Possess: An Alpha Anthology Read online

  “I took care of her!” Alexis grabbed a pair of jean shorts from the floor. She wrenched them over her legs. “You come waltzing in the house, take one glance around, and think you know everything that happened while you were gone. Well, guess what, Gold? You don’t know shit.”

  “I know you didn’t pay the water bill. I know you didn’t do laundry. I know you shot up like a fucking junkie instead of taking care of your kid.”

  “You have no idea the pressure I’m under!”

  “Yeah.” I snorted. The bottle was empty. Silver needed more, but I had nothing else. Maybe she’d sleep instead. “It’s so stressful to buy some diapers and make sure the kid doesn’t starve. God forbid you take twenty minutes to run up the road and pay a water bill.”

  “Why don’t you pay the water bill?”

  “With what money? I gave you two hundred for it. I gave you one hundred for groceries. Where did it all go?”

  “This is bullshit, Gold. You’re supposed to provide for your daughter.”

  Yeah. For my daughter. Not for some whore’s drug habit.

  The anger seized my throat and pierced my brain. Slamming my head against the wall was more productive than dealing with Alexis’s drug-hazed shit. I took the kid to her room. The crib was a mess. I’d need to hose the damn thing down. I stuffed the baby in her car-seat carrier instead. At least then I could move her to the living room, out of the smell and dark.

  And Silver fucking smiled, just grateful to be warm and fed and clean.

  Jesus, the very basic of human needs, and the kid was happy. It didn’t take much. Silver giggled and babbled and loved tickles. I wasn’t always around to give them.

  And now I didn’t trust Alexis to do it either.

  I set Silver on the couch. Big fucking mistake.

  The carrier rested next to a scorched mark the size of a dinner plate. Alexis’s cigs and ashtray piled full on the end table.

  That was it.

  “Alexis!” I saw red and hoped it was an aneurysm. “Jesus fuck, did you set fire to the couch?”

  Alexis padded into the kitchen. She ignored the dirty dishes and bills, moldy bread on the counter and water from where Silver dripped.

  “Accident.” Alexis mumbled into the fridge, grabbing a beer. “Fell asleep.”

  Jesus. I just earned all my money doing a run for the fucking things, and now a cig would be what burned the house down. Alexis nearly caused a fire. Nearly torched the living room.

  My chest squeezed so hard I thought I inhaled the hypothetical flames. Deserved them too.

  Silver might have been trapped in it. She might have…

  I reached to pull my baby from the carrier, just to hold the squirmy little kid, just to have her close so I knew she wasn’t incinerated in a fucking drug-addled inferno.

  My fingers grazed something slimy under the couch.

  I pulled it out.

  Regretted it.

  Alexis walked into the living room with a beer just as I held the used condom up for her inspection.

  “Unless you’re whoring that ass out…” I didn’t want to say the words. “Unless this got you a hundred bucks to turn the water on, ain’t nothing you can say, so don’t even try.”

  Her eyes widened as much as whatever poison in her veins let her react. I didn’t expect her to scream.

  “Like you fucking care!” Alexis’s words rattled the windows. Silver immediately whimpered too. I couldn’t handle both of them flipping out. “Like you fucking care who the fuck I fuck.”

  “Damn right I care!”

  “Oh, do you?”

  “You’re my old lady, Alexis. You got my fucking patch on you.”

  “You think I give a damn what Anathema thinks? So you bent me over and gave me a ride. Christ, I pushed out that fucking baby. There’s your property patch. You fucking love her more than me.”

  That wasn’t hard. I loved the baby more than my goddamned life.

  I didn’t love Alexis. Never did. In fact, I was really starting to hate the cock-sucking whore who let some other man into my house to fuck what was mine while my daughter cried until her lungs gave out in her soiled fucking crib.

  This was the last time. No more chances. No more trying to make it work.

  The kid deserved better. I didn’t, but that didn’t mean I’d let the baby crawl through her own filth and my own bad judgement. Her father was already James “Gold” Mered, a fucking nobody made into a badass by virtue of the cut he wore and the friends he made and the blood he spilled. It’d be a rough enough life for a baby.

  Never gave a damn about it before.

  Then she was born.

  Then she smiled at me.

  Then she giggled and played and squealed at me because I was her everything.

  And she was my everything too.

  “Know what?” I grabbed the kid’s carrier. “Do what you want. Shoot up whatever you want. Fuck whoever you want. I’m done.”

  Alexis frowned. “You’re done?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You aren’t even going to fight for me?”

  No, but I’d fight to the death for the kid. “You’re goddamned toxic. I’m out.”

  “You can’t leave me.”

  I hoisted the carrier. I pocketed the truck keys and kicked away a couple discarded magazines hiding the diaper bag.

  It shouldn’t have thrilled me to find three diapers in the pocket, but it was like goddamned Christmas.

  “You ain’t taking my baby!” Alexis’s voice shrilled. She rushed forward, nearly toppling the carrier from my hand. Silver wailed. “Gold, you motherfucking asshole! That’s my baby!”

  I didn’t want to hit her, but goddamned if I wouldn’t push her ass onto the sofa if she didn’t get away from the kid.

  I drew myself up to my full height. I wasn’t as big as the other guys in Anathema, but they threw down their last twenties on me when I entered a boxing ring. Alexis knew it. She blew me the day I won ten grand for the club while I was still sweaty and bloody in the ring.

  That was the night I guessed I knocked her up.

  The biggest fucking mistake of my life gave me the greatest fucking gift.

  She didn’t back off. I tossed her to the ground. The drugs dizzied her. She screamed as she struggled to rise to her feet. Gave me enough time to get my jacket and cut from the kitchen.

  She came at me from behind.

  I didn’t realize she had the knife until it sliced through my shirt and nearly imbedded in my shoulder.

  The bitch got me good, and my vision whitened with shock. The carrier clattered to the floor. Silver cried, louder, shriller.

  I turned, twisting Alexis’s wrist and almost breaking it. The knife wrenched from her hand. It fell to the ground.

  Just inches from the baby.

  Jesus Christ.

  I grabbed the blade, tossed the mother of my child against the wall, and threatened her with the sharpened edge of the bloody chef’s knife she dared to turn on me.

  “You want to see how this ends?” I hissed. “You really want to try me? I’m taking the baby. I’m leaving your junkie ass. And if I see you anywhere near me or Silver again, so help me God, you’re gonna wish you had burnt to a crisp on the fucking couch.”

  Alexis scowled, but she didn’t move. “You aren’t leaving with my baby.”

  “Watch me.”

  “She needs her mother!”

  “Well you ain’t it.” I tossed the knife away. “You’ve never been a mother. Kid’s better off without you. Fuck your own life over, you aren’t messing with ours. Not anymore.”

  Silver wailed in the carrier. Alexis didn’t move.

  It wasn’t hard leaving the house, the woman I knocked up, or the memories behind.

  I wish I had been man enough to do it sooner.

  Chapter Two

  Gold

  I didn’t bother strapping Silver into the car-seat until I was two blocks away.

  Never sweated two blocks before, not ev
en when I was chased by The Coup betrayers under heavy gunfire. My hands clenched over her in the carrier. Shifting the truck grinded my teeth more than the gearbox.

  I stopped long enough to cover her butt with a diaper and lock her car-seat in place. I made it another block before I had to do something about my arm. Too bad I was fresh out of Elmo Band-Aids.

  My first priority was to take care of the kid. Get her some more formula, maybe even try the rice cereal again. Then find some more diapers. She needed a safe place to sleep too.

  I never would have hesitated to put Silver’s needs ahead of mine, but I had to patch my arm. Alexis got me good, and the trickle of blood puddled in the cuff of my jacket. I brushed Silver’s rosy cheek only to leave a line of crimson.

  Another gut punch. I never wanted my kid covered in blood—her own or her dad’s. I was glad we left. Silver deserved better than sharing a house with Alexis and her drugs, other cocks, and filth.

  I hadn’t recovered from the rage, just tucked it down to where I could murmur a soft nursery rhyme and hope the kid didn’t start screaming again.

  Alexis had another man in my house. In our bed.

  Around my child.

  My fists curled over the steering wheel.

  She was lucky I only had enough money in my pocket to buy more food and diapers. Any spare change should have been dropped on a gun with a bullet aimed for her and the bastard she fucked. But I needed the cash for a hotel. A bed was more important than vengeance.

  The stinging ache in my arm blinded me. I squinted against the pain, shaking the little rattle to distract Silver while she fussed in her seat. The hospital was across the river. Coup territory. That left my options limited.

  I knew where to go. What to do. Desperation didn’t leave me much choice.

  It took fifteen minutes to cross into a better side of town, but the driveway where I parked was no safer than an active battlefield. I tossed the diaper bag over my good shoulder, but I couldn’t drag Silver’s carrier with my bad arm. I sucked it up anyway.

  I knocked. The door opened with a profanity.

  I waited, suffering under his stare, but I didn’t expect to be invited inside. Anathema’s president was an accommodating man, but not around his house. Not around his old lady.

  “Thorne,” I said. “I gotta talk to you.”

  Thorne Radek was either one shot of whiskey or a gun away from declaring war on the world. The son of a bitch managed the Anathema MC with discipline and blood, but I trusted him. He did right by us, especially when we needed the help we’d never ask for ourselves.

  But that didn’t mean you fucked with the warlord at his house. Club business was club business, handled at Pixie, in the back of the bar, or at the warehouse during church. His home was for her.

  Everything from the pretty little garden to the white carpets and doilies over the furniture was for his old lady. A man dressed in dark jeans and a black Anathema shirt, tats inked over his arms and a scar over his cheek didn’t fit the cozy homemaker persona. He put up with it. Had a good reason for it.

  Thorne scowled, brushing black hair from his face. His expression twisted as Silver coo’ed. She woke only to fuss at the prez and make me look just as pathetic as I felt.

  “Gold, what the hell are you doing here?” Thorne kept his voice low, always. Didn’t have the patience to yell, and not a lot of people lasted if they didn’t listen for his instruction. “You know better than to come here after a job.”

  “Jobs done. Everything’s settled, no problems.” I exhaled. “Need to talk to you for…me.”

  Silver wasn’t helping my case. She let out a shriek. Thorne’s neighborhood was classier than mine. A nice little nuclear front that kept the Feds off his ass and his old lady happy. A screaming baby flashed a few porch lights.

  And it summoned Rose Darnell.

  Thorne grimaced as she edged behind him, peeking over his shoulder on tippy-toes. Her mocha eyes were always Disney big, but now they widened, excited.

  “Gold! You brought Silver!”

  And like that, I was in. She didn’t even get my baby’s name out before dissolving into a squeal.

  Thorne grumbled as Rose pushed past him. She didn’t ask, just took the baby inside. By coincidence, my arm still attached to the carrier. She herded me into the living room.

  “Oh my God, she’s getting so big!” Rose knelt before the baby. I didn’t have time to warn her. Silver’s pudgy fists reached, seizing as much of her long curls as she could manage. Rose yelped. “Sophie…Silver…no, baby, don’t. That’s not an—ouch—toy!”

  Thorne edged me away to talk our business, which was fine. Nothing about his house was Anathema or us. The fluffy rugs and white furniture, little cobblestone fireplace and pretty, innocent girlfriend seemed more illusion than real. He kept it up for Rose. She liked it. Said the stability did her good.

  “Sorry to bust in on you,” I said.

  “Rose has finals in the morning.” Thorne clenched his jaw. “Make it quick.”

  That explained the books, papers, and laptop scattered across the living room. Didn’t explain why she lived there though. The club never question Rose loving the man who murdered her brother. Then again, we knew better than to assume Brew was actually dead. More shit went on with the Darnells than Brew, Rose, or their brother, Keep, ever let on, and that was fine. Anathema fed on chaos, and they caused most of it.

  “Two favors,” I said. “Then I’m gone.”

  Thorne glanced at the kid. “Brought the baby?”

  “Had an issue with my old lady.”

  “What kind of issue?”

  “Take your fucking pick. Drugs. Tried to burn the house down. Fucking cheated on me.”

  “Christ.”

  I exhaled. “Kid’s not safe with her.”

  “I told you that when she was born.”

  “Yeah, well, what the hell choice did I have? I didn’t know shit about babies except that a kid needed a mother and father.”

  Thorne tensed. The ink on his arms almost bled through his shirt—new tats. Roses, etched between the tribal stripes over his biceps.

  “What can I do?” He asked.

  “Need someone to watch the baby for a few hours. Can I leave her here?”

  Rose answered before Thorne. “Absolutely, Gold.”

  Thorne never had a prayer. He pointed to her. “Keep studying.”

  He flicked on the kitchen light, but he pushed me toward the pantry where we wouldn’t be heard. It didn’t matter. Silver fussed when I left her sight. Rose grabbed the guitar she propped up on the couch. Even a baby knew she sang like an angel, and Silver quieted instantly. Kid loved music. She’d be out before the end of the song.

  Thorne didn’t wait for me to speak. I hated that son of a bitch almost as much as I loved him. Neither of us wanted me to beg.

  “How much money you need?” He already reached for his pocket.

  I stopped him. “Don’t need money. Need a job.”

  “Gold—”

  “I don’t do handouts,” I said. “I’m the goddamned treasurer of Anathema. The club can’t afford any charity now, and I wouldn’t take it.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Yeah, and when we don’t have enough cash for guns? Ammo?” I pointed to the living room, where the two most important things in both our lives giggled over a guitar. “I’m not putting anyone in danger. Just asking for a lead.” I shrugged. “Well…permission.”

  “Permission for what?”

  “Got a beat on something hot. The Coup is moving stolen electronics. TVs, laptops, tablets. Good, high quality shit.”

  “And?”

  “I know their drop-off point.”

  Thorne swore. “No. If you got a kid to feed, we’ll get you food. If you have a vendetta to settle, forget it. Ain’t no way.”

  “It’s not a vendetta. It’s a score.”

  “It’s the beginning of a street war.”

  “I’ve been scouting across
the river. I found where and when The Coup and their target meet. We get one truck of this stuff, and we clear five grand, easy. All I ask is for a good cut. Finder’s fee.”

  “It ain’t worth it.” Thorne’s eyebrow arched. Wasn’t a good sign. “I got ten percent of the cig job you just did. It’s yours.”

  “I’m not taking your money.”

  “You damn well are. Don’t fucking argue. You aren’t pissing on The Coup and stealing their haul. It took us months after killing Exorcist to calm their asses down. Rose finally healed from the kidnapping, that cast is off her wrist. I’m not risking another gun at her or my head. That goes for all my brothers.”

  “I’m not talking about killing their president.” Only Thorne had that privilege when he ended Exorcist like a dog in the street. Never did fish his body out of the river. “I’m just taking one truck.”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “None of this shit is safe, Thorne. I got a kid to feed.”

  “Then stop being a hardass and do what’s right by that baby. Take my ten percent from the haul.”

  “And then what? Let The Coup get richer? Think that will keep us safe? Or Rose?”

  He frowned. The guitar strummed from the living room. His Achilles heel wasn’t on his body. She crammed for finals, curled on the couch in sweats and a cute sweater.

  I never thought he’d settle down, not when the only thing the used to drive him was revenge and vengeance. I had a girl like that once. Thorne was smart enough to hold onto Rose. I was just lucky I had Silver.

  “We’ll talk about it at church,” Thorne said. “Get the details. We’ll put it to a vote tomorrow.”

  “That’s all I’m asking.”

  I turned to the living room. He grabbed my shoulder. Squeezed. He knew exactly where to jam his thumb. I didn’t flinch.

  “We’ll watch the kid for the night.” It was a favor, but even his generosity sounded like a threat. “But if you bring the cops here…or if Rose gets it in her head she wants a fucking baby before she’s done with college? We’ll have problems, you and me.”

  “You got nothin’ to fear, man.”

  “Good.”

  We returned to the living room. Rose’s cutesy guitar song shifted from the Itsy-Bitsy Spider to Bon Jovi and back again.