tilts to the side and her lips twitch and I know she’s fucking wiggling her tongue piercing as she thinks about what to say next. Her brows lower and her eyes narrow until they are tiny slits. She points a finger at me, then clenches her hand into a tight fist. Her hand relaxes and the finger comes up again as she stands up on the couch. She pokes the finger into my chest.

“What does Broken Deeds do? How do ya’ll earn your money?”

“Club business.”

She makes a sound that makes it perfectly clear what she thinks about club business.

“As president you can choose to tell your ol’lady. So fucking tell me.”

I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her against my chest.

“You ain’t got your property patch yet, Hotlips. Besides, this club lives by a very different set of rules. Haven’t you noticed that yet?”

“Rubbing the ink in my face again, seriously?”

“Ink isn’t rubbed in, love. It involves needles, you know that.”

She actually growls and jumps off the couch.

“Are you undercover or something? Is this whole club a fucking charade? Or is it the CIA or FB-fucking-I involved in this shit? Are you guys cleaning up a mess they can’t get their slippery hands on? Fuck! What did you pull me in to, Deeds?"

“Since I don’t want to lie to you, I’m going to ignore all those questions that just rolled off those hot lips of yours.”

She shoots me an evil look and starts to pace the room. Back and forth, back and forth. She drags her hands into her hair and pulls it, hard. Fuck, she might pull it all out and throw it at me. That’s how pissed off she looks. But I can’t give her any information about club business. That shit isn’t mine to share. She shakes her head to calm herself down. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she walks back up to me.

“How long have you guys been working on this?” Her voice is soft as silk. “Can you at least tell me that?”

“About two months. Right after they found the boy who was beaten and murdered. By then, they’d already taken four boys. All things seem to trace back to Lepack, except there was and still is no hard evidence.

Nothing concrete enough to nail their asses to the wall. Since they had a little body on their hands and a new one gone missing, a judge issued a search warrant. They didn’t find shit. That’s when they brought the case to us.”

“They? You said
they
took four kids. Lepack isn’t alone in this?”

“No, he has two brothers, one older and one younger. They live on an old pig farm. The pictures are in the file. We don’t know if it’s just him or if his brothers are involved as well.”

She bends down to pick up the papers, straightening them and setting them back in the folder before handing it to me. “Well, good luck catching them.”

I take the folder from her outstretched hand as she steps around me and walks into the kitchen. Obviously she’s fucking pissed at me. She couldn’t resist asking those questions and I know she’s already thinking things through. I want her thoughts, I need her on this case.

Seems like I need to pressure her into helping me. Dammit, that’s gonna be a pain in the ass, especially since she wants answers about the club and I can’t fucking give her those.

Walking into the kitchen, I place the file on the kitchen table. She’s standing by the counter, pouring herself another cup of coffee. Drawing a deep breath, I decide to go for the normal upfront, lay-it-all-out-there approach.

“I left the file for you to find, okay? Me and the guys have gone through that shit  every damn day and we’re not any further than we were on day one. I need a fresh set of eyes. Yours. Will you at least look everything over and give me your opinion?”

Nothing. Not even an eye twitch. It’s like I didn’t fucking say a word. Fuck! We’re back to the not speaking thing? Shit. She’s got another thing coming if she thinks I’ll  fucking wait hours, if not days, for her to speak again. Fuck that.

I walk up behind her and I trap her against the kitchen counter. My hand fists in her dirty blond hair and I pull her head to the side so I can bite my favorite spot on her neck. She presses back into me with that tight ass of hers. When she moans, I release her neck and slide my lips to her ear.

“Work with me on this. You were born into a fucking MC, you know how this shit goes. I can’t give you the answers you want right now. Hell, I might never get to tell you. Other shit, yeah. I’ll fucking tell ya. You listening, Lips? I ain’t holding back this part of the information ‘cause I don’t trust you. It’s because my hands are tied. What you want isn’t mine to share.
You
need to trust
me
on this.”

“Just Lips, huh? I gather the hot part has already worn off?”

The corners of my mouth turn up as I chuckle. Typical how she picks that part to question, instead of all the shit I just laid out. Pressing my rock hard cock into that fine piece of ass, I let her know she is most definitely wrong about that.

“Yeah, Lips. The guys start calling you that, it’s your club name. I’m the only one who gets to call you Hotlips, and they sure as fuck won’t be calling you hot. They settled with Lips. Suits you just fine, don’t you think? They all know both sets are off limits to everyone but me. The hot part? All mine. Even when your lips are frozen shut, you’re still gonna be hot as fuck for me.”

***Lynn***

Great. Just fucking great. I’m gonna go through life as Lips from now on. Top or bottom ones? Eh, fuck it. Who cares? Oh, hell. My neck itches and because I’m distracted, I don’t think about it and let my nails scrape over the stiches.

“Drop it. You know you can’t scratch them, they need to stay in there a few more days.”

My hand drops, but not because I’m listening to him. Fuck no! It’s because I just pulled a stitch and I see the blood on my fingers.

“Aw, fuck, Hotlips. See what you did?”

He walks to the table where the first aid kit is still sitting. Popping it open, he searches for something then turns to me. He pushes some gauze down on the tiny gap.

I’m still very annoyed when I say. "Technically it's your fault I’m bleeding, you know that, right?"

The fucker chuckles and he feathers kisses along my neck. "How's that?"

"How about, you annoy the shit out of me? Now give me that." Snatching the gauze from his hand, I press it against the stitches as I walk away from him. "Just leave the file and I'll look it over. I'll take notes if I think of something, okay?"

The grin on his face tells me he feels very satisfied he got his way. "Appreciate it. We need a break in this case; we need to save those boys."

I can't even think of those little boys. It's heartbreaking. They need to be found and those fuckers responsible need to be brought to justice. The way Deeds says 'This Case' makes me think back on the other stuff he said. Especially the answers he won't give me. I just know there's more to this MC. Yet, its hardcore rules seem to eliminate the possibility of being involved with the government. Fuck, why doesn't he just answer my questions?

"Just this case?” I ask “Or do you want me to help out with other cases as well?"

He shakes his head. Fuck, he knows I'm fishing. He steps closer to me and grabs my hand. Pulls the gauze away and looks at it. "The bleeding has stopped for now. No more scratching, ya hear?"

"I can't help if it itches!"

"That means it's fucking healing. But you’ve gotta let it heal, not scratch it wide open again."

Fuck him, just a few more days and Blue will pull out those stitches. Without even thinking about it, my hand goes to my blackened eye. The bruising has turned into all different colors, yet Deeds acts like my face isn’t even busted up.  He catches my fingers and his voice softens.

"Did you make the grocery list for me yet, beautiful?"

Ha! Smooth, real smooth. I roll my eyes. "I'll make one now, dickface."

He laughs and dodges my sad attempt to punch his gut.

“Do you want Goffa with you or Broke?”

He’s actually giving me a choice? I think about it a few seconds before I answer. “It might be better if you send Goffa over. I’m still too pissed off to have Broke around me.”

He nods and turns to leave the kitchen but then stops. “Before I forget, there’s a club party tomorrow night. We need to be there.”

Great. I’m really looking forward to see how this MC gets a party going. Not. But I doubt I have a choice in the matter. Remembering my last time at the clubhouse, my face scrunches up when I think about that annoying little ho who tried to butt into my conversation with Mila. Mila wasn’t too bad. Scratch that, she was actually very nice. More than likely because she’s an ol’lady and not some random ho out looking for dick.

Giving Deeds a nod to let him know I heard what he said, I keep my mouth shut. As he starts toward the door, he adds,