Cowboy Bikers MC Lawmen by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER SEVEN
– FRANKIE –
I throw the bundle of tissues into the trash and pull my pants up and straighten the rest of my clothes. My mind is still running a hundred miles an hour and it’s mostly about the fact Atticus claimed me in front of his VP mere minutes ago. Without telling or discussing with me where we stand, I might add.
My eyes slide to the neanderthal in question and he’s standing near the door, huge freaking smile in place as he waits for me to become presentable. Ugh. He just spit out his cum and is done while I have to clean up the mess and let’s not forget the whole leaking out part. I have no clue how long it will continue to trickle out. I mean, it’s still ongoing and coating my freaking underwear, how much did he spray me with? The bonus package?
Maybe I should have taken him up on the offer to get to his room and take that shower I feel I definitely need sometime soonish. But I couldn’t take time to do all of that while Fisher has a lead on the case.
“Stop smiling,” I grumble. “Or I’ll find a way to have you leaking stuff out of your body.”
If it’s even possible, his grin grows. “Sweetheart, I’m still hard knowing my cock claimed that pussy of yours as mine and mine alone and how no one has touched what’s mine. Knowing you’re filled to the brim with my cum? Coating your panties while it’s clinging to you for the rest of your day? Fuck. Pure torture. More when I think about giving that sweet spot between your legs some time to heal because you’re too sore for me to slide balls deep again. That right there is utter torture.”
I can feel my cheeks flame up and I still can’t believe I agreed to his claim while my mind was still wrapped up in post orgasm status.
And I have no clue what to say to his statement, other than, “Is that what you have in mind with the whole old lady part? Me being only allowed to have sex with you?”
His grin slides into a smirk. “Do I need to enlighten you about–”
“A relationship? How this thing is going to work between us and what you have in mind long term? Yes. I believe we should have had this conversation before you threw out your so-called claim.” I put my hands on my hips and wait for his answer, suddenly thinking Fisher can wait because I really do need to hear his answer and I’m thinking he can do it within two minutes flat.
I mean, how hard can it be to answer my questions honestly?
“You’re mine,” the man simply says as if that makes sense.
This might take longer than a minute or two, my mind offers.
“Me yours, you mine,” I grunt like a caveman and slam my fist against my chest for the hell of it and then return to my own voice when I say, “And now the normal people version, please. Are we in a monogamous relationship? You’re not going to demand I move in here with you, are you?”
A sigh rips from him, carrying a weight of annoyance as if I’m asking him to hand over a manual so we can go through everything word for word.
“Never mind. Screw you, and screw your claim. If you don’t even want to spare a second or two to explain what–”
“My cock belongs only to you the way your pussy is mine. No-fucking-one will touch you and I don’t want to so much as look at another chick because I only have eyes for you. This is long term and there’s a horse in the stable trained to be yours and she will be transferred to your name today to show you how serious this shit between us really is. Are we clear? Or do we need to talk some more because I was expecting you to move in here with me but the way your mouth is pinched, I’d say we’ll save that discussion for some time down the road when you’re ready for it. But I do feel the need to warn you I expect you in my bed each fucking night.” I’m about to sputter but he holds up his hand. “Whichever bed we’ll be in, mine or yours.”
“Fine,” I huff, not really knowing what else I should say. “But this negotiation is far from over because I don’t want to have Baby in my name but she is mine, no mistake there. I’ll ride her every day but she stays where she belongs.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Didn’t expect anything less.”
“Now let’s go see if we can get a break in the case,” I tell him and he swings the door open for me.
Fisher is leaning against the wall to the left and is now a few inches from me when he says, “Finally.”
“Asshole,” I squeak and in a reflex I punch him against his shoulder.
He chuckles and pushes off the wall. “Nice reflexes.” He shoots me a grin and rolls his shoulders. “But you hit like a girl.”
“Newsflash: I am a girl,” I snap, wanting to punch him again.
Until he says with a load of respect, “Newsflash. You’re not a damn girl. You’re an old lady. The prez’s old lady to be exact and a perfect fit if you ask me. Now, wanna hear all about how I found out the last victim had an online friend who she talked to daily and mentioned details about her new man?”
“Seriously? Do you have the chat transcripts?” I question, deliberately skipping over the compliment he threw my way. One that makes me feel welcome and appreciated all in one go.
“Sure do,” the man says and holds up a stack of papers.
I take the stack from him and glance them over.
It doesn’t take long before I ask, “She mentioned her boyfriend was an administrator at the police station?” I connect my gaze with Fisher. “An administrator?”
Fisher shrugs. “He could have told her anything and she would have believed him. From the conversations with her online friend and her being an introvert…I’d say this fucker picks his easy prey and smooth talks his way into their life before going in for the kill.”
“There’s not much of a description in their chat other than the guy has black hair,” I muse. “And we haven’t found any footage of security feeds or anything of the victims along with what might have been the killer around the time of their deaths.”
“We’ll get something,” Fisher says with a load of determination. “I have a prospect running a list of all administrative functions and personnel.”
“That’s going to be a long list since the killer can very well be someone who lives out of state, you’re aware of this fact, right?”
Fisher winces at my statement and reluctantly nods. “Yeah, but we gotta start somewhere.”
“True. Okay, I’m going to swing by my place to pick up a couple of things. How about I help you go over the list and maybe we can narrow down some names when we cross track dates of the murders and when they would have been working? Since you guys seem to be able to gather all different information it wouldn’t be as hard to log into the system and run dates, right?’
Fisher simply grins and heads for church. “Come find me when you’re back,” he throws at me over his shoulder.
Atticus, who has taken in our discussion without saying one word, now raises his eyebrow at me. “You’re heading home?”
I reply by giving him a question of my own. “Want to take me so I can pack an overnight bag?”
“Fuck, yeah. I can make sure you pack enough to hold you here for a few days.” The corner of his mouth twitches while I roll my eyes.
We stroll out to his bike and when I hop on behind him, I let my mind travel over the fact that my life changed drastically the moment I met this man. From being pulled into this case and being able to use a massive team with unlimited access and possibilities, to having a man who literally swooped me off my feet and claimed me.
Hell, the man mentioned one of his horses is now mine; we’re that serious into a relationship. I could say it’s too soon but when something feels so right–especially when I tighten my arms around his waist–I can hardly back away.
Putting my career first and everything else on hold is something I’ve been doing all my life. Hell, it’s self-explanatory when you’re a twenty-eight-year-old virgin. And yes, the one sex-incident I had all those years back definitely doesn’t count. Not when I can still feel Atticus between my legs right now.
My rambling thoughts are brought to a stop when Atticus parks his bike in front of my house. I notice Mysti frantically waving through the window and I quickly wave my hand in the air and make a run inside my house.
Atticus chuckles as he closes the door behind him. “Why do I get the feeling you’re only agreeing to sleep at my place so you can dodge your neighbor?”
I shoot him a glare but in reality it’s funny and I do have to agree with the man a tiny bit, but I won’t let him know so instead I tell him, “Here I thought I was only agreeing because you popped my cherry and now I’m addicted.”
His head tips back and a bark of laughter flows through the room. Yes. I am not going to put my life on hold while I bury myself in work; for once in my life. I’m going to live and taste every bit of freedom reaching for the stars gives me.
Because I’m not settling for less. This doesn’t mean I’m going to drop the ball when it concerns my career or the case I’m working on. It might be the complete opposite. During the time I spent with these guys, I’ve seen them balance everything they like and love about life and turn everything to their benefit.
Their skills are used to solve cases, they get a nice paycheck from it and to release stress and keep everything together they run the ranch. Plus, they ride their bikes and have investments that keep the MC running smoothly.
I envy and respect how they’ve managed to find what they do best. And I’ve been given the chance to join them when I became Atticus’ old lady just now. So, for sure as shit I’m packing a bag and seeing where this wild ride takes me. Hopefully in his bed like he promised me but first we need to work.
Grabbing a backpack from the closet, I throw some clothes and underwear in there along with some toiletries. Everything should be enough for at least a couple of days. I stroll out of my bedroom and walk into the kitchen to check the refrigerator when I hear a knock at the door.
“Can you check the refrigerator and make sure no fungus will spread in there the upcoming days while I get the door?” He looks like he’s about to argue with me, probably wanting to check who is at the door himself, but reluctantly nods and stalks into the kitchen.
Checking the peephole, I see my father’s partner standing on my porch.
Opening the door, I give the man a one-armed hug. “Saul, good to see you.”
“You too, kiddo,” Saul says and rubs my back before creating some distance between us.
“Come on in,” I tell him and I step back to give him the room to enter.
I’m closing the door when Saul rumbles, “You have a visitor?”
“Atticus, can you come out here, please?” I ask, my voice a little louder than normal.
Weirdly enough Saul is wearing a look of distaste but it’s gone the second Atticus steps into the room.
“Saul, I’d like you to meet–”
Saul cuts me off with, “Atticus Wolffield, I know who he is but what is he doing here in your house?”
Saul might have been my father’s partner for a handful of years but he’s never reacted this way and it strikes me as odd.
“Cowboy Bikers MC is handling the RedBorder case, as you very well know since you’ve been pulled off it. I’ve requested Frank’s daughter to work on it along with us so she can finish what her father started,” Atticus supplies with an edge to his voice as if he’s picking up the same weird vibe I’m getting from Saul’s reaction to him.
Saul nods but directs his attention to me. “Can I talk to you for a few minutes? In private?”
“I’ll check your bags and see if you need a few more things,” Atticus states and gives me a look that to me says, “I’m a few heartbeats away if you need me but watch your back.”
“Thanks,” I tell him with a smile and make sure he knows I get the subtle hint.
Saul waits for Atticus to disappear into the hallway before he pulls me into the kitchen to create more distance between us and the bedroom.
“Your father would turn in his grave if he knew you were working with them,” Saul spits in distaste.
My head rears back at the venom in Saul’s voice.
A mixture of shock mixed with anger hits me and I snap, “I will have you know my father would be proud. This MC’s reputation practically has a golden ribbon for how many cases they close. Don’t you want them to catch this killer?”
Saul keeps his gaze pinned on mine and he snaps back, “In my opinion their badges are tainted like any other crooked cop out there. They cause death and destruction like a killer and it’s all legal for them, how is that for a golden ribbon reputation, huh?” He yanks a shaky hand through his hair and releases a deep sigh. “I’m just looking out for you, Frankie. Your father wouldn’t expect anything else from me. Just…watch your back with these guys, they’re not who they seem.”
Confusion washes over me and I can tell Saul isn’t lying.
Stepping closer, I lower my voice and ask, “What are you talking about?”
Saul takes a step closer and whispers, “Run a check about an accident involving a biker and a trucker by the name of Nic Evans, it happened almost three months ago. The trucker ended up dead the next day and the case was labeled closed the same damn day. All while he had a gunshot wound to the head, execution style. They did that because the trucker killed one of their own. That’s the kind of people you hang out with.”
I have no clue what to say and I’m confused because the look in Saul’s eyes and the hatred shooting from them tells me he believes Atticus’ MC is dirty.
“I’ll read up on what you just told me,” I promise him.
His head bobs. “Keep an open mind and make your own decision based on the evidence. It’s what your father always did.”
I’m pretty sure he added the last sentence to drive his point home.
“I always make my own decisions and never without knowing all the details or at least enough to see the truth,” I tell him, wanting Saul to know I won’t let anyone push me into a direction I don’t want to go in.
“It’s all I ask.” Saul glances over my shoulder but I can tell he’s not looking at anything when he finally says, “I should go.”
He’s set to walk out but I take a step in his direction. “Was there something you wanted to talk about or did you just swing by?”
Saul shrugs. “I just wanted to check up on you. It’s been months and with me being pulled off the case a few days after your father…and then I come here and I discover you’re working together with those who pulled me off the case? Never mind…I just…I don’t know. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay, I guess.”
I nod in understanding. “Appreciate it, Saul.”
“Take care of yourself, Frankie,” Saul muses and I watch him leave the house.
My mind is still running over everything Saul mentioned and how he acted when Atticus strolls into the kitchen.
“Nic Evans was a trucker who ran over another cop over a year ago and also a woman and her baby a couple of months before that. I can show you all the details about those cases and the fact we have evidence he ran over Jones, one of our brothers, on purpose too, like the others whose deaths are on his hands. When Fisher and I went to Nic’s house to take him in? The both of us thought he was going to pull a gun on us. His hand went to his back as if his was going to…Fisher handled it correctly because the fucker did have a gun he was reaching for. But like I said, we have all the files. If you want to do the research yourself, we’ll give you carte blanche, whatever you need to make up your own mind.”
“Appreciate it.” It’s all I have for him right now.
Saul is someone I’ve known for years and while I ran into Atticus when I was younger–and he didn’t leave a good impression back then–I’ve only known him for a short period of time. No matter how much my gut is screaming at me to trust him, I have to keep a clear and open mind.
Atticus assesses my face and nods as if we don’t need words to understand one another; he can see right through me to know I’ll make the right decision. Or at least it’s wishful thinking. Because how can you search what lies in your heart or mind when it’s locked deep inside you?
“Clubhouse?” Atticus asks.
“Absolutely,” I agree without thinking.
Saul might have given me food for thought but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him throw me off balance and instantly distrust Atticus and the rest of his men. I feel as if this is exactly what Saul hopes to achieve, which strikes me as odd.
When we stroll out of the house and I’m locking up while Atticus is shoving my stuff into his saddlebags. I notice Saul is chatting with Mysti. She’s flirting hard; the woman likes men of all ages and most definitely when it concerns an age gap.
Atticus choses to ignore them while I raise my hand to give them both a finger wave. The corner of my mouth twitches when I notice Mysti waving me off from the corner of her eye while she quickly focuses back on the man in front of her who holds her interest.
Saul has a wife and kid at home, and while he might not be the biological father of said kid, he is a family man and yet he doesn’t resemble one now when he’s eating up the flirting happening right in his face.
I know it’s not my place to say something because it might be innocent flirting and I do notice he’s stepping away from her as he strolls into the direction of his car, but still. It’s another piece of information I’m filing away in the back of my mind.
There’s a lot of things I need to look into and that’s exactly what I’m going to do as soon as I’m back at the clubhouse and can log into the system. But for now, I’m circling my arms around the powerful body of the man in front of me while the bike roars underneath us, relishing in the moment where nothing matters but the wind in our face and the miles of road up ahead.
