Roman/Brick Duet (Print)

Roman/Brick (Duet)
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland
Excerpt from Roman

Roman

I’d never been so glad to leave a place behind as I cheerfully rolled out of Lake Worth, Florida. I did my part as enforcer for Iron Tzars, but the entire time we’d been there I felt like we were outgunned. Black Reign MC might not be a rival club, but they were by no means safe. As evidenced by the way they took care of business with the fucking men we’d caught taking orphans from the group home in the city.

Violence didn’t bother me. If a motherfucker deserved it, there was no limit. My balls were twitching because of the casual ease with which that bastard, Chief, had taken the skin off the men he tortured. Yeah, Brick had participated, but our VP was emotionless on the best of days. Chief and El Diablo were different. I wouldn’t say they enjoyed the act, but I wouldn’t say they didn’t, either. It hadn’t bothered them in the least.

But what really had me glad to see this place in my rear view were the twin women who haunted the place like ghosts. Eerily lovely, they always seemed to be where I was. Neither said anything, but they stared at me constantly. More than one of Black Reign’s members gave me the stink-eye over it, too though no one would tell me why. Only that I should stay away from them. I didn’t even know the pair’s names, for fuck’s sake! Didn’t want to know!

I drove the Bronco we’d taken as a chase vehicle down to Lake Worth. Normally I’d ride my bike with the other brothers, but someone had to drive the big thing back to Evansville. As Road Captain, the task would normally fall to Clutch, but he’d had a family emergency and had headed back early. After that, I’d drawn the short straw. My bike was stowed in the trailer, and here I was. Behind the wheel of a fucking cage.

Lost in thought, my eyes on the road as my brothers surrounded the cage in front and behind, I reached over and switched on the radio. I had no desire to dwell on another club. Not even one our former president -- and my long-time friend -- now belonged to. I was an enforcer in Iron Tzars. Not Sergeant at Arms. I didn’t need to find trouble, only punish it. Besides, if Sting -- our current president and son to the former president -- had decided Warlock had to be killed for his infractions against the club, I would be responsible for carrying out the sentence. I didn’t want to do that. It looked like El Diablo had forestalled anything in that regard, though I had no idea why. It was rare for anyone to leave the Iron Tzars. When they did, the situation was permanent. Warlock was only the second man I knew of not to die when he left or was asked to leave. Oh, well. Above my paygrade. I was just thankful I didn’t have to kill my brother.

A tap on my shoulder had my head whipping around. When I saw that same eerily lovely face I’d been trying not to think about right next to mine, I was so startled I jerked the wheel. The girl squealed and disappeared from my immediate vision.

“What the fuck?” The Bronco hit the rumble strips on the shoulder. My tires must have squealed, because several of the riders in front of us either glanced over their shoulder or turned their head slightly to look in their mirrors. They moved to the center lane in case I was out of control. When I slowed and pulled fully onto the shoulder, they followed.

I got as far over as I could but didn’t turn on my flashers. Though we weren’t hauling any contraband, I’d rather not enlist the help of a good Samaritan or, God forbid, the state police.

Once stopped, I put the thing in park and turned around. “What the everlasting, God forsaken fuck are you doing in my fuckin’ vehicle?” I growled at the girl but tried not to yell. I got the feeling she was fragile and, though I was angry, I didn’t want to scare her. As I spoke, the other one poked her head from behind the backseat in the cargo area. “Shoulda guessed. You two ain’t ever far apart.” There was a knock at my window, saving the girls from a lecture.

Instead of rolling down the window, I opened the door and stepped out. The two girls ducked back behind the seat, the first one having returned to what had probably been their hiding place in my fucking Bronco.

“You good?” Brick peered inside the vehicle, looking for a threat. His hand was on the gun at his hip, but he didn’t draw.

“Yeah. Just realized I had a couple of stowaways.”

Brick raised an eyebrow. Instead of explaining, I walked him around to the back and opened the tail door for him to see for himself. They were hiding behind cargo, but both of them poked their heads up when I opened the door so I could see their eyes and the top of their heads over their hiding place.

“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You two in trouble?”

One of them shook her head. The other girl shrank back.

“You know you can’t stay with us. We’ll have to take you back.”

“No.” The braver of the two shook her head. “We want to stay with you.”

“You afraid to go back?” Brick crossed big arms over his brawny chest. “They hurt you?”

Black Reign didn’t seem like the type of club to hurt women. They were protective as all get out of any of the women under their care, especially these two. The idea that any woman might be running from that club didn’t sit well with me, but the thought that either of these women had an issue with them made me want to drive back and beat the fuck out of someone.

“No,” she said in a soft voice. “It was time to leave.”

I looked at Brick. “We’re only an hour from home. We could let Black Reign know once we get back to the clubhouse.”

“Let me check with Sting. He may know something we don’t. If not, he’ll decide what to do.”

“Can we please stop at a gas station or something?” The braver one raised her head farther as she spoke. “It’s why I bothered you. We need a bathroom break.”

“You shoulda said something before now,” I groused. “We’ve been on the fuckin’ road for twelve fuckin’ hours! Stopped twice! Why didn’t you get out then?”

“We were afraid we wouldn’t be quick enough, and we’d get left behind.” Her voice was almost musical but soft. And it affected me like a gentle stroke down my chest headed straight to my cock. I needed to squash that feeling hard. This girl wasn’t up to taking me on, even if she’d wanted to.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this. Get your asses in the back seat and buckle up.” I thought they’d get out the back, but both of them climbed over the back seat and did as instructed.

“Jesus, Roman, could you sound any more like a fuckin’ old man?”

“Shut the fuck up, Brick.” Then I muttered under my breath. “Motherfucker.”

A couple miles down the road, Brick pulled the group over at a Buc-ee’s and everyone in the club surrounded the Bronco as the women got out. And they were women, not older girls like I’d first thought. The shy one shrank behind her sister when the men crowded around them both. We didn’t get into their personal space, but it was something that would have probably freaked any woman out.

“Jesus, guys, back off ‘em!” Iris, Sting’s ol’ lady, was going to be a great match for our president. “Are you trying to frighten them to death?”

Sting chuckled, watching as his woman went to my stowaways. “Better do what she says, boys. She’s a force of nature when she wants to be.”

Naturally, we didn’t need Sting’s OK to back off. The girls looked terrified. The braver one had a determined look on her face as she lifted her chin. “We’re not fragile. There’re a lot of you. And you’re all big.”

“Of course, you’re not fragile.” Iris took her hand and reached for the other one. “Everyone, this is Winter. Her sister here is Serelda.”

“You know them well, baby?” Sting stood close to his woman, but not close enough to spook the other two.

“No. But I’m looking forward to getting to know them.”