In Too Deep (The Lovers Duet) (7 page)

“What about my mother?” I questioned as evenly as possible.

As a woman, I wasn’t allowed to raise my voice or talk to Dizzy in any kind of way. He could order something very distasteful to happen, like all his sons, fucking me one after the other while Linx watched and there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it. I was the lone vagina in the room and this situation made me feel uncomfortable instead of empowered.

They all surveyed me like another piece of meat. I might as well have been club ass but what did I expect with my skinny jeans riding the curves I was quickly beginning to lose and the full breasts that had once been my pride and joy but were now the bane of my existence?

Dizzy glared at me with what I could only describe as cold, desolate eyes. “Your father—that two-timing, no good son of a bitch bastard—died at the right time because if he hadn’t been murdered by persons unknown, I would have killed ‘im meself…personally. Not only was I going to personally shoot his dirty, good for nothing Federal agent ass in the head but I was going to leave Bronaugh for Antoinette. God knows I have been in love with that woman from the first time I met her in Boston. I was just a small time thug at the time with a motorcycle club but she was beauty personified. How she ended up with that no good son of a bitch is beyond me. They were never a good match but her parents liked him so she did what she had to do.”

I couldn’t listen to the rest. I bolted from my seat and ran to the bathroom. It was surprisingly clean but after my loud spatter of vomit straight into the toilet, it was a little less so.

My mother and Desmond Cox? He had to be mistaken.

Unfortunately, something in the bottom of my gut told me he wasn’t.

Chapter Six

LINX WANTED TO check on Trista but the gazes of the four men who studied him were disconcerting to say the least. “What happens now? Do I get beaten into a pulp or something similar?”

“We’re a motorcycle club not a motherfuckin’ gang.” Ronan stared him down with brooding violet-blue eyes. “No, we’re not gonna fuckin’ beat you in, motherfucker. But you better learn to control that woman of yours if you want everything to stay cool. She’s a firecracker and old ladies in the Saints know their place. S’all I’m gonna say.”

Quinn glared at him with ruthless blue eyes. “Why does
this
motherfucker get to jump the line when we got prospects who are waitin’ to get voted in? Hell, I sponsored Connor and he’s been very fuckin’ patient if you ask me. He’s loyal and most of all, he can be trusted, Dad. We don’t know shit about this cunt-bag here.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Cillian murmured to himself. “Will both you eejits shut the fuck up for five fuckin’ minutes. Has the Prez ever had a stupid plan?”

Dizzy laughed out loud. “Forgive my sons’ rudeness, Lennon. They don’t realize your father and Bronaugh are
cousins
and you’re family.”

The twins stared at one another before they glared at their father.

“Yeah, and Trista doesn’t know either so can we keep that quiet for the time being?” Linx lit another cigarette out of nervousness. He usually didn’t smoke that much.

“You didn’t knock up your little piece of jail bait, didja? She’s been in the bathroom for a mighty long time unless she’s layin’ a deuce.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ronan, will you shut the fuck up?” Cillian lit a Marlboro and blew the smoke out of his nose before he finished his Macallan.

“I’m fixed…Trista can’t get pregnant…not right now at least.” Linx didn’t think he owed the fuckwad an explanation but he provided one anyway, even if it was a lie.

“Well, that’s good to know.” Quinn shut his mouth as Trista walked out of the bathroom and sat down beside Linx again. She looked pale beneath her naturally healthy skin and her blue eyes shined with a faded dullness to them.

“I’m sorry about that. I…I lost it when you mentioned my mother. I have never known her to be anything other than a decent woman and…to think…I don’t know what to think about her now because I keep asking myself how the hell she was ever involved with you?” Her blue eyes were daggers and she seemed quite upset.

Dizzy shook his head. “Your mother
was
a decent woman and she didn’t cheat on your father if that’s what you’re thinkin’. Me and her…that was never gonna happen. She didn’t deserve this life and I wasn’t ever going to saddle her with it either. I’m so very sorry I’m doing to her daughter what I could not—in good conscience—do to her.”

She braced her hands on the table and Linx turned to her and knew she was beyond pissed off. “How the hell did you get my brother out of the Demon’s Bastards. Club affiliation is for life unless you’re kicked out. What will he think when he gets back to find out he’s no longer Sergeant-at-Arms or a Bastard but a Saint?”

Dizzy glared at Linx and he got the message loud and clear:
Control your bitch or I will do it for you.

“Baby, calm down. I’m sure the Prez has a very good explanation.”

“I didn’t sign up for this shit, Linx. That’s the reason I married you because you weren’t involved in the life and as soon as I think I am free from all the shit, I get pulled right back in it. I don’t want you to hate me and I know why you’re doing this but since we don’t know whether Trey is alive or not…maybe it isn’t worth it.”

“Trey isn’t dead—that I can assure you,” Dizzy explained calmly and with a quiet defiance. “He is also my son and there is no way in hell I would even risk trying to get him back and putting the club on lockdown if I wasn’t so sure he was very much alive and breathin’.”

Trista’s face paled and he could see the conflict in her gorgeous blue eyes. “What the
fuck
does that mean—how the
hell
is he your son?”

Ronan glared at Linx with a warning look, which easily read,
Back your bitch off and shut her the fuck up.

“It’s quite simple, really. Before Toni was viciously taken away from me by that asshole father of yours, me an’ her
 
had a thing goin’ on. I loved her and would have sent Bronaugh packin’ but she couldn’t handle bein’ an old lady. She didn’t want anything to do with the club life. Not that I could blame her. She came from money and expected certain things out of life and didn’t want to live one where she could lose the man she loved at any given moment.

“Violence in our world is a reality,” Dizzy continued with a solemn expression on his face. “She’s the only woman I ever really truly loved and when she chose your father over me, I was heartbroken, devastated to the core of my being. I just knew Tim wouldn’t want her after he found out she was knocked up with our kid but I underestimated that prick. Turned out he’d do things I wouldn’t have done because if the situation had been reversed and she’d chosen me but been pregnant with his kid, I would have made her have an abortion.

“Tim didn’t think that way and he reared Trey as his own…same way my own son here is raisin’ Trey’s kid as his own—”

Cillian slammed his fists on the table. “Na, Pops, Caitlin is
my
daughter. Trey was the sperm donor for the whore I married and divorced but she will never call any
motherfucker
‘Daddy’ but me—you feelin’ me, old man?
Your
son is nothing to me and the moment that son of a bitch steps near me and tries to take Caitlin will be the day I put a bullet in his head without thinkin’ twice…if someone hasn’t done that already.”

“
Enough!
” Trista cried out, shocking the shit out of everyone at the table. “I get it. Trey is your son and that is how you got him into the LS fold and made Jonesy give him up but…how do we go about lookin’ for him? I miss him and I want him back here in the States, safe and sound. How do we do that without getting ourselves shot and killed?”

“Well, first your hubby here needs to get patched in and then we’ll talk about a game plan but remember your place, woman.” Dizzy’s bright smile was uncomfortable, mirthless, and infuriating. “You will officially be an old lady and you only have so much power. You don’t get to waltz in here like you own the joint and order me or any of the club members around.

“I need to get specifics from the club in Belfast before you leave to go get Trey and when you do go, Ronan and Quinn will accompany you and Lennon. There will be no theatrics or heroics on your part and you will do as you’re told or you won’t accompany the boys at all. First off, how’s your aim?”

“Mine is fine. I practice twice a week at an exclusive gun club in Beverly Hills,” Linx spoke up. “I prefer a nine millimeter but I am comfortable with a variety of weapons. I have practiced with both an AK-47 and the Steyr AUG. Personally, I prefer the Steyr to the Avtomat Kalashnikova because you have more control and it is an all-around better assault rifle if you ask me. Plus it has a scope and I don’t get off on shooting the wrong people.”

Quinn whistled smoothly. “Looks like our newest members knows his guns. Since you’re such an expert, we’ll put you on weapons detail. You will be the Sergeant-at-Arms as a stand-in until we’re able to get Trey home. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were born for the club life.”

“I was.” Linx’s muscles twitched in his jaw as his cornflower blue eyes hardened. “I chose to be a rock star instead. I have been running from violence my whole life and this isn’t how I imagined I would be at the age of twenty-six…well, my birthday is in a few weeks, just days before Trista’s…so I will soon be twenty-seven. However, given the recent events, looks like I don’t have a choice.”

Ronan leaned closer. “You always have choice but just understand if you aren’t willing to go all the way with the club then you and Trista won’t be taking that trip to Belfast and if you attempt to defy us, we’ll make sure you have no protection. Is that what you want?”

Dizzy glared at Cillian. “Bring the rest of the brother’s inside. Trista, darlin’ why don’t you go help out the old ladies with preparing dinner?”

He watched as his wife shot up from the table. “This is so fucked up. You led us here under false pretenses when all this time, you knew you were going to make Linx join the Club. You know how I feel yet my feelings mean fuck all—”

“That’s right, bitch.” Ronan glared at me with cold violet-blue eyes. “You have a purpose in the Club, and it isn’t running that pretty little mouth of yours now…Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Linx hated the way Trista stared at him but there was nothing he could say at that point. Regardless, he knew he would hear an earful that night.

Chapter Seven