Resurrecting Ghosts (MC Romance) (Kings of Chaos Book 4) (8 page)

“I co-own the Chaos Bar and Grill with my best friend, Shadow.”

“Don’t any of you have
real
names?” my mother asks.

“Of course we do, but it takes respect and trust to learn them.”

Boom. Get her baby.
I mentally cheer him on as the conversation goes back and forth with thinly veiled barbs.

“Respect, that’s an interesting word.”

“Hmm,” he says

“How do you know my daughter?”

“I’ve known her for years through Blue.”

Mom rolls her eyes.

I grit my teeth.

Skull stiffens.

“Of course, that’s how you met. How long has this been going on?”

“Over six months. The more important thing you need to know is it won’t be ending anytime soon. So, we’ll just have to get used to each other and agree to disagree on some things.”

My mother sputters.

“Tables set, let’s eat.” I place a gentle hand on Skull’s shoulder and squeeze.

“We’ll be talking tonight,” my mother seethes.

“Oh, I planned on it.” I fix her with a hard look. Regardless of her opinion, Skull is a guest in her house and my man. Her behavior is appalling, and boundaries are long overdue.

***

Skull

It’s a verbal duel. Shots are being fired between mother and daughter like an old spaghetti western. As I watch the interaction between Ruthie and her mother, her aversion to opening up to others is finally explained. Her mother has a,
my
way or the highway
attitude. I get that her ex left her and it messed with her head. It doesn’t give her the right to take her issues out on her children. Or should I say, kid? I don’t see Rochelle getting any of the same treatment. I see the family dynamics. Rochelle is the baby and the darling. With her tax accountant husband and Rowan, she’s living the All American Dream. Physically, Ruthie and Rochelle are similar. They have the same dark red hair, green eyes and slight builds. Where Ruthie’s skin is all peaches and cream, her sister looks like a porcelain doll.
Boring.

I reach down and squeeze Ruthie’s thigh. To show my support. She turns to me with big eyes, and I lean in and capture her lips. She moans and I slip my tongue in her mouth. If her mother is going to bitch, we’ll give her a reason for it. We part for air. “Relax,” I whisper against her lips. I pull back and nod, pleased with Ruthie’s dazed expression.
Mission accomplished.

Ruthie clears her throat. “Mom, can you pass the rolls? I’m pregnant,” she blurts out.

“What?” Her mother’s knife clatters onto her plate.

“The rolls, please,” Ruthie repeats.

“You really are following in your father’s footprints, aren’t you?” her mother accuses in a venomous tone.

It’s a tone that has me reconsidering my stance about not hitting women.

“Are you kidding me?” Ruthie replies.

“You’re too young to remember what it was like being taunted by—by those damn bikers.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, lost by the quick switch in topic.

“Oh, you didn’t tell him, did you?” An evil smile curls her lips up. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my ex-husband, Gunner Gruppe.”

I go silent, as I try to place the familiar name.

“You had no right to do that!” Ruthie jumps up. Her chair slams onto the hardwood floor.

“Why? Are you worried about what he’ll do? You should know in detail after your father’s books. Those damn publications ruined us. Now, you go back to the source?”

“No. Dad’s inability to think about others, alcoholism, and drug use did that.”

Gunnar Gruppe… Gunnar—
the truth hits me over the head like a sledge hammer. Gunner Greg is the writer known for getting in bed with an M.C. and writing a lengthy, detailed novel about their inner workings. “Is she telling the truth?” I ask, seeing red.

“Yes.” Ruthie hangs her head.

“Get your shit, we’re leaving.”

“The hell you are!” her mother crows.

“Shut up, Mother. You’ve done enough damage for one evening,” Ruthie says softly.

“No, if you leave here, I’ll never see you again,” her mother pleads.

What kind of man does this bitch take me for?
“She just told you she’s pregnant with my child. Currently, she’s the safest one in this fucking room. So, you’ll sit your ass back down and keep your trap closed. You got what you wanted from that announcement.” I glare at Ruthie. “Now.”

She jumps up, scrambles to the side table by the couch to grab her purse and returns to my side. I can hear Rowan crying, but it sounds like it’s coming from a greater distance. My head is full. Boiling anger bubbles too close to the surface. I grab her arm and pull her away from the table. “Does Blue know?” I ask wondering how deep this deception went.

“No one knows around here. We left Los Angeles when I was ten and cut all the ties we could, changed our last name, kept a low-profile. The divorce was ugly. As you can imagine, not everyone was a fan of the shit he wrote about. It made things dangerous for us.”

“No fucking kidding. I can’t believe you kept this shit from me. That you let me sleep with you knowing—”

“I am not my father.”

“You think the club will see it that way? If you’d come out at the start yes, but girl, you kept this quiet for years.” I shake my head. “Fuck! You got us both into some shit. Give me the keys.”

She hands them over without protest.

I focus on the drive. I slam the car into park when we reach her house. Silence stretches between us. We get inside and I back her against the wall, wrapping my arm around her throat. “All this time, you got me groveling over some bitch giving me head when you’ve been hiding this? Did it get you off? Were you laughing at me?”

“No,” she croaks.

I tighten my hold in warning. “You speak when I tell you to and not before. Nod, so I know you understand.”

She gives a quick nod.

“I don’t do trust, especially not with bitches. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and my fucking seed. You got my kid inside you right now and I find out this bullshit?” I shake my head fuming. “I don’t even know what the fuck to do with you right now. If you were anyone else, you’d be dead.”

She blinks up at me.

I see the shock in her eyes. “We keep the club safe at all costs. How the fuck am I supposed to take you on now, huh? How can I trust you to keep my shit secret?” I rest my forehead against hers.

Her eyes flicker with emotions.

“Speak,” I breathe the word out with fire and venom.

“‘Cause I kept this shit quiet all my life. I’d have taken it to my grave if it wouldn’t come back on you. I been trying to tell you this entire month.”

“That’s why you been funny? Cause you knew this shit was going to be a problem?”

She nods. Tears slide down her face.

I want to choke her and comfort her in that moment. “You playing me, little girl?”

“It would be easy if I didn’t give a fuck. Can’t change my DNA, no matter how much I wish I could.”

I knew that feeling. “No more secrets?” I study her from beneath lowered lids.

“No more,” she agreed.

“My father killed himself after he killed my mother.”

She gasps as she goes pale in the face.

And I’m just proving how like my father I am.
I release her, disgusted with myself. I step back and take a deep breath.

She clutches her neck. Her mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out.

“Now I guess we both know each other’s dirty little secrets.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

I shrug. “You know I got to bring this to the Pres, right?”

She closes her eyes. “W-what is he going to do to me?”

“I have no fucking idea, and that’s a problem.” I look at the woman I was so sure I knew and scowl. “I don’t trust you, Ruthie. Not fully. I will keep you safe for my child’s sake. I’m going to make you my Old Lady and vouch for you. And you’re not going to make me regret it, are you?”

“No,” she whispers.

“Good. This shit we had going on before. That’s done. I’m not bending over backwards. You’re going to learn what it is to be a proper Old Lady, and when others are around, you’re damn sure going to play the role.”

Her eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“Whatever the fuck I tell you it does.”

“Bullshit. That’s not how Blue and Shadow work.”

“Do we look like Blue and Shadow to you?” I ask.

She looks away. “No.”

“Then stop comparing us.”

“This how it’s going to be now? You being a total ass to me?”

“Don’t turn this shit around on me—”

“You had your own secrets,” she bites back as she rubs her neck.

“I gave you a chance to get out. You got a few more weeks before it’s final.”

My head whipped to the side with her palm to my cheek. I growl and pin her body to the wall. “Do not fucking hit me again.”

“Don’t say things like that about my baby.”

“Our…”

“Not when hints about abortion roll off your tongue so damn easily.”

The pain in her voice crawls under my skin and hits the part of my dark heart she’s brought back to life. “Just stating a fact. I didn’t say it’s what I want to happen.”

“Don’t you get it? I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not going to change my mind in mid-stream,” she says.

“Don’t know what I do or don’t know about you now.”

“Don’t do this.”

I turn away from her pleading expression. “Go get changed, we’re going to see the Pres.”

“Just like that?” She snaps her fingers.

“That’s what I said.”

“We haven’t resolved anything.” She pushes off the wall shocking me as she comes toward me with fire in her eyes.

This bitch is ballsy as fuck.
“Ain’t anything you can fix that fast.”

“We didn’t come this far to get knocked back to the starting line. I committed to this family, all but told my mom to fuck off, and I refuse to live in a toxic wasteland like I grew up in. I know you’re mad. You have every right to be, but so do I.” She grips the edge of my cut. “I’ll admit I’m fucked up and I was wrong, but to me that puts us on even ground.” She flicks her tongue across my lips.

“You’re playing with fire right now. I don’t know if I want to fuck you or beat your ass.”

“Let’s go with the first option.”

“You sure you’re ready for me right now?” I ask, aching to punish her pussy for what she held back.

“Give it to me, babe. Show me this isn’t done yet,” she says softly.

I rake my gaze over her body. The white dress hugs her breasts, shows off her tiny waist and puffs out like some sort of frosted cupcake. She looks like she stepped out of the fifties. I want to sully her. “Face the wall.” I snap her ponytail holder off spilling her hair down her back and spin her around. Her breathing grows ragged. I tug her hair and peer down into her gaze. Her eyes are dilated and darker than usual. I bite her bottom lip. She cries out. The sound makes my dick hard. I curl my arm around her, and squeeze her breasts, hard. She whimpers. I wrap my hand around her neck. “Lift your skirt up to your waist.”

Her hands shake as she complies.

The lacy white underwear has my cock hard. There’s an innocence to her I can’t get enough of. I continue to rough handle her swollen breasts, pinching her thick nipples through her dress. I skim my hand down her waist and into her underwear. She’s soaking wet and hot. I shove two fingers into her pussy. She cries out and I tighten my grip. “That’s right, squeeze my fingers with that tight little pussy of yours. You’ve been a bad little bitch keeping secrets. I’m going to show you what happens to bad girls.” I find the hard circle of her G-spot and stroke it over and over.

She reaches back and grips my jeans. Her hips rock back against me. Her body quivers, and her walls contracts. She throws her head back and screams. Her cream coats my fingers. “Too much. I—I can’t.”