The Cut(27)

"Fuck, babe," Stake groaned. He squeezed her bare ass and lifted her up before letting her sink back down.

Each time he repeated the action, his fingers moved closer to her  asshole. She'd become accustomed to his anal play while they fucked, but  he'd never taken it beyond a finger or two. On more than one occasion,  she'd almost asked him to take her there, but she'd always been too  embarrassed to admit she wanted it. With the booze coursing through her  blood, however, her inhibitions fell away.         

     



 

"When are you going to fuck me there?" she asked when his finger penetrated her.

"Soon," he growled, pumping his finger in and out of her ass as he  continued to fuck her pussy. "It'll take patience. I'll have to go slow  with you, and I can't because every time you're naked in my arms, all I  can think about is fucking your cunt."

She braced her hands on his shoulders and took over, riding his cock as  fast as the tight confines of the pickup allowed. She wanted all of him.  Every drop of seed, every look, touch and ounce of love he could spare  for her.

Panting, she threw her head back. "I'm close."

Stake's entire body went rigid and she thought he'd come, but when she looked at him, his focus was on the road off to the left.

"Stop," he told her, lifting her off his cock.

When he set her on the seat, she groaned in frustration. "What the  hell?" God, she'd been too close to be denied. She reached for her pussy  to finish herself off when Stake stilled her hand.

"Cops," he warned as he stuffed his cock back into his jeans.

Her attention snapped to the line of police vehicles speeding towards  the parking lot with lights flashing. Oddly enough, their sirens weren't  blaring. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." He reached over and helped her pull her dress down.  "Whatever it is, it's not good." He eyed the hidden compartment where he  kept his gun.

"No," she warned.

Stake met Santana's gaze. "I love you," he whispered as the police surrounded the pickup.

"What have you done?" she asked. Dammit, she'd wanted to kill Gordon before Stake had a chance to get to him.



"Get your hands up in the air where we can see them!" a deep voice shouted.

Still staring at Santana, Stake tried to figure out what the hell was  going on. It wasn't the first time the local cops had tried to make a  bust at one of the club gatherings, but they didn't appear to be after  anyone but him. "Say nothing, but do what they ask," he ordered as he  raised his hands into the air.

Santana nodded and lifted her arms. "I love you," she said as their doors were thrown open.

Stake was jerked from the truck and pushed to the ground. The gravel bit  into his body when three of the cops fell on top of him. What the fuck?  He wasn't even resisting. "What's this about?" he demanded to know.

One of the cops wrenched Stake's arms behind his back. "Motherfucker!"  Stake yelled when the cop pinched the skin of his wrist with the cuffs.  "What the hell is going on?" He tried to turn his head to find Santana,  but a knee against the side of his face kept him in place.

Cuffs in place, two cops jerked Stake up by his arms. "You're under  arrest for the murder of Peter Gordon," one of the local cops hissed in  Stake's ear.

The blood drained from his face as the charge sank in. He hadn't killed  Gordon. Fuck. He frantically searched the growing crowd for Santana.  When he spotted her, bile rose in his throat. Robby had her pressed  against his patrol car, running his hands slowly up her bare thighs.  "Langers!" he screamed as he fought against the cops holding him.

Robby turned his head and grinned at Stake as his hands disappeared  under the short hem of Santana's dress. "Just frisking her," Robby  yelled back. "Doing my job."

With her forehead rested on the hood of the car and her arms handcuffed  behind her, Santana's entire body shook with wracking sobs. Oh. God. He  fought again, knowing Robby's treatment would send her back to the night  of her attack. "No!" he screamed as he kicked out against the men  wrestling him to the ground.

"Help her!" he shouted to the crowd of brothers witnessing the event.

A kick to his ribs knocked the breath out of him as a punch landed  against the side of his face. Never had he felt so goddamned helpless.  Tears filled his eyes as he continued to stare at the love of his life.

A SUV pulled up, siren blaring. It cut off with a chirp as Jack Boone  climbed out of his vehicle. Stake prayed the Texas Ranger would help  Santana. When Jack made his way toward Stake, Stake shook his head.  "Santana!"

Jack stopped and glanced around, his gaze finally landing on Santana.  "What the fuck!" he yelled, marching over to Langers. He pushed Robby  away from Santana and immediately pulled out a set of keys to release  her from her cuffs. With a nod to Stake, Jack turned Santana around and  pulled her against him. He spoke to her, but they were too far away for  Stake to hear what was being said. It didn't matter to him. All that he  cared about was keeping Langers away from her. He stopped fighting the  cops and laid in the gravel, his entire body on fire from the blows and  scrapes it had suffered while trying to get to Santana.         

     



 

Jack wasn't perfect, but he was the best cop Stake had ever come across.  He hoped he'd use his power to make sure Santana was treated fairly. As  he continued to watch Jack soothe Santana, he couldn't help but worry  that she had something to do with Gordon's death, but how was that  possible? Since picking her up at the store the previous day, Santana  hadn't been out of his sight except for the few minutes he'd been in a  meeting with Cecil.

Jack walked Santana to his SUV and opened the door for her. He spoke to  her again as he gently helped her into the backseat. After shutting her  inside, he walked toward Stake. "Who's in charge?" he asked.

"I am," Buz Reynolds, the Broken Ridge Chief-of – Police, said as he stepped forward.

Jack put his hands on his hips. "I'd suggest you control your men before this crowd steps in to do it for you."

Stake noticed Tiny standing a few feet from Jack's SUV. With his hands  fisted at his sides, Tiny stared at Santana through the darkened window.  Tiny? He remembered Santana being unable to find Tiny earlier in the  evening, and at that moment, Stake knew Tiny had killed Gordon. The  timing had been absolutely perfect because Stake and Santana both had  alibis. Oh, shit. He fucking owed Tiny his life for what he'd done.



As he sped his way toward home, Stake continued to watch the rearview  mirror for any sign he was being followed. The police had kept him and  fourteen other brothers who'd tested positive for gunshot residue on  their hands and clothing for over five hours while they'd questioned  them over and over again. Each time Stake had made the same statement.  He'd been at the party all evening and hadn't left the premises.  Fortunately, he had close to fifty people who could corroborate his  story. The same could be said for the rest of the brothers who tested  positive.

Of course Jack and the other Rangers who'd shown up knew one of them was  lying, but they couldn't pin the crime on any one of them. Stake was  under no illusion that they would stop looking for answers and evidence  of the shooting, but for now, they'd been forced to let them go with a  warning not to leave town.

He pulled into his driveway and slammed on the brakes before jumping out  of the truck. Hog's wife, Birdie, had taken Santana home soon after  Jack had determined Santana's hands were clean.

As soon as he entered the house, Birdie jumped to her feet. "She's in the bathroom. I can't get her to talk to me."

Stake nodded. "Thanks for staying with her. I'll take it from here." He  entered the master bedroom and knocked on the bathroom door. "Hey, babe?  Can I come in?"

Nothing. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of her suffering alone  for hours. He prayed she hadn't done something stupid. He rushed to the  kitchen and retrieved the ice pick from the drawer before running back  to the bathroom. It took only a moment for him to pop the lock and open  the door.

Santana sat in the tub with her bent legs pressed against her torso.  Arms wrapped around her legs, she rocked back and forth, seemingly  unaware of his presence.

Within minutes, he was out of his clothes and prepared to join her in  the tub. When his foot hit the water, he jerked back. "It's fucking  freezing," he admonished, flipping the lever that would drain the water.

He teetered between lifting her out of the tub and joining her. In the  end, he decided there had to be a reason she had climbed into the water  in the first place. He began to refill the tub with warm water as he  moved to squeeze in behind her. She still hadn't spoken, but she did  turn to her side and rest her cheek against his chest. "Talk to me, lady  bug."