Cain/Bohannon Duet (Print)

Cain/Bohannon (Print)
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Cain

“This was a mistake,” Cain muttered under his breath.

“Well, someone’s gotta teach ‘em. They can’t go to public school.”

“No, but there has be a better way.” What Torpedo didn’t understand -- and what Cain refused to tell him -- was that the new teacher they’d hired for the three kids who’d adopted their club was in danger of losing any innocence she might have had. Because he wanted to take it from her. The girl was fresh out of college and so goddamned sexy he nearly creamed his jeans like a fucking teenager every time she cocked her hip in those prim skirts she wore. Her name was Angel Black. An oxymoron if ever there was one.

“She figures out they aren’t really ours, she’ll sic social services on us.” It was a shit excuse, and he knew it. The club had been through this a thousand times. Anyone from outside they hired had the possibility of trying to take the kids away. What no one would care about was the fact that the children had sought out Bones on their own. All three of them had been in the foster system and had been horribly abused by someone.

Torpedo -- Gavin Ferguson -- shrugged. “It is what it is. Though, keep in mind, that girl came from a questionable home life same as these kids. Why are you suddenly against this? You were the one who suggested homeschooling. None of them but Suzie wanted to go to school. It’s not like the boys couldn’t get their GED in a couple of years. They’re smart enough to do it now if they were just old enough.”

Cain scrubbed his hand over his face. “It’s what’s best for the little brats. If they’re under our protection, the least we can do is make sure they have everything they need.”

“I know,” Torpedo agreed. “Which leads us back to the beginning. We keep going round and round over this. Do we do it or not? Because, I gotta tell ya, I could really give a good goddamn. They can’t go to public school, and homeschooling was the best idea. Since none of us have the time to take it on, the only option is to get them a tutor. You don’t like this woman? We’ll try again. You’re the president. We follow your lead.”

Which was the fucking problem. If he turned decisions regarding the kids over to someone else, it would look like he didn’t give a fuck. If he didn’t give a fuck, it was possible the others wouldn’t. They’d all agreed to take on the kids. They were all responsible.

“Just make sure she stays out of my way,” he growled. “I don’t like the woman.”

Torpedo tilted his head. “You what? Why didn’t you say something? You don’t trust her, she goes. Period.”

“No, no. It’s not that. I just don’t like her. The kids seem OK with her. At least, they haven’t run her off. Try her out. If they don’t like her or Data finds dirt on her, she goes.”

“Or she contacts social services.”

“You know that’s a distinct possibility.” Cain scrubbed a hand over his face. He almost hoped she tried to. It would save him the grief of reversing his decision. He’d approved the girl. Of course, that was before he’d seen her.

“Give it a few days. Weeks. Whatever it takes for everyone to be comfortable.”

“Of all the clubs in the fucking country, why’d they pick us?” It was a question they’d tried to get the three kids to answer since they’d shown up at the clubhouse gate six weeks ago. Cliff -- the oldest -- had told Cain that Bones had “seemed like a good place to make a home.” Who the fuck said that about a motorcycle club?

“Beats the fuck outta me, but here we are.” Torpedo clapped him on the shoulder. “Bohannon is sticking with the kids tonight. I’ll see you at the Boneyard later tonight. Sword will be on you.” Cain hated that the club put guards on him, but Torpedo wouldn’t have it any other way. As vice-president, it was his right to insist even if Cain disagreed.

“Fuck off.” He flipped off the vice president as he turned away from him.

Cain looked around the sunroom where Miss Black had set up their school. From what Cain could tell, Suzie was kicking the boys’ asses. Though he wouldn’t put it past Cliff and Daniel to be doing subpar work intentionally in order to boost Suzie’s self-confidence. He’d caught them doing little things like that for the girl. All three had been through a rough time in the foster system, and Bones had sworn to protect them from it ever again. The boys were fourteen and fifteen while Suzie was only eleven. The boys would have at least some say in their own situations while little Suzie would be at the mercy of the juvenile court system. They still hadn’t gotten out of the kids how they’d heard about Bones or what exactly had happened to them, but the only time Suzie seemed normal was when Miss Black had her in class.

As if she knew they were talking about her, Angel turned her head, glancing at him over her shoulder. Fuck. He didn’t need this. The second her gaze collided with his, she ducked her head and turned back again. Her shoulders hunched a little, and she studiously focused on the children.

“Fuck,” he swore, this time out loud.

“Indeed,” Torpedo muttered. “Go to the bar. Relax. Take one of the club girls and get laid, but let this go.”

If only it were that simple. Maybe with enough whisky…

“Yeah. Boneyard, here I come.”

The Boneyard was the bar the club owned and operated. In their little corner of the great state of Kentucky, the place was unique. Located in the boring little town of Somerset, it was the only biker bar in the area. While Louisville and Lexington both sported a few MC clubs, South Central Kentucky didn’t have many other than local weekend warriors. The Boneyard, however, was always packed with one variety of biker or another. Didn’t seem to matter if they were one-percenters or just bikers who wanted to get together to ride and support their community, anyone who was part of any MC club made it their business to be at the Boneyard when they were in the area. Probably because Bones kept it a safe place to do business. Neutral territory. All they asked was ten percent of the deal. They’d only had one club refuse to honor their deal. It hadn’t worked out so well for the other club. Retaliation had been swift and brutal. None of it leading back to Bones, but the message had been received by everyone. The other ninety-nine percent of MCs just wanted the atmosphere. Cain suspected many legitimate clubs also sought one-percenter clubs to take care of business they didn’t want to get their hands dirty with. As long as Bones made their ten percent, Cain didn’t give a fuck what deals they struck.

Thirty minutes later, he had a shot of Jack Daniels down and one on the way. Another one waiting in front of him. He sat back in a corner, his back to the wall where he could see the entrance and the door leading to the back. The lighting was dim so he could disappear into the shadows easily enough and just watch the goings-on around him.

Cain prided himself in knowing every person who came into the Boneyard. When a new group entered, Data, their tech guy, used his techno magic to compile a full background on them before they left. By the end of the night, Bones knew everything about the newcomers and where their interests lay. While Boneyard was neutral territory, there were certain things Cain absolutely would not tolerate.

He was just starting to sip his third shot when little Miss Angel Black took a tentative step inside the bar.

Fuck.

She looked just as she always did. Sexy as fuck, dressed in a conservative, knee-length black skirt and a cream-colored blouse that came up to her neck with a black jacket. She had black hose and black kitten-heeled pumps with delicate straps that wrapped around her slender ankles. It made Cain wonder if she wore garters to hold up those stockings. Which made him hard as fuck.