Melancholy

  When you tell me, oh, oh, it makes it all so real. Show me, baby, don’t tell me, it’s time to let me feel.

  Mack’s voice fills my ears as we dance, our bodies pressed against each other, our breaths nothing more than warm puffs against the other’s lips. Maddox closes his eyes, his fingers flexing on my hip as he pulls me closer. I reach down, taking hold of his shirt. He steps back for a second, letting me pull it over his head and toss it to the side.

  Make me understand, oh baby baby, show yourself to me. Show me what’s real.

  I lose my pants in a matter of seconds, and soon I’m naked in Maddox’s arms as he backs me towards his bike. He lifts me, placing my bottom on the warmed leather seat that only minutes ago he was on. I reach my hand out, pressing it against the candy-apple red tank, feeling the warmth there, too.

  Maddox reaches to his jeans, popping the top button as he steps between my legs. He frees his cock, and his gaze drops to my exposed pussy and he growls, low and throaty. Then he takes hold of my leg and wraps it around his hip at the same time as he steps into me, his cock pressing against my heated, waiting flesh.

  There are times, oh there are times, when your love feels like a dynamite.

  I close my eyes, letting my head fall back as Maddox pushes into me, slowly, filling me with painful bliss. My sex burns as it stretches around him, still living in sheer remembrance of the last time he was there. Slowly, inch by inch, he slides in until our bodies are fully connected. My heart pounds at the intensity of this moment.

  Dynamite. Dynamite. Baby, you’re a dynamite.

  His hips slide back, painfully pulling, before he thrusts back in. Our foreheads press together, and his hand supports my hip as he begins to move, slow, yet so deep. My whimpers blend with the sound of Mack’s singing, and we make a melody all of our own, even if the singer doesn’t know it. Maddox doesn’t kiss me, but I can see how his jaw flexes with pleasure like this.

  “Maddox,” I whimper. “More.”

  He hisses, low and husky, and then he begins flexing his hips, driving deeper and deeper until I cry out his name and clutch his shoulders with pleasure. God, he feels so good, so amazing. I’ll never get enough of him, never get enough of drowning in everything that he is. I close my eyes, my mouth open on a moan, and I arch my hips up to meet his thrusts.

  His bike holds us as he becomes more frenzied, fucking me without a word, using his body to show me what he’s too afraid to tell me. I can feel it in him right now, I can feel how much I matter, how much he’s let me into his heart. Maddox loves me, I have no doubt of that right now, in this moment.

  “Tell me,” I cry out. “Tell me what you’re too scared to say.”

  “No,” he grunts, sharing the first word he's said since he’s been home.

  I want to protest, but the pleasure is too strong. Maddox fucks me harder, deeper, until I’m forced to reach out and hold onto the bike. I stare down as he steps back, holding my hips up and watching as his cock slides in and out of my heat. My cheeks flush at the sight of his hard, thick, wet length driving in and out of me. God, that’s hot.

  My orgasm creeps up upon me, shocking me with its intensity. I don’t move my eyes from his cock as I come, trembles of pleasure shooting through my body. He reaches down, running his finger over the glistening base of his cock, then he lifts it and presses it to my mouth, his eyes intense.

  I open my mouth, letting him slide his finger into my waiting lips. The taste of us combined is such a turn on, my nipples form hard peaks and my sex clenches in response. Maddox’s eyes drop closed, and his jaw becomes a tight ball of muscle as he fucks harder and harder, until his lips part in a gasp and I feel him explode inside me.

  God, that’s a truly beautiful sight. His straining neck, his tight jaw, his flexing muscles . . . like that . . . he looks like heaven. He pants out my name, slowing his thrusts. When he finally looks down at me, his eyes are blazing with an intensity I’ve never seen coming from him. I reach up, cupping his dirty face, and we just sit like that, staring at one another until he finally pulls back.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, watching as he jerks his jeans up and hands me my clothes.

  I take them, getting dressed quickly. Maddox isn’t looking at me; he’s just staring at his boots. Something is wrong. The only word he shared with me during our love making was “no”. I bite my lip, contemplating my next move, then I do something stupid . . . I ask him what I’ve been so desperate to know.

  “Do you love me, Maddox?”

  His entire body jerks and he turns, staring at me in . . . God, if I didn’t know better, I’d say it was horror. His face is scrunched, his lips curling and his eyes narrowed. Then he grates out a hoarse, “You deserve someone better than me to love you.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” I say in a small voice.

  He sighs. “Not right now, Santana. Please.”

  God.

  Rejection hurts.

  I nod, turning and walking towards the stairs. “No problem.”

  “Tan—”

  I don’t hear whatever else he says, I’m already halfway up the stairs. He can have it his way, I’m not going to push him right now. Obviously something is going down, because there’s a darkness eating away at him, and he doesn’t need me making that worse.

  I just hope it won’t ruin what we’re fighting so hard to keep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  2010 – Santana

  I twirl in my blue dress, smiling at the reflection in the mirror. One of the club’s old ladies got it for me. I’m going on my first date tonight, with a guy I met while working at the local café. He’s sweet, kind and cute. I reach up, tucking a strand of dark hair behind my ear. It’s looking so much healthier now—in fact, I look healthier now.

  I’ve been with Maddox and the Jokers’ for just under two years now. It’s been a hard journey. First, I had to grieve my sister’s death, and that took a long time. There are still days I miss her so much it burns. Coming down from the drugs was another big challenge, but as time has gone on, things have gotten easier.

  I got a job two months ago, deciding it was time to get my life together. I’ve been sitting around the clubhouse for too long now, watching and living in their dark world. I need to start creating a life of my own, and getting a job was the best way to do that. Then I met Thomas and now, for the first time since Pippi’s death, I feel like things are looking up.

  “How does it fit?”

  I turn and smile at Penny. She’s not an old lady, but she’s close with Krypt, another one of the club members, and she and I get along quite well.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Do you think it looks okay?”

  She smiles, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness. “It looks gorgeous. He’ll never know what hit him.”

  “Santana!”

  The sound of Maddox’s booming voice fills my room, and I roll my eyes. Did I mention Maddox is controlling? Well, he is. He’s always been protective, since the moment he picked me up off those streets, but he’s also a biker . . . which combined makes things very . . . painful.

  “Up here,” I call.

  “Why the fuck is there a fuckin’ boy at my door?”

  Shit.

  I quickly put the clip into my hair, and rush out of the room and down the stairs. Maddox is standing at the bottom of those stairs, his big arms crossed over his chest. Maddox is an impressive man. There are many times I’ve had to stop myself from staring at his beauty and rugged good looks. He’s tall, broad, and has a face that belongs on the cover of . . . Biker Weekly . . . only the good one.

  He’s stunning.

  Blue eyes travel down over my dress, and then flick back up to mine. His jaw tightens and he turns to stare at Thomas, who is standing at the open door with his mouth slightly agape. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell him I live with a biker. A big, pissed off biker. Maddox’s leather jacket squeaks as he turns back to me and walks over, stepping up so we’re face to face.

  “No.?
??

  I cross my arms. “Don’t, Maddox. I live here, but you’re not my father.”

  “Not fuckin’ old enough to be your fuckin’ father, so stop insulting me. What I am, though, is someone who cares about you. You’ve lived through a lot of shit, and that fucker looks dodgy.”

  I snort, tilting my head to the side. “Unless he was wearing leather, riding a bike and swearing, you’d think he looked dodgy.”

  He grins, and I shake my head with a sigh.

  “I met him at work. We’re going out for lunch.”

  “No, you ain’t.”

  “Oh yes, I am.”

  I try to step past him, but his hand lashes out, taking hold of the railing and stopping me.

  “Maddox,” I protest. “Why the hell won’t you let me have a life?”

  “You got a job?”

  “Yes!”

  “Friends?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then you’ve got a life. That—” He jerks his finger towards Thomas. “—is a cock wanting in you . . . not a life.”

  “Oh my God,” I cry, throwing my hands up. “Why do you have to be so vulgar?”

  Maddox turns to Thomas. “How old are you, boy?”

  “Nineteen, ah, sir.”

  He turns back to me. “Nineteen year old boys think about nothin’ more than their cocks and their stomachs.”

  “Maybe they do, but I don’t think about those things. Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”

  He tilts his head to the side, studying me. “I know you can.”

  “Then start showing it. We’re going to lunch, Maddox. We’re not going to some back road to fuck.”

  He flinches, and his eyes harden. “Don’t fuckin’ say shit like that.”

  I sigh and push at his chest. “Move, I’m going out. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

  “Fine, but Krypt is goin’ to send a boy to trail you.”

  “He is not!” I cry, stepping past him when he moves.

  “Keep it in your pants, boy,” Maddox barks at Thomas as I reach the door. “I have many awful things I can do with it if you don’t.”

  “Yes, sir,” Thomas splutters.

  Oh God.

  Who said bikers were cool?

  ~*~*~*~*

  2014 Santana

  The club is pounding at full force when I step through the front doors. Waves and shouts are thrown in my direction as I pass the drunken bikers, club whores and old ladies all milling about. I head right for Maddox’s office, needing to see him. After last night, I just want to make sure everything is okay with us.

  I knock on the door before entering, but no one answers. Hesitantly, I open the door. He’s not in here, which either means he’s not at the club, or he’s somewhere else...possibly down at the sheds. “Ain’t there, princess.”

  I turn and see Tyke wheeling down the hall. I smile at him. “No problems, has he been gone for long?”

  “Nah, just an hour.”

  “Right, I’ll wait for him in here, then.”

  He flashes me a smile before disappearing down the hall and back into the chaos. I step into Maddox’s office and close the door behind me, then I sit down at his desk, putting my feet up on it and leaning back in his chair. I do this for a few minutes, then I resort to swinging in circles before sighing and stopping.

  There’s nothing on his desk, really, aside from a few papers and pens. He doesn’t have a computer or anything special like that. I decide I’ll organize it for him; it’ll give me something to do. Maybe I’ll even spread myself out on it for when he returns. I gather all the papers into a file, and stack them, sorting them from A to Z.

  I glance around, wondering where he keeps them, when I notice a filing cabinet. It would be there, surely. I get up and walk over, pulling the drawers, but they’re locked. Hmmmm. I go in search for a key, finding one in the safe sitting on a shelf. It’s cracked open slightly, which is strange. He must have grabbed something out of it and hurried off, not locking it correctly. From the looks of it, there’s nothing special in there anyway.

  I pull out the key and rush back over and test it in the filing cabinet, and sure enough, it unlocks it. I pull it open, glancing at the unlabeled dividers. Great, he doesn’t put anything away properly. Fine, I’ll do it myself. I pull the small stack of papers out and walk back over to the desk, dropping them.

  I begin to sort. It’s mostly invoices, things like that. I come across a yellow folder at the bottom, labeled Santana. Curious, I flip it open. It’s a few police records in regards to that horrible night, as well as some prescriptions. Things like that. I keep flicking through until I come across my sister’s name. It’s only by pure luck that I see it, but it stops me, and I pull out the bundle of papers attached to it.

  God, I wonder if it’s her death records.

  I flick through. There’s strange information about illegal farms and slaves, as well as some with contact names and dates. Kennedy’s name pops up and I find a newspaper report on his arrest, saying he was taken in for drug possession. A pang radiates through my chest at the thought that Kennedy is now in prison.

  I want to hate him and feel as though he deserves that, but I just can’t. He was good to me—maybe to others he was a monster, but he gave me far more than the streets ever could. Yes, my addictions came from him, but I had a roof over my sister’s head and someone who cared. We couldn’t be too picky when negativity surrounded us, could we?

  I flick past the article and stare down at some printed emails. They’re from about two years ago, sent from Maddox’s email address. I am about to flick past them when I catch the topic. It’s my sister’s full name and date of birth. Unable to put them down, I sit back and start reading them. The first, or the one on the top, is an email from Maddox. I read it, and my world changes.

  To: Cane Earnest

  From: Joker’s Wrath MC

  Subject: Information on Pippa Lexus

  Cane,

  I’m contacting you for help with some information. A girl in my care went missing late 2008. From what I’ve been able to gather, she was sold in a drug deal and sent to a farm as a slave. I’ve not been able to find out which farm or to whom she was sold. I’ve been told you have information on these things.

  She went missing on November 12th 2008 at around six p.m. I found her sister, and by the time I went back, she was gone. After intense research, I found out what happened to her. As far as I know she’s still alive, and I need to find her. Any information you have on her would be helpful.

  Maddox.

  I gasp in pure agony, pressing a hand to my throat as I continue to flick through the emails. The man replies with information stating that a girl of that name and birth date was in fact sold overseas only days after, however he had no further information as to where.

  No.

  No.

  I stumble backwards, the papers slipping from my fingers. This has to be a lie. Maybe Maddox was confused. He wasn’t confused, because he told you she was dead. That he found her dead. How could he have possibly confused something like that? It only leaves one, horrible, gut-wrenching truth.

  Maddox lied to me.

  I don’t realize I’m panting and sobbing until I stumble forward and land on my hands and knees because my eyes are so terribly blurred. I gasp and cry out for my sister as I crawl out into the hall, rage and pure heartbreak fighting to win through. I shove to my feet, wailing in agony as I run.

  I crash into a hard, lean chest. Strong hands curl around my shoulders and push me back. Through my blurred vision I see Mack, staring down at me with a confused, worried expression. “Chante, what’s going on?”

  “Is it a lie?” I scream so loudly everyone in the room stops.

  “What? Honey, what’s going on?”

  “My sister, is she fucking dead?”

  He flinches and I can see it, I can see every answer I need in his eyes. I pull my hand back and I slap him so hard pain radiates up my arm. “You all lied to me?” I screa
m so loudly my own ears protest against the invading noise. “You fucking lied to me!”

  “Santana,” he says, carefully. “It’s not what you think. Let me call Maddox and . . .”

  “Go to hell!”

  I run past him, tripping and stumbling a few more times before I get to the door. The pain in my heart can’t be controlled. It feels like someone has shoved a hot poker into my chest and ripped it out, crushing it and stomping on it, before shoving it back in. Pippa. My poor, sweet sister. All along I’ve been living a happy, loving life while she’s been someone’s slave.

  At that very thought I collapse to the floor, screaming, my fingernails going to my cheeks and tearing at the skin there as reality crushes me. She’s been alive all this time, scared and alone, living in pure hell while I’ve been enjoying my lying lover. Strong arms go around me, but I squirm in protest, crying out profanities as my feet kick about.

  “Calm down, Santana, calm,” Mack yells.

  “Let me go, you lying son-of-a-bitch!”

  “You need to hear him out, you need to understand—”

  I jerk forward, forcing him to let me go. I spin around, charging towards him, fists clenched. “Understand?” My voice is a frantic, desperate scream. “Understand? You want me to understand that the man I love lied to me for five years, and that everyone I thought was my fucking family stood by and let it happen? She was alive all this time, and you all let me believe she was dead!”

  “It was for the best. If you’ll calm down enough to let us explain—”

  I don’t listen to anymore; I just turn and run towards the gates. Mack barks a curse, calling on the guys to “stop me”. I’m a fast runner, faster than most of these bikers. I’m out the gate and across the road in the thick forest before they’ve even had the chance to reach the gates.

  I shove through the thick bushes and trees, tears pouring out of my eyes as my heart falls into a thousand more pieces. Not only have I found out the girl I fought so hard for has been alive all this time, but the man I have fallen in love with knew. He knew. Oh God, he knew. A strangled bellow of raw anger rips from my throat.