Pierce's Claim Read online

  They were supposed to meet tonight at his place, and she didn’t want him worrying if she didn’t call. But she was going to have to cancel, because she couldn’t do this after leaving the strip club, couldn’t see him and Violet, act like she was fine, when she wasn’t, especially not right now.

  Her dad worried about her a lot, and although she knew fathers worried about their children, even grown ones, her dad was a breed all his own. A biker, a man that had served time for nearly murdering another man, and an all-around badass, Cain Trainer was the epitome of what a bad boy really was. And he was her father, the man she loved more than anything. He might have been locked up for far too many years while she grew up, but he had made sure she was taken care of, made sure she never wanted for anything, even if she knew he would have done anything to be out and taking care of her.

  She stepped out into the dark alley, the lone streetlight illuminating it. She held her phone to her ear and listened to it ring.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Her father’s deep voice came through the line.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said. She pushed opened the door and stepped out into the back alley.

  “You’re already leaving?” he asked, sounding a little surprised. “We aren’t supposed to see you for another hour and a half.”

  Yeah, she was that far away driving wise from him anyway because she worked so far away.

  “Dad, I’m going to have to cancel on you two. I’m exhausted.”

  “Really?” he asked. “We wanted to see you. I wanted to see you, sweetheart.”

  For such a big man he sounded so sweet and gentle with her. It made her smile. “I know, Dad,” she said in a soft voice. There were a few straggling girls that came out of the backdoor, causing her to hold her phone tighter and move back a step. When she was alone again she started speaking. “Maybe next weekend I can come over and have dinner with you guys.”

  “You sure everything’s okay?” her father asked, and there was a shuffling from the other end.

  She could imagine him getting up and moving to another room, his worry radiating from him. Even before the attack when she was sixteen her father had been very protective of her. But after the attack, even if he was in prison, he had always been worried about her. It seemed to intensify, and she could see why a parent would worry about their children, especially after the shit that had gone down.

  “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  “I’m fine and safe, and will be leaving the restaurant with my friend soon.” She lied, hating the fact she had to do so, but telling her father she stripped, even if it was a sort of screwed up therapy for her, was not going to make him happy. He’d freak, probably come down here and start beating guys up for the fact they watched his “little girl” take her clothes off.

  “Okay, but text me when you get home so I’m not worrying.”

  She smiled at that. “I just saw you called a few times and wanted to make sure you were okay.” She turned around, stepped closer to the light that was in the corner of the alley, adding this muted, almost dirty glow to the filth around her, and closed her eyes. She listened to her dad worry a bit more, felt even worse that she was lying to him, having this conversation while she’d just got done shaking every part of her body for a few dirty old men and college guys, and told herself to put on the façade of the good schoolteacher.

  Once they said their goodbyes she shoved her phone in her pocket, stood there for a moment, and just stared at the brick wall. She was going to have to face the music one of these days, she knew that, knew her father would find out about her sooner or later. Hell, when she saw that Brothers MC member in the club a few weeks ago she’d thought for sure she’d be having her father break down her door and demanding what in the hell she was thinking. Clearly he hadn’t recognized her, though.

  With one more inhalation, she breathed out slowly and started walking toward her car. She always felt so dirty after leaving the club, after showing her body, but in that sick and demented way that stripping helped her, she also knew she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t.

  ****

  Pierce’s heart was racing, his palms were sweaty, and everything in him was on alert as he continued to stare at Lil. She started walking away from them and toward her car, and although he wanted to go talk to her, he was cautious. He didn’t want to make this a big scene with her, even though it was.

  She was stripping.

  She was Cain’s daughter.

  But Pierce still had to have her.

  But even though he knew Lil was Fallina, recognized her now that the shadows, blinding lights, and masks weren’t concealing her face, he still had a hard time accepting all of this.

  “You know who that is?” Rook said in a harsh voice.

  “Yeah, man,” Pierce said as he faced Rook, his mind a jumbled mess, but his body still aching for her. “Are you sure, because I’m having a pretty hard time wrapping my head around this?”

  Rook looked at Pierce like he was a damn moron. “Pierce, man,” Rook said, worry and shock now covering his face. “That’s Cain’s daughter, Fallina, no fucking doubts about it.”

  Yeah, he knew as much, but hearing Rook say it had him freezing further, everything inside of him stopping as those words of confirmation played over and over again in his head.

  He’d only met her once at a barbeque the club had held, and aside from checking out her body he hadn’t ever seen her again.

  “Are you sure that’s the same woman stripping at the club?” Rook asked, probably trying to wrap his head around this shit, too.

  Yeah, it’s her. It’s Cain’s daughter.

  Pierce nodded. “Yeah, pretty fucking sure as I came all the way out here to talk to her. Are you sure that’s Fallina?”

  Stop acting like the moron Rook thinks you are. It’s fucking her.

  “Yeah, man, positive. I’ve seen Cain’s daughter enough over the years because of the shit that had gone down with Cain going to prison and the club watching over her.” Rook shook his head. “That’s fucked, man. What’s she doing stripping, let alone in this dump?”

  Pierce didn’t know, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to ask Cain why his little girl that he was madly protective of, who also happened to be a schoolteacher, was showing her tits and ass to a bunch of assholes.

  “It sure as hell is fucked up.” He turned and went back to his SUV, not sure what in the hell he was going to do now. She may be Cain’s daughter, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her like a damn madman. If he went after her without speaking to Cain about it all Cain would slit his throat, bathe in his blood, and not think twice just because he was a Patch.

  Yeah, he was truly fucked, because even though that was Cain’s daughter, Pierce had no intention of walking away.

  But he stopped as he had his hand on the door handle of the driver’s side, turned and looked at her again. She was fumbling with her keys, and even from the distance he saw her hands shake.

  “What are you doing?” Rook asked, already straddling his Harley. They’d driven separately so Rook could do whatever the hell he wanted afterward, most likely finding some bitch to fuck. He put on his helmet, and then looked between Pierce and Fallina. “Dude, just walk the fuck away from all of that. Ain’t no woman worth getting the shit kicked out of you by a Brother because you did shit behind his back.”

  Pierce felt his hackles rise at that statement. “Lucien might have to argue with you on that.”

  Rook shrugged, revved his engine, and tipped his chin in a farewell. He then tore out of the parking lot. Pierce looked at Fallina again, saw she was staring at them now, probably surprised at the sound of the motorcycle so close. He could see how tense she was, and he figured he might as well do this shit now, because waiting wasn’t going to solve anything.

  He clenched his fingers around the keys he’d previously fished out of his pocket, and moved over to her. She stood by her car, her eyes wide, her body straight, tense. The closer he moved to her the more
he saw how her nerves were taking over. Yeah, she knew who he was, maybe even if he wasn’t wearing his cut.

  Pierce stood in front of her, just a few feet separating them, and the air suddenly thick, hot, uncomfortable. Now that he was in front of her he didn’t know what to say.

  “You’re here again,” she said in a soft voice, and then cleared her throat.

  So she had known it was him when he’d spoken to her those few weeks back. He hadn’t thought about it then, but now that he pictured that night, asking her to go home with him, the tension in her body, then followed by the anger, it made sense. “You knew I was at the club,” he asked without phrasing it like a question.

  “I knew. I saw you, recognized your cut, and thought you might have recognized me at first, too.” She smoothed her hands down her jacket, and he tried to focus on her face, not on her body.

  But all he could see was her on stage, touching herself, her eyes closed, her thoughts clearly distant.

  “I thought you’d tell my dad.”

  They were silent for a moment, and Pierce didn’t know what to say. But he cleared his throat, lifted his hand to scratch his chin, and knew that this could be going a lot worse than it was. “I actually didn’t know it was you until right now.”

  “You came here to watch me once again?” she asked, a brow lifting. She was gorgeous, with her dark hair in a bun, a contrast to her skin color. She was curvy, with soft, creamy flesh, and a body he wanted to pull close and never let go. Pierce had it bad for her, had it bad since he first saw her, and he knew it wasn’t going to just go away.

  “Are you going to tell him now?” she asked softly.

  “What the hell do you think?” he said and smirked, trying to sound soft for her benefit. The fact was, no way in hell was he going to tell Cain. “Telling your old man that I saw you naked would have my bones broken, Lil, or is it Fallina?” he asked, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at her. She didn’t move, didn’t speak … hell, he didn’t even think she breathed.

  “I don’t want to talk about Lil or this place with you. I don’t want to talk about anything with you right now.” She swallowed, and he watched her throat work. “I actually just want to get home.” She looked down, and the sight of her hair, of the little strands leaving her bun, had him needing to brush them away. But he clenched his hand into a tight fist, and when she looked up he felt this uncomfortable sensation fill him. She lifted her head and stared at him like she was defeated, like this sadness consumed her. But it was only in her eyes. Pierce could see that much, could see the honest truth of her desperation reflected back.

  “I’m not going to tell Cain, so I don’t want you worrying about that.” She smiled, and although it was genuine, he could also see the sadness in her face still. “But…” he let that hang in the air for a moment, feeling like a bastard for what he was about to say to her. “I want to take you out.”

  She was silent for a moment, and then breathed out. “Are you blackmailing me?” She didn’t sound angry.

  “No. I’m not going to tell Cain regardless, but I want to take you out. I want to take you somewhere that isn’t all about tits and ass.”

  It took her a moment to answer. “You’re serious?”

  “I really fucking am.” Maybe he should curb his cursing, but hell, she was stripping, had Cain for a father, and he was sure she’d heard a lot worse.

  “Why?” Again, she sounded genuine when she asked that question.

  “Are you kidding me? Have you not seen you?” God, he sounded like some kind of pubescent teenager, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re gorgeous, Fallina, and any guy with half a brain would want to take you out.”

  She smiled, but again it was sad. “You’re kind of sweet in a badass biker way.”

  That had him smiling. “I’ve been called a lot of things, but sweet isn’t one of them.”

  Fallina laughed softly. Another moment of silence passed. “I don’t think it’ll really be a good idea if we saw each other in any way.” She smoothed her hands on her thighs again, as if nervous. “I don’t think even talking to each other is a good idea.”

  “I agree, but even if talking to you will probably get a few of my ribs broke, and have me bleeding out of at least one of my orifices, I still want to take you out.” Another moment of silence passed. “What’s the worst that can happen? Well, aside from your dad going all Hulk on me.”

  “Don’t think he wouldn’t be upset with me too, especially…” She pointed to the strip club. “You know, all of this.”

  “Baby, I am pretty sure Cain being pissed with me is a little different than him being upset at you,” he said, smiling after that to let her know he was being serious, but also trying to lighten the mood.

  Another stray hair fell from her bun, and the wind moved it around her face. God, he really wanted to touch her, to just push that hair away, and see if her skin was as soft as it looked. At first he might have just had this infatuation with her, wanting her pussy to relieve his ache, but every time he saw her on that stage, watched her, grew transfixed, he knew it wasn’t just about screwing her.

  Yeah, it was that, too, because his cock was hard right now for her and all they were doing was talking. But it was more than that. Even knowing she was Cain’s daughter didn’t stop his need for Fallina. Damn, he even thought it made him want her more because she was forbidden or some shit.

  And yeah, she was totally fucking forbidden, especially going behind a Brother’s back.

  “Okay,” Fallina said softly, almost too soft for him to even hear.

  That had surprise filling him. “Yeah?” God, he felt like an asshole teenager right now getting all giddy around her, but having her agree to see him outside of the strip club was a big deal to him. He’d wanted her for a long time it seemed, and if she knew that she’d probably see him as a fucked-up creep. Maybe he was. Maybe he was her stalker, was obsessed with her, had come to see her dance naked because he couldn’t get enough.

  He didn’t think he’d get enough of her, not even if she let him between her sweet thighs. Shit, her sweet as fuck thighs, and that hot, tight area between them. Yeah, Pierce had it bad, and he just hoped that if and when Cain found out he wouldn’t put a bullet through his head.

  Chapter Three

  “I swear, man, you’re a damn beast,” Harley said almost like he was speaking to himself. He was the resident MC tattoo artist who hung around the Brothers of Menace club and gave all the guys ink. The sound of his gun buzzed, and the pain Pierce felt as the needle went into his flesh was a kind of therapy.

  He closed his eyes, breathed in and out evenly, and just thought about what in the hell he was going to do about Fallina. He thought about speaking to her that night after she’d gotten off work stripping, remembered the stench of the garage just a few feet from them, at the shock on her face. Everything was in startling clarity in his mind, and all he could think about was how he was going to handle all of this.

  One thing was for sure, Cain’s daughter or not, Pierce wasn’t going to just back away from her.

  “Another one?” The sound of Rook’s deep voice had Pierce opening his eyes. The other man was leaned against the open doorway, his arms crossed, his tattooed flesh bunching as his muscles contracted. Out of all the Brothers Rook was hardcore when it came to fucking. Pierce had seen enough during the parties they threw to know that Rook liked a special kind of sex. Special meaning he liked to leave marks on the woman, liked to inflict them until bruises formed.

  Pierce had seen it in action when he’d accidentally, drunkenly, walked in on Rook bringing his belt down across one of the club whore’s asses. He hadn’t seen which pussy had been all tied up to the Brother’s bed, but her ass had been shades of black and blue, her hands restrained above her head to the slates of the headboard, and her moans of ecstasy and pain ringing in Pierce’s ears.

  One thing had been clear … that woman liked being beat.

  Rook had just looked over, never stoppin
g on bringing his belt on the woman’s ass and thighs, and smirked like the sadistic bastard he was.

  That had been a few weeks ago, but ever since then Pierce couldn’t not think about it when he looked at Rook.

  “Yeah, another one, man. What’s the point of skin if you can’t tat the fuck out of it?”

  Rook smirked after Pierce spoke. “True, but I think you’re addicted to the needle.”

  Pierce grinned. “Maybe, Brother.” It was true. He liked getting inked up, liked having the needle dig into his skin, making his art permanent.

  “You getting something pierced, too?” Rook asked. “Maybe your asshole or your balls?” Rook chuckled.

  “Dude, my asshole is off limits, but my balls have been pierced a long time ago. I could get my dick pierced in a different spot, though,” Pierce said and really thought about it.

  Rook winced and cupped his dick through his jeans. “Pierce, you’re one sick motherfucker.” He grinned.

  Pierce flipped him off, not about to mention the fact he wasn’t the one that liked bruising up the pussy around here. But hey, whatever floated his boat. It wasn’t like Pierce hadn’t given his fair share of spankings and tying women up, but the shit that Rook was into was hardcore.

  “I came in to tell you Lucien called a meeting, but looks like you’ll be a while.”

  “Nah, Harley is finishing up.”

  Rook nodded. “Meeting is in an hour. We’re waiting for Tuck and Ruin to come back. We gotta talk about the shit with M.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Rook turned and left, and Pierce closed his eyes again, letting the feeling of the needle in his neck, the pain, the release he got when he was getting a tattoo, wash through him.

  Pierce wasn’t even his real name, but a nickname the club had given him when he’d become a prospect. But it wasn’t just a random name they’d given him, but one that matched him, because he had a body full of piercings. His nipples had barbells through them, and even his cock had a hoop through the tip. But he hadn’t stopped there. His shaft had a few barbells lining the underside, and even his balls were pierced. It wasn’t just a sex thing, although he’d be lying if saying it didn’t feel incredible to both him and the woman he fucked, but also something that made him feel good about himself.