The Cut(17)

"Gordon got off. He's gonna walk away with only a few stitches," Stake  announced, keeping one eye on Cecil and the other on Hog who was rubbing  his side. "The way I see it, either Gordon needs to fucking die, or I  need to get Santana the hell away from this town." He planned to take  care of Gordon regardless, but Cecil didn't need to know that.

"The cops'll expect you to act on Gordon, so you'd best lay your ass low  for the time being," Cecil ordered, leaning back to sit on the edge of  his desk. "You continue to make weekly trips to check on the girls and  stop giving them shit about the drugs, and I'll think about a transfer  between now and the Fayetteville ride."

"Who's going to watch Santana when I'm gone? If you think I'm leaving  her alone with someone like Gordon running loose, you're fucking crazy."  No way would Stake take Santana to check in on a bunch of whores. She  might be aware that the Kings peddled pussy, but that didn't mean he  wanted her around it.

"We'll figure something out," Cecil replied.

"What's going on between the two of you?" Magic asked.

"She's mine, and that's all you need to know." Stake wondered if the VP's question had anything to do with his daughter.

"She your old lady then?" Cecil asked.

Although he hadn't discussed that sort of arrangement with Santana,  Stake felt confident in his feelings. "Looks that way. Which means the  Kings are done paying Gordon."

"Easier said than done," Hog said, still pissed over Stake's punch.

"What if Gordon tried to rape Alma. Would you still work with him?" Stake asked.

Hog made a face. "Hell, if Gordon could pry Alma's legs apart, he'd be doing better than me."

Stake took a step toward the Sergeant at Arms. "It's not a fuckin' joke, asshole!"

"We can't just stop paying him. Gordon knows our schedules," Cecil argued.

Stake couldn't believe what he'd just heard. "I thought you were all about protecting innocents."

Cecil held up his hand. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I can't  throw away our relationship with Gordon because of the fucked up  situation with Santana."

In that moment, Stake knew he was leaving Broken Ridge with or without  Cecil's permission. He loved being part of a brotherhood, but the Broken  Ridge chapter no longer felt like home. "One month," he said, holding  up a finger as he turned and left the office.



By the time Stake walked out of the clubhouse, Santana and Tiny had  managed to get somewhat reacquainted. She doubted their friendship would  ever fully recover, but she was confident that she could talk to Tiny  if she needed to.

"Hey," she greeted Stake with a kiss. Although he kissed her back, she could tell something was wrong. "How'd it go?"

"Not good." He glanced at Tiny. "Thanks for keeping an eye on my girl."

Tiny slid off the table. "No problem." He slapped Stake on the back. "Catch up with you two later."

As soon as Tiny disappeared into the club, Stake sat down and pulled her  onto his lap. "There's a big gathering in Fayetteville, Arkansas in  October. I want you to go with me."

"Okay," she agreed. "I've always wanted to go with you on a run."

He kissed her temple. "Something's been bothering me, and I keep telling  myself to give you more time, but I think it's time we talked."

"What's wrong?" She bit her bottom lip. Had Cecil told Stake to get rid of her? She wouldn't put it past that creepy bastard.

He sighed. "I need to know about the drawings and the shirt." He tipped  her chin up. "I know you had a crush on me when you were younger, but  was it more than that?"

Embarrassed by the question, she broke eye contact. "You're the only man  I've ever wanted, but until a few days ago, you couldn't see me as a  woman."

"That's not true." He maneuvered her until she straddled his lap,  putting the bulge in his jeans against her pussy. "I saw you about seven  years ago."         

     



 

She nodded, remembering how bad it had hurt when he'd stopped to talk to  Gordon and hadn't even bothered to come over and say hi to her. "I was  sunbathing."

"Yeah, and your tits were so fucking unbelievable that I got hard on the spot," he confessed.

"So why didn't you make a move then? Why now?" She'd been almost  eighteen with a mother who hadn't even noticed she was alive. Even  though a part of her had hated him, she still would have welcomed his  attention.

"You weren't legal, and even dead, Smash was still my best friend."

"I never understood why you liked my dad. He was such a bastard."

"Smash was loyal to me, your mother, and the club. To you, yeah, he was a  real sonofabitch for a while. I can't tell you how many times I asked  him why he was so hard on you, and he could never give me an answer."

"Do you think he hated me?" It was a question she'd asked herself so  many times. She'd never understood why he got so mad at her every time  he drank. How he could hit his own flesh and blood?

"No." He cupped her face in his hands. Tears filled his eyes, surprising  the hell out of her. "I think … " He shook his head and cleared his  throat. "I think he noticed you as a woman, and it filled him with so  much shame that he took that anger out on you."

The thought disgusted her, but something niggled in the back of her  mind. In her early years, Smash had been somewhat kind to her. It wasn't  until after she'd started her menstrual cycle that he seemed to change  the way he treated her. She couldn't believe she'd never made the  connection. Her hand flew to her mouth as she scrambled off Stake's lap.  "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Stake was at her side in no time, wrapping an arm around her waist to  steady her as he tried to hold her hair back. Her body lurched as she  lost her battle to hold it in. Thoughts of her father watching her when  she wasn't aware spiraled through her head. Had she ever changed in  front of him? Had he ever snuck into the bathroom while she'd taken a  shower? Another round of vomit splashed to the ground as she started to  cry. She'd always known her mom didn't love her, but to find out her dad  might have loved her so much he felt the need to beat her every time he  got drunk and felt guilty was so fucking sick.

Stake wiped her mouth with the black bandana he usually kept folded in  his back pocket. "It's okay, lady bug. I've got you." He swung her up  into his arms and took off around the building to the parking lot.

She clung to Stake. "I know I should be grateful that he didn't do  anything beyond beating me, but I hate him more than I ever have."

He set her on the back of his bike. "Are you well enough to hang on?" he asked as he buckled her helmet's chinstrap.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just take me home. I need a shower." She wasn't okay.  The revelation about her father did more to screw her up than Gordon  could have ever hoped to. Gordon was a pig, but her dad …

Stake climbed on the bike and directed her hands on his stomach instead of his cock. "Just for tonight."

She closed her eyes and leaned against him as they took off.



Once they arrived at the house, Stake gave Santana time alone in the  bathroom. When he heard sobs through the bathroom door, it had taken all  his strength not to barge in and wrap her in his arms.

He hadn't known if his suspicions of Smash were right, but it was damn  obvious Santana did. "Fuck." He dragged his fingers through his hair as  he paced the bedroom floor. As sick as it was, he gave his friend credit  for not acting on his desires. As much as the beatings had affected  Santana, rape would have destroyed her.

The door opened and she came out wearing nothing but a goddamn towel. He  clenched his hands into fists in an effort to control himself. In her  present state, whatever happened between them, needed to be initiated by  her.

"I know you said you noticed my body that day when I was sunbathing, but  did you ever see me as woman before that?" she asked, her voice still  thick from the tears she'd shed.

Holy fucking Christ, how could he answer that question? Had he noticed  she was growing into a gorgeous woman, hell yes. If he told her the  truth, would she turn away from him? He stared at her for a long time  before answering. "Yeah," he whispered. "I definitely noticed the  changes in you as you grew older."

Her dark eyebrows drew together as she bit her bottom lip. He could tell  it wasn't the answer she'd wanted. He took several steps towards the  door. Her apparent disgust was fucking killing him. "I'll understand if  you want to sleep in your room."         

     



 

It was the best he could do. He hadn't even told her the whole truth and he'd hurt her. "I'm sorry."

Santana dropped her towel and casually walked over to the bed. Rumpled  from their earlier lovemaking, the bed looked huge as she slid her tiny  body onto the mattress.