Home > Broken Deeds MC : Second Generation #1(9)

Broken Deeds MC : Second Generation #1(9)
Author: Esther E. Schmidt

Hadley’s eyes close as she lets her hands go through her black with purple highlighted hair, snagging the band off her wrist to tie it into a messy bun on the top of her head.

When she’s done she glances at me and snaps with a monotone voice, “No.”

Shit. Diamond–her stepmother–told me how Hadley had sworn off all men after one date with an asshole who she had a crush on. No one knows what happened on that date but since that day she might have mentioned something about becoming a fish person.

A different variation from a cat person. Hadley likes her goldfish. She lives above the shop here and hardly ever leaves the building. It’s why we don’t meet as much since I’m always either at home or the clubhouse. I used to join Archer at the shop before we had Queenie, but things most definitely changed since her birth.

It’s only been a few months but it sure feels like a lifetime. I make a promise to myself to swing by more often. I follow Hadley into her room where she cleans her chair in silence before grabbing her notebook to start sketching.

Enthralled I watch how she designs a geometric jellyfish. Curvy lines, the tentacles flowing everywhere until they all end up underneath a big head. Kinda like all the cases I went over this morning. The tentacles being all the separate murders until all lives come to an end with a bullet. They move on their own and yet it’s all connected by a hard line.

Wavy ends as were their lives until they all come together. Their rap sheet, though some claimed to be innocent of the last crime they were linked to. And yet the DNA evidence, tying them to the case, was a hard fact to deny their innocence. I know they weren’t all arrested by the same cop, nothing is bringing those leads to a center point.

Maybe I need to check their rap sheets again, go over the process of their arrest and the case the cops had. Every single victim was a criminal, that has to mean something. Hadley looks up and I give her a smile and a finger wave as I grab my backpack and leave her room to take a seat in the back of the waiting room.

Taking out my laptop, I wait for it to fire up before I check for police stations, distractions, labs working with DNA evidence, everything that might give me a lead.

“You hacked into the police database? Because for sure as fuck I didn’t give you any access,” Archer remarks from beside me.

I grab hold of my laptop and drag it awkwardly against my chest while I grumble, “Do you have to scare the crap out of me?”

“I’ve been sitting here for almost ten minutes watching your fingers dance across the keyboard, waiting till you finish your search or take a breathing pause, notice me, whatever…but you’re so engrossed, you just kept going.”

I shoot him a glare. “That’s because I almost have a link but I’m not certain yet. Do you think I can make a few calls to relatives of the victims?”

His mouth turns into a flat line. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you talking to criminals and those related to them and exposing yourself. You’re high risk with being the president’s old lady, adding the fact that you now also work cases increases said risks.”

“Then why ask for my help if you set limitations? And you do know a few calls wouldn’t expose me, right? I could easily use another name to cover my ass,” I snap and shut down my laptop before I shove it into my backpack and stand. “Are you done here? I’d like to go home.”

“Fine,” he snaps back and directs his attention to Baton. “I’m heading home, are you closing up?”

“Will do, Prez,” Baton says as Archer places a hand on my lower back and guides me out of the shop and to his bike.

This time I don’t enjoy riding on the back of his bike. I’m annoyed, though I understand his need to keep me–and our daughter–safe and out of the part of solving cases. This because it might attract attention of people with bad intentions if I start poking around in lives wrapped with danger.

But still, why the hell ask me to help? Is he having doubts and regrets about me and my abilities? Maybe that’s it. Or the fact I didn’t exactly follow their official protocol since he caught me hacking into the system instead of asking him for access. Whatever. He can do everything himself; he’s good at handling and pulling everything to himself.

I dash off the bike as soon as he’s parked and grab the keys to open the door to our house. Placing my backpack in the hallway, I throw my keys on the little shelf next to the coat rack, kick off my shoes, and head upstairs. Screw him.

“Bee, wait,” Archer says, frustration lacing his words.

“Shove it, Prez,” I sneer. “We’re home, you made yourself clear and all I want now is a hot shower.”

“What the fuck, Bee?” Archer growls.

I stomp up the stairs and get out of the discussion. I don’t even know why I’m this angry or why I’m taking this so hard. To be honest? I don’t even care. It was a nice distraction while it lasted. Now it’s time to take a shower, put on some sweats, grab a good book, and enjoy what’s left of my evening before morning comes way too soon.

Another day to spend with my daughter and also my appointment with my mother to shop for some new clothes. Though, I don’t have any interest in feeling pretty or so much as dressing up. Instead of helping the MC I might look into volunteering again; visiting elderly people. At least I could take Queenie with me, she always manages to give elderly people a smile. Volunteering always made me feel good about myself, and it’s something I really need back.

I close the bathroom door behind me and shut the outside world out along with it. I turn on the water so it can heat up and start to step out of my jeans while my mind is going over the books I have on my to read list. My brain needs an escape from reality, that’s for damn sure.

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR


– ARCHER –

 

Holy shit. All the anger and frustration drain from my body and it’s replaced by instant lust the second I open the door to the bathroom. The visual before me has my dick aching and my heart leaping.

Bee is bent over, shoving her jeans down to her ankles and her ass is facing me. A hidden by bright pink lace pussy on show. I want nothing more than to fall to my knees and bury my face between her legs to inhale the sweetness I know her body possesses.

But I know for damn sure in this moment I can’t give in to shoving my dick where it belongs. This woman before me isn’t a mere fuck; she’s my woman. Getting off isn’t a priority, but ironing out feelings, disagreements, and misunderstandings are. And then we’ll get to the hot loving part.

Regretfully, I swallow down my lust and try to get my body under control as I soften my voice and tell her, “I’ll give you the access when you get behind your laptop again. We can go over what you found, if you still want to work with me on this. If not, I’ll ask for one of the brothers to assist you, okay?”

Her cheeks are flushed when she jolts upright and turns to face me.

“Okay,” she mutters and grabs her jeans off the floor to throw them into the hamper.

She grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head to let it fall into the hamper as well.

Glaring she says, somewhat agitated, “Do you mind? I’d like to take a shower.”

“I don’t mind at all.” A smirk slides on my face as I lean against the wall.

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