Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2) Read online

  “Ain’t an obligation, Doc,” he murmured, his dark brown eyes holding Autumn’s. “Not a fuckin’ obligation at all.”

  Tears began to well in her eyes, making the room and the man standing at her side become blurry. She blinked quickly to clear her vision.

  He cleared his throat and finished with, “Let’s let her decide.”

  When she could see him again, his hand was extended towards her.

  “Red... it’s me,” he tipped his head toward his hand and paused, then jerked his chin toward Carly, “or them.”

  She stared at that hand. The hand which belonged to a man who had done nothing but help her and want to protect her, for whatever reason.

  “Red,” he said more firmly, when she didn’t answer right away. “Me... Or them.”

  She reached out and grabbed his tightly, saying in a broken whisper, “You.”

  A look of relief flashed across his face. Quickly there, then gone. If she blinked, she would’ve missed it.

  But she didn’t miss the corners of his lips curl up just barely as he nodded and gave her fingers a squeeze.

  Fuck, he hated the smell. Horses, hay, shit... All of it. But that wasn’t why he was in the barn. It never was.

  The reason was bent over the straw bales. The pale flesh becoming striped with each rise and fall of his arm.

  And each strike, each slap of the narrow leather against her skin, filled his ears along with her encouraging words. She wanted him to keep doing it. Begged him to do it harder.

  Make it hurt.

  He had no problem giving her what she wanted.

  Because he wanted it, too.

  Not just wanted it, needed it.

  It was sick.

  Sick.

  Goddamn sick.

  Why the fuck did he need this?

  Why the fuck couldn’t he control his rage like a normal person?

  Why was this the only way?

  This needed to stop.

  He needed to stop coming here.

  He needed to find another way.

  He just didn’t know how.

  When Rebecca’s hands came around to grab her own ass, he knew she was done. That was the sign she’d had enough.

  She spread her cheeks and whispered, “Now.”

  His dick was so fucking hard, her ass so fucking inviting. He’d missed how tight it was. How responsive she was.

  What a horny slut she was, too.

  He had ripped off her Kapp earlier and her long blonde hair fell over her back, her shoulders and her face, so he grabbed a fistful and yanked her head back until her neck couldn’t bend any farther.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “Now.”

  He shoved his open jeans down just enough to free his dick, giving it a one-handed stroke, then another.

  His fingers tightening painfully on her hair made her gasp. Opened that pretty little mouth that had sucked him earlier, never gagging once while he face-fucked her. Because sluts like that could take it.

  They liked it hard. Rough. The harder, the rougher, the better.

  She couldn’t get enough of his belt, enough of his dick.

  She couldn’t resist texting him for more.

  She’d missed it.

  She’d begged him to come.

  She said she’d been bad.

  She said she deserved the punishment her daddy would give her. And promised to take it like a good girl.

  But he wasn’t taking her ass this time.

  No, he was taking what she refused to give him. What she saved for someone else.

  He was taking that for himself.

  Because her future husband deserved to know what a dirty little slut he was marrying. What a whore the mother of his future children was.

  That man needed to know the truth.

  Rebecca would never admit it to him on her own. So, Sig needed to find a way to give him that message.

  With a tight grip still on her hair, he ordered, “Spread those cheeks wider.”

  She did, her fingers digging into her own red and swollen flesh as she pulled them apart, showing him how shiny and pink her center was in that dark blonde bush.

  He didn’t dig into his front pocket this time. Fuck no. Instead, he moved forward and slid the tip of his dick through her slickness and then up to her tight anus.

  He slid it over that hole, the one he’d used hard many times, and she relaxed it in preparation. “Now,” she begged, “please.”

  “Bad girls don’t get what they want,” he growled, then shoved forward and down, plunging into her pussy instead.

  And as he drove in and out, listening to her little mews, her driving her hips back with each thrust, he glanced down at her striped cheeks, watching them bounce.

  Fuck yeah.

  Fuck...

  Oh fuck...

  He’d missed this.

  He gripped her hip with one hand and her hair with the other to keep her where he wanted her, as he rammed inside her as hard as he could, making that red ass ripple.

  It didn’t take long for his balls to pull up and get tight. For that pressure to build.

  She was so fucking hot and wet.

  He gritted his teeth and thrusted forward, burying himself deep as his load shot from him, filling her.

  She ground against him, begging to come. But this was punishment for her being a naughty little slut and not a reward.

  After a second of letting his breathing and heart rate slow, he pulled out and stared at his dick.

  He wasn’t wearing a wrap and he’d come deep inside her.

  He never did that.

  He never fucking did that. Ever.

  “Why’d you do that?” Rebecca suddenly shrieked at him. “Now I’m going to get pregnant!”

  “There’s a pill for that,” he said in a panic. She needed to take it right fucking now.

  “Too late!” Rebecca screamed, her face twisted and ugly in anger. She straightened from the straw bales and as she spun on him, both her hands supported a huge pregnant belly.

  “Look what you’ve done!” she screamed in his face, tears streaking her cheeks. “You’ve ruined me!”

  Holy fuck!

  His heart was racing as he raised his eyes to her face.

  Only it was no longer Rebecca’s.

  It wasn’t her at all.

  It was Red.

  Her face, her red hair. Her belly.

  “What the fuck!” he shouted, his hand clawing at his chest because of the pressure. He couldn’t breathe. Somebody was sitting on it, crushing him.

  “They’re coming,” Red whispered, pulling out a large knife from the folds of the ugly, plain blue dress. “I can’t let them have this baby.”

  She lifted the knife and instead of lunging at him, she plunged it into her own belly. Her stomach deflated like a popped balloon.

  “What the fuck, Red!”

  He needed to help her but there was no blood, there was nothing.

  “Red,” he tried to step forward, to grab her, but his feet were stuck to the ground. He couldn’t move. “Need to get you away from them. Help me get free.”

  He tried to move again, but it was like his boots were soldered to metal.

  “Free me so I can help you,” he yelled, his rage building, heat rushing through his veins. She needed to choose him so he would no longer be stuck. “It’s me or them, Red.” Once he was unstuck, he could help her.

  “You gotta choose!” he screamed, the fire inside him now burning white hot.

  He reached out his hand to her and she only stared at it.

  “Me... or them!”

  She simply turned and walked away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sig shot straight up on the couch, gasping for air. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples and slid into his beard.

  “Jesus fuck,” Sig muttered on a pant. Either he needed to stop drinking or maybe the pot he’d smoked right before crashing had been laced with something. That nightmare was way too fucked up.
r />   With his pulse still pounding in his ears, he drew his forearm across his brow to wipe off the sweat.

  Movement heading his way caught his eye. The light over the stove in the corner lit her up enough so he could see her belly was still big. Thank fuck she hadn’t stabbed it with a fucking knife.

  He shuddered at the thought. Fuck.

  He got to his feet and met her halfway so she didn’t have to waddle all the way to the couch. “Hey,” he said softly as she kept coming anyway until they were toe to toe.

  She tipped her face up to him, her hair a mess, her expression full of concern. She didn’t say a word, only studied his face, so he quickly masked his own worry.

  For fuck’s sake, her mouth called to him and he struggled not to take it. Because if he started with her mouth, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to end it there.

  So instead, he dug his fingers into her hair on both sides of her head and leaned down until their foreheads were pressed together. “You okay?”

  Her hand pressed against his bare stomach, which was still damp from sweat and bellowing in and out more rapidly than normal. “I came out to ask you that question.”

  “I’m good,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m good. Long as you’re good. You good?”

  “Yes, I’m good. I’m having a hard time sleeping, though.”

  “’Cause of me yellin’ in my sleep?” That had to be what woke her up. He can’t imagine he was quiet through all that craziness.

  “No, because of the baby.”

  Sig went solid. “The what?” That was the first time she acknowledged what was in her belly. Not a fucking seed, a baby. He wondered if the doctor’s visit this morning had shaken something loose in her head.

  “The baby. It’s active. Here.” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to the side of her stomach where it was shifting under his fingers.

  He tipped his eyes up to hers, though he couldn’t focus since their foreheads were still pinned together. “Yeah. It is.”

  “Hopefully that means it’s happy now that it knows it’ll have a family to love it.”

  “Red...”

  She pulled away from him, dropped his hand and turned her back to him. “I’m going to get some water, use the bathroom and go back to bed. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Yeah, baby, I’m okay.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It’s your bed, Sig.”

  She was telling him something she didn’t need to. “Yeah.”

  “You should be in it.”

  He knew that, too. “I got the couch.” He hated the fucking couch. He’d rather be in his bed next to her.

  “You should be in it,” she repeated, this time much more firmly. Once again giving him a peek at what he guessed she used to be like and, hopefully, who she would be again one day.

  It wasn’t impossible. It just might take a while.

  “It’ll help me sleep.”

  He frowned. “You sure?”

  “No. But it can’t hurt, right?”

  Oh fuck yeah, it could hurt. It could end up hurting a lot. “Red...”

  “Only if you want to,” she said softly.

  At that moment, there was nothing he wanted more.

  She headed into the kitchenette, grabbed a plastic cup off the stack he kept on the counter and filled it with tap water. While he was stuck where he was. Completely fucking stuck.

  He watched her lift it and drink, then place the cup back down on the counter. Her eyes on him the whole time.

  Watching him watching her.

  But he still stood there frozen, his feet unable to move. Like in the nightmare.

  “You need anything?”

  She was asking him that? Fuck, he needed so goddamn much. Things he wanted from her she couldn’t give him and never would be able to.

  “I’m good,” he lied.

  She nodded, then headed back down the hall.

  Still, he was stuck where he stood.

  The toilet flushed, the water in the basin ran and the bathroom light clicked off.

  He never heard the bedroom door close.

  She left it open.

  For him.

  She wanted him in his own bed.

  You should be in it.

  Problem was, that was where she was, too.

  When she called his name, his feet suddenly became unstuck and he rushed down the hall and into the dark bedroom.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. I am now.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re here.”

  “Red,” her name got caught in his throat. “I can’t stay.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.”

  “I trust you.”

  Holy fuck. “You shouldn’t.”

  “You haven’t given me a reason not to.”

  “Haven’t been around me long enough.”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “There’s nothin’ good about me, Red. Not one fuckin’ thing. I swear it.”

  “I know that’s not true,” she said, her voice soft and gentle, her words swirling around him, touching him.

  “It is.”

  “No,” she insisted more firmly.

  “You’re not lookin’ hard enough.”

  “I see you.”

  His body jolted. I see you.

  “Can you hold me?”

  This fucking woman was killing him. Taking her knife from the nightmare and driving it into his tiny black heart. “Red... that might not be a good idea.”

  “It’s okay. Just hold me. Please.”

  “But—”

  “It’s okay. I’ll be okay. You’re just going to hold me. That’s it.”

  That may not be it.

  “Red...” Her name caught at the back of his throat. “I don’t know how to be gentle.”

  “Yes, you do. You just forget.”

  What the fuck? Was he still stuck in his dream?

  Sig closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his palms to them. To stem the unfamiliar sting. To tamp down the frustration of her not understanding.

  He wanted to yell at her that she was crazy. That her mind was broken and still wasn’t allowing her to see things clearly.

  Like the baby inside her. Like him.

  She wasn’t recognizing the truth. She was ignoring it.

  By her refusing to see him for who and what he really was could be dangerous.

  She had only seen a very small part of him. She hadn’t had a chance to see him completely. To see the real him. To see him when he spun out of control. When he went on a rampage.

  When he became the monster who destroyed anything and everything in his path.

  She hadn’t seen that.

  He hoped she never would.

  Sometimes he couldn’t stop the storm that raged inside him until he was pepper-sprayed or tased and bound hand and foot.

  Until he was contained like an animal. In a cage, away from everyone else. Unable to hurt anyone else.

  Removed from the rest of society because he was a danger.

  Sometimes it only took the smallest thing to push him over the edge.

  It was why he hadn’t gone up that mountain yet. Because he knew once he did, he’d need an outlet.

  And right now, he had none.

  If he lost it, truly fucking lost it, he would end up back in a concrete box and then he’d have no way to keep Red safe.

  None.

  And he needed to keep her safe.

  She needed him.

  For a reason he couldn’t understand, he also needed her.

  “Sig.”

  His name in her mouth always twisted something deep inside him. “Yeah.”

  “Come to bed.”

  This still had to be part of his dream. It couldn’t be real.

  A woman he had found naked, running for her life in the woods, a woman who he’d only known for not even two weeks, a woman he wanted to touch but couldn’t... That woman wanted
him next to her. In his bed.

  The only time a woman was in his bed was when he was fucking her. Otherwise, there was no reason for her to be there. None.

  Besides being forced to share a bed with his baby sister, he’d only slept with a female once without fucking her. And that was the other night with Red.

  He wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to do it a second night.

  No, he knew he wasn’t fucking strong enough.

  But he’d do it for her.

  Because he’d do anything for her.

  He had no idea why a connection existed between them.

  He knew nothing about her except for bits and pieces of what happened on that mountain. Even that wasn’t much at all.

  But then, she knew nothing about him, either. All she knew was he was the man waiting at the bottom of that mountain for her. To help her survive.

  Maybe nothing else mattered.

  Only that. That single moment.

  Maybe she came into his life to help him survive, too.

  He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, wiping away that unfamiliar dampness.

  Jesus Christ, someone must have slipped some good shit into his weed. Because all those crazy thoughts had to have come from some weird trip he was on.

  “Sig,” she called softly.

  He didn’t answer her this time. Instead, he moved. He slipped out of his jeans and let them drop to the floor, glad he thought ahead to wear boxers.

  Then he moved to the bed and climbed in, tucking his legs under the cool sheets and biting back a groan at how fucking good his mattress felt.

  This time she was already on her side, facing him. He tucked his arms under his head and stared up at the dark ceiling. And though he left a safe gap between them, she closed it, until her hard belly pressed into his side and her hand found his.

  She didn’t hold it, fuck no. She traced her fingers along his, from fingertips to wrist, up his forearm, over his bicep and his shoulder. Her touch light. Not sexual, just an exploration.

  “I forget what it’s like to be touched simply because you want to be touched or someone wants to touch you. Because they want to appreciate you, not hurt you. It’s a different type of touch.”