Puck’s Property by Monique Moreau
ChapterSixteen
Since moving in with Ava, it’d been four blissful and fuck-filled days for Puck. The day after his release, he went to the Squad Bar to check things out, confer with Whistle, and get the place into shape. The bar was most definitely a long-term project. First off, most of the waitresses were shit. Several of the Squad’s biker bitches helped out as a favor, but they had to be replaced with a professional waitstaff, pronto. After the shit show he’d witnessed his first day back, he was ready to fire the lot of them. Whistle had convinced him to keep one waitress, the one he was obviously fucking. Puck promised to keep her as long as she wasn’t the thief giving away or selling off their inventory behind their back.
Accompanied by Sage, he’d personally met with the investigator from the Office of Special Investigations. He broke everything down in detail, like the places where they stashed the drugs Kingpin got through the mail. Even the contraband cell phone that was concealed in an electric typewriter Puck had happened to see when he walked into Kingpin’s cell once. They seemed particularly excited by the cell phone.
Sage explained that a phone gave them the opportunity to wiretap and listen in on conversations. Ava had testified against Kingpin at his recent parole hearing, which drove him fucking crazy because it was too dangerous. They’d fought about it. Puck had argued that with an investigation underway, Kingpin would be kept in jail long enough to bust him. It was totally unnecessary to expose herself to potential trouble, but she held strong, and ultimately he’d relented. Her guilt ran so deep that she couldn’t let go of an unnecessary risk. Whatever. They’d made up, and he got to paddle her ass for it. Christ, she was so eager he had to wonder if it remotely counted as a punishment.
After a long day at the bar, Puck wanted to be lounging in bed with his woman, better yet, inside his woman. Instead, his ass was at a clubhouse party in honor of his release. He should be grateful—seeing as brothers from neighboring cities had come in to celebrate his return—but the loud music was grating on his nerves, and he was getting itchy.
The brothers weren’t helping on that front, either. Christ, the bastards were like sharks at the first scent of blood. What had gotten them riled up? Seeing me come in through the clubhouse door with my arm around a woman. Payback was a bitch, and the brothers were making sure Puck felt what a bad bitch she was. All the times he’d mocked, pranked, or downright insulted them were coming back to him tenfold. Didn’t make it any easier to survive, though. Here he was, with one arm hooked around Ava’s waist, gritting his teeth as he sucked up a ton of bullshit thrown his way.
Understandably, Cutter was taking the lead. Puck had been audaciously rude to him when he was trying to lasso in that wildcat, Greta, he now called his old lady.
Pawing at Ava’s shoulder, Cutter said, “Who do we have here? Been a long time—oh, wait, that would be never—since I saw Puck hangin’ onto a woman. What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Av—” began Ava.
Back teeth grinding, Puck cut her off, “None of your damn business, you fucker. And take your hand off my woman.”
His eyes pinched together in pain. Fuck, had he just claimed her in a room full of assholes?
Cutter’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Your wo—what? Did you call her your woman, brother?”
A low whistle came from behind Cutter. “Hey, aren’t you the social worker back at Duchess jail?” piped up Whistle.
Cutter’s head swerved to the side and then back to Puck. “You met up in jail? Damn, and I thought I was dirty. What’d guys do up in there? You’ve been a bad boy, Puck.”
“Yeah, every inmate wished they had a drug problem so they could have appointments with Ms. Evans,” divulged Whistle. Ava’s cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “Even overheard the COs talking about her. Sayin’ how sexy she is.”
That was a fucking given. Even Puck had heard them talk. Yet another reason he loathed Officer Dipshit. Bringing Ava tighter into his side, Puck growled, “It’s not like that. I’ve known Ava since we were kids. Happened to see each other again in there, is all. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”
“Had me checking up on her from jail, though, so it’s a big-ass molehill if you ask me,” interjected Loki, unprompted.
“Didn’t I tell you not to say anything?” snipped Puck.
“Oops,” replied Loki with a wide, mischievous grin. Smacking his lips, he made lewd kissing noises at Puck. “My bad.”
“Gonna get you back for that one,” Puck warned. “And it’s gonna motherfucking hurt.”
“Not scared of you, scrub,” Loki fired back. “It’s worth every damn moment to see you squirm like a little bitch.”
“After the shit he talked when I hooked up with Greta, he finally bites the dust,” mused Cutter.
Ava’s eyes were round as saucers, and her head was probably dizzy from snapping from man to man. His muscles tightened. It was all in good fun, or maybe dirty fun, but he didn’t want his woman thinking badly of him or his brothers. She’d been around the Renegades, but they were a bunch of rich old men who rode on the weekends. The Squad was an entirely different animal, and she was getting a crash course on what a real club was like. Of course, she was used to roughness, working among inmates, but he didn’t want her view of him to change somehow. Fact was, he was feeling edgy. The loud music, the hollering and shouting, the jostling of people. Add a crew of foulmouthed smart-asses, and his nerves were pulled taut.
“Damn, had no idea you were gettin’ it on with Ms. Evans,” Whistle noted.
Puck cuffed him on his head. “Shut the fuck up, prospect.” Whistle hadn’t been a prospect in a while, but he’d been in the most recent batch of brothers to patch in. Hurt flashed briefly over his face. The brothers commonly insulted Whistle, but Puck protected him. Guilt settled uncomfortably in his chest, but he couldn’t apologize in front of fuckers like Cutter or Loki. Plus, the boy had to learn to shut his damn mouth.
“AHHH!” came a scream so loud it almost popped Puck’s eardrums. He shut his eyes and took in a bracing breath of air. He knew that sound anywhere.
Opening his eyes, he saw Sammi flying toward them and slam into Ava. Wrapping her arms around his woman, his little sister jumped up and down, chanting, “Omigod, omigod, omigoooood. It’s true!”
“I told you it was true,” gloated Abby from behind them. Loki immediately hooked his arm around Abby’s neck and drew her in to him.
Stanton stormed in right behind Sammi, looking harried. As he should. Fucker. Puck narrowed his eyes at the bastard who’d deflowered his baby sister. Not deflowered, in truth, but she was a baby. A fuckin’ baby, and the man had somehow weaseled his way into her heart. Granted, he’d ultimately gotten Puck released for Sammi’s sake. Goddamn, his head was splitting from veering from hatred to gratitude and back to hatred again. He was a simple man, who wanted a simple life, where things were black and fuckin’ white. None of this gray shit.
“Ava, look at you. You’re even more gorgeous than I remember!” his sister screeched as she held Ava at arm’s length to take a good look at her. “Puck! I can’t believe you guys are back together. You didn’t mention any of this when I saw you last.” That’s because he was moments away from decimating her fiancé, that’s why. Stanton stepped in closer to Sammi, causing Puck to growl under his breath.
“I had other things on my mind,” he grumbled, giving Stanton the stink eye again. Pondering on how to sabotage his relationship, he watched carefully as Stanton unhooked Sammi from Ava and dragged her into his arms. Hmm, not possible. Sammi tilted her head and beamed up at Stanton. Aww, fuck. Despite his bouts of denial, she was in love with the guy, and one thing he’d never do is mess with his sister’s happiness. His gaze dropped to Stanton’s hand smoothing over Sammi’s flat belly. Not that he’d ever get used to the rich prick mauling his sister in public.
“Can we cool it with the PDA, maybe,” he snapped. Sammi turned stricken eyes at him. Even Ava sucked in a breath and smacked him in the arm. Cutter barked out a laugh.
“Or not,” he backpedaled. PDA was a given in biker culture. Pulling Ava into his embrace, he buried his face in her hair and inhaled her comforting scent.
“Ignore him,” Ava huffed out, although she didn’t fight him when he tightened his arms around her. The number of people surrounding him, the music, the noise was bringing on a migraine, and, like in jail, he returned to his lodestone. Ava.
“How are you, Sammi? It’s so good to see you,” Ava began. “Is this Stanton?”
Puck let out a low sound of disapproval for her ears only. She responded by pressing back into him and rubbing her fine ass against his groin in a way that distracted him from his anger. Fine, he’d back down and let her handle this for him. And so she did. She got caught up with Sammi’s life, teasing her lightly about Stanton in a way that made Sammi blush. Fuckin’ blush. But it was with pleasure, so he couldn’t be anything but pleased that his woman was getting along with his sister and soothing the rough waters.
Noticing her bottle of beer was empty, Puck murmured that he’d get another from the bar. Casting a dubious eye at the crowd, he dropped a kiss on her head before diving into the crush of people to get to the bar. When he returned, he found that Skull, a wiseass from the Albany chapter, had sidled up to Ava and inserted himself in their conversation. Audacious bastard.
Ava was his goddamn prize, and he didn’t appreciate a brother gettin’ up in her space. She wasn’t wearing his jacket, so…brother or no, she wasn’t advertised as his. The God’s honest truth was that he was getting mighty pissed as he listened to Skull asking her questions like whether she’d been around bikers before. Dark energy filled him, like thunderclouds rolling in on clear skies, turning everything an ugly shade of gray.
“When am I gonna see a jacket on her ass? Or hear wedding bells?” Loki cut into his ruminations loud enough for everyone to hear. That brother had his back, making it plain to Skull who Ava belonged to. Not that Puck was going to thank him for his help.
Returning to Ava’s side, he looped an arm around her shoulder and replied, “Not everyone is obsessed with weddings like you. Oh, wait, that’s ’cause you can’t lock your woman down.”
Loki guffawed. “True that. One fuckin’ mistake, and the bitch is giving me a run for my money. No worries, though. I’ll get her to the alter eventually. Specially since she’s carrying my kid.”
It was a sign of how good things were between Loki and Abby that he could crack a joke like that. The man hadn’t smiled for years after his brother killed himself. Puck relaxed a little. He may have come out of jail, but men like Loki had it harder than he did.
“You paddle her ass yet?” piped up Cutter. “It ain’t legit until you paddle her ass.”
“Not every woman’s crazy-ass wild like yours,” drawled Puck. “Some are good girls.” He gave Cutter a wicked grin and a sly wink at Ava, whose eyes had narrowed dangerously. His hand dropped to the bubble of her ass and gave it a long caress. Remembering their session from the other night got him wanting out of there more than ever.
Skull grabbed Ava’s hand and cajoled, “Come on, Ava, you can’t say you’ve been to a Squad party if you haven’t danced, and it’s a damn fact that Puck doesn’t dance. Ain’t that right, Puck?” Puck grunted. “This ain’t no Renegades party. This is a real biker party. Come on.”
Ava threw her head back and gave a throaty laugh that got Puck’s cock on the high alert. “It’s true, he’s not big on dancing. Never has been.” Being his good girl, she gazed up at him and asked, “May I?”
Fuuuck, when she talked all prim and fucking proper with the “please” and the “may,” he turned into a fucking pussy. Without hesitation, he nodded his acquiescence. Skull scooped her out of his grasp and guided her toward the makeshift dance floor.
Whistle turned toward him and began to talk about the problems at the bar. He’d finished going through the inventory and discovered another theft. At least that got the brothers turning their attention away from Puck. Half listening, his keen eyes skated across the clubhouse floor in search of Ava. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted unusual movement at the edge of the dance floor, near the offices.
It was Skull, tugging at Ava’s arm. Talking into her ear, he seemed to be half-dragging her toward the darkened hallway.
Motherfucker. Red suffused Puck’s vision. Everything faded away—the room, the brothers, the noise. Through tunnel vision, he saw his woman being towed away. Roaring at the top of his lungs, Puck shot off and bum-rushed through the writhing masses of dancing figures. Bile rose to his throat. Shouldering through people bumping into him, Puck reached the far end of the dance floor. After a quick side-glance to make sure Ava was unharmed, he tackled Skull like a raging beast. Locked in a destructive embrace, they toppled to the ground.
Skull landed on his back, Puck on top of him. The biker writhed under him to get away. Jerking his head back, Puck slammed his forehead into the bridge of Skull’s nose. There was the sick crunching sound and blood sprayed into Puck’s eyes, momentarily blinding him.
The other biker screeched in pain, releasing Puck to grab hold of his broken nose. “What the fuck was that for?” he bellowed out.
By then, Loki and Kingdom were grabbing at Puck’s shoulders. After a brief struggle, they had him in a choke hold. Doing his best to break their lock, he thundered out, “Lemme at him! Let me get a piece of that motherfucker!”
“Puck, calm your ass down,” Kingdom barked above him. They’d brought him facedown on the ground, arms cinched behind him. The red rage morphed into something dark and deadly.
“Let me up, asshole!” he threatened. Kingdom repeated for him to chill out, but the longer he was in a helpless prone state, the more he struggled. Gnashing his teeth, he began to slam his temple against the ground. Thump, thump, thump. Jolts of pain assailed the side of his head. A pressure the size of a boulder squeezed the oxygen out of every tiny air sac in his lungs. Pain circulated over his chest cavity, and his breaths came out short and choppy.
“Let me go!” he snarled on repeat.
Suddenly, Ava’s knees were in his line of sight. Throwing herself over him, she cried out, “Let him go! You’re hurting him. He can’t breathe!”
The distress in her voice penetrated through the fog of rage. Loki and Kingdom commanded her to get off him. No other man ordered his woman around. Adrenaline pumped through his veins.
“Leave her alone,” Puck howled around the agony searing his head. Her voice sounded far off and muddled, but abruptly, he was hauled to his feet. Warm liquid, most likely blood, flowed from his temple. Opening his mouth, he hauled in a gulp full of air. He did it again but choked on the next one. His vision got fuzzy and dark. Stumbling, he dropped to his knees.
