Part 2 (1/2)
Seconds later, he c.u.ms in the woman's mouth, p.i.s.sing me off further because he's getting off while being a f.u.c.khead to me. It's been a while since I've had to deal with someone's mouth about being in the club, but this kid is new so maybe he doesn't know any better. It's time he learned a thing or two about respect.
The woman gets up from her knees shooting me a death glare, like I want to take this piece of s.h.i.+t from her. Pinch whispers something into her ear before she scurries back inside the bar. Just what I was waiting for.
Pulling out a smoke he lights it, leaning back against the brick wall of the bar.
”Got nothing to say, Casper? Now that the entire club isn't beside you to shut someone down, you don't seem to run your mouth as much.”
He's a hundred percent right. I won't get out of my truck and walk over there looking for a fist fight. Some might call me a p.u.s.s.y for that, but I don't give a flying f.u.c.k. He's also right that if anyone tries to physical with me, my brothers get in their face, because let's be honest, I can't win. And I have no problem letting them do it for me. Just like they have no problem sticking me in the hills, or on the top of buildings to do what I'm best at. We all have our skills and we use them for each other.
Reaching into the back waistband of my pants, I pull out my 9mm Smith & Wesson and point it right at Pinch. G.o.d, I love Missouri's right-to-carry law.
The only light in the back parking lot doesn't give me the best line of vision, but I don't need it at this close range.
Pinch throws his hands in the air when he catches sight of my gun. He was a little slow on the uptake, so I'm thinking he's got to be more than a few beers deep.
”See, Pinch, you fail to realize that I won't fight fair. Yeah, you could probably take me in a fist fight, I got no doubt about that. But I think it's time you understood something. They call me Casper for a reason, you never know when I might just pop up on you, and shoot your f.u.c.king nuts off.”
”You wou-” Before he can finish his sentence, I shoot him in the crotch. He doubles over and hits the hard ground.
”Well d.a.m.n. Isn't that neat? Those rubber bullets don't even make your gun recoil,” I say, c.o.c.king the gun back to look in the chamber. ”Too bad I can only load one at a time,” I say and put in the next one.
”f.u.c.k, Cas. Please, I'm sorry.”
I fire the next one at his a.s.s, and he screams like a b.i.t.c.h.
”Go home, Pinch,” I say, as he starts moaning louder. ”I'm sergeant at arms in this club and you better learn some f.u.c.king respect if you ever hope to see a patch.”
Not waiting for a response, I roll up my window and head to the club. Those d.a.m.n rubber bullets cost three dollars a pop, but it's the best six dollars I've ever spent.
”f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, Cas, I hate when you do that s.h.i.+t,” Pres snaps at me from behind his desk. He is so engrossed in what he's doing he doesn't notice me leaning against the far wall in his office until I clear my throat. It's not hard for me to sneak up on people, but I can't normally do it to Pres. I can tell by the way his hair is sticking out six different ways that he's been running his fingers through it. The dark circles under his eyes show a lack of sleep, because normally Pres isn't too hard on the eyes.
”What the f.u.c.k have I got this f.u.c.king dog for if you can get in here without him noticing?.”
”I told you not to get that mutt,” I say.
”d.a.m.n, Cas. I know I'm not the prettiest, but no need to call me a mutt,” Savage, the clubs VP, says, strolling into Pres's office and plopping down on the couch. It's not a shocker they're both here tonight. Savage never goes to the bar, and Pres never seems to get away from the club.
I know Savage never goes out because he has issues. He's had them since he left the marines when an IED sent him home, thank G.o.d not in a bag. The day Abe had his accident is still burned into my brain.
Sometimes the worst part about being a sniper is that all you can do is watch. See the aftermath of the chaos, and what is left behind. That day the explosion took Abe and left Savage in his place. Gone is the laid back man who would talk for hours about the woman he left behind. He always said he'd marry her when he was back stateside. Now we can't say her name without him getting up and leaving the room.
As for Pres, I'm not sure why he can't pull himself from this place, but tonight I'm glad he's here.
”I ran into a couple of Five Aces tonight.” Pres and Savage both survey my body, looking for damage. ”And Agent Vincent Ca.s.sano,” I finish.
”f.u.c.k me,” Savage growls.
”When it rains it f.u.c.king pours, doesn't it?” Pres says, standing from behind his desk. He makes his way to the front and leans against it. Pulling out his phone, he hits a few b.u.t.tons, and moments later Scribe, the club's secretary/treasurer, walks into the room shooting me a quick wink before sitting down next to Savage.
”Out with it.”
I give him almost every detail of what happened. I left out how many times Vincent made me c.u.m, but they got a lot of it. This wasn't a time to hold back. It's always best your team knows everything, so no surprises can get you.
”He wants you,” Pres says when I finally finish my story.
I just nod in agreement. I don't think Vincent wants me just because of a job he's working, I think he actually wants me. I've been around men my whole life, stuck in small places with them for hours, so I've learned to read them pretty well.
”But you think he's investigating you too?” Pres asks.
I nod again. He knew who I was when he entered that bar. After I realized who he was I replayed everything in my head ”I've wanted to taste you from the moment I first saw you.” He said that like he'd been waiting longer than that night. Because he had been. Who knows how long he's been watching me. I had thought I felt something, a creepy feeling, but I chalked it up to being on edge about the guns being stolen.
”Can't say I blame the guy, I've been trying to get Cas to let me between her legs for years now, and I still do what she tells me to. I can't imagine what she could get me to do if she actually gave me a taste.” Scribe says, shooting me a look I've seen him give women who drop their panties for him instantly.
Scribe is beyond hot. He's what you'd see if GQ decided they wanted to do a cover with a tattooed-up biker on it. Most women just flock to him because of his looks, but I love him because he always makes me laugh. He can also hack into almost anything. I flip him the bird before getting back on topic.
”I'm worried about Texas,” I exhale slowly. ”I don't want it to blow back on the club. And trust me, I know how f.u.c.king stupid it was of me to keep the gun I killed that f.u.c.ker with, but for some reason I couldn't let it go.”
It was beyond stupid of me to hang on to it, and not only that, but it's a stolen weapon. I took it from the Air Force with the sole purpose of killing with it. I needed a gun that couldn't be tracked back to me, so I took one. I killed with it, then kept it. Why? I still don't f.u.c.king know. But now the Five Aces have it in the load of guns they took.
”Who knows, Cas. The gun could be gone forever,” Pres says.
”Yeah, right. I'm not that f.u.c.king lucky.”
”We'll get it back,” Savage says.
”We have to get it back before the cops do. If they get their hands on it I'm done for. They already think I stole a weapon to make the kill, when one went missing from the Air Force. It's the same kind of gun that killed Charlie. If they get that gun, it's an easy closed case for them,” I mutter, feeling the tension build in my shoulders.
”How do you feel about using him, Cas? If he's really on this case and has a hard-on for you, you could play him.”
I know playing with Vincent will be like playing with fire. Not only that, but this will be an up-close-and-personal mission, and that's not what I'm good at. It doesn't help that I don't seem to be myself around him.
”I could. If you think that's what I should do. If it could stop blowback on the club.”
”I can teach you the art of seduction,” Scribe chimes in.
”'Art of seduction', huh? You mean you teach cla.s.ses on jerking off in the back room to Savage's old p.o.r.n?”
”You wound me, Cas,” Scribe teases. Like anything could hurt that man's ego.
”I'm going to shoot you in the a.s.s in a minute,” I say, wis.h.i.+ng I had put another rubber bullet in my gun.
”Is that how you do foreplay? Because that's some serious s.a.d.i.s.t s.h.i.+t you have going on there, Cas.”
Rolling my eyes, I look back at Pres who is staring at Savage. I swear they can communicate telepathically. Pres breaks eye contact with Savage and he swings his gaze to mine. ”I'm more worried about you, Casper. You have more to lose right now.”
”I'll do whatever it takes.” And I mean it. I won't let anything happen to this club. This is the only family I've ever really had. I failed to protect my other family, I refuse to do the same to this one. This time I have the means to actually do it.