Give Me Strength: Broken Deeds MC #7.5

  “GIVE ME STRENGTH”

  BROKEN DEEDS MC #7.5

  By Esther E. Schmidt

  Copyright © 2019 by Esther E. Schmidt All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, places, characters and other stuff mentioned in this book is the results of the author’s imagination. Give Me Strength is a work of fiction. If there is any resemblance, it is entirely coincidental.

  This content is for mature audiences only. Please do not read if sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  Cover design by:

  Esther E. Schmidt

  Editor #1:

  Christi Durbin

  Editor #2:

  Virginia Tesi Carey

  Dedication

  To all who love some more Deeds & Lynn…

  This one’s for you.

  Table of contents

  ARCHER & BEATRICE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  DEEDS & LYNN

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  ARCHER & BEATRICE

  Broken Deeds MC, Second Generation

  CHAPTER ONE

  — Archer —

  I hear the door swing open but without looking up I grumble, “We’re closed.”

  There’s no reply and I don’t hear the sound of the door hitting them on the ass on their way out. Reluctantly, I drag my attention away from the sketch I was working on to see who walked into my tattoo shop.

  Biker boots, a leather jacket, and in between a nice curvy ass molded into light blue jeans. Nice ass. In my mind it needs to be mentioned twice because, damn! My eyes travel up to the hair thrown into a honey colored messy bun. Wait. I know that ass.

  Beatrice. What the hell is the daughter of the vice president of Areion Fury MC doing in the tattoo shop of the president of another MC? Okay, no one knows I’m the president since everything happened at lightning speed today—due to issues out of our control—but still . . . she shouldn’t be here.

  “You’re not allowed in here, Bee. I’m pretty sure daddy won’t allow you to get any piercing or ink either.” The corner of my mouth twitches when she shoots a glare over her shoulder.

  Some might be annoyed by her feistiness but I actually enjoy riling her up. We don’t get to meet up much nowadays, but back in the day? I actually haven’t seen her in three years. Our two MCs are connected and yet they are miles apart.

  The connection angle is easily explained. My mother is the sister of their president. And my parents hooking up didn’t go down without a fight. So even if Bee and I aren’t related in any way, we’re also not allowed to date or spend time together.

  “I already have a piercing, so I guess some ink would be nice,” she mutters but her eyes stay on the window.

  I silently stalk over to her and whisper right next to her ear, “Show me the piercing, Bee, ‘cause I think you’re lying.”

  A gasp rips from her body and she spins around, ready to grab hold and push me away. With one smooth move I have her wrists in a tight grip but it doesn’t last long. Since I need to dodge her knee in an effort to protect my crown jewels.

  “Dammit, woman, relax,” I growl and her whole face falls.

  “Sorry.” The one word is filled with regret and emotion as if she’s carrying a truckload of worry on her shoulders.

  I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and tilt her chin to connect our eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I have a stalker.” She winces and adds underneath her breath, “My dad will go on a rampage if I tell him. I can’t allow for that to happen because I’m not completely sure, and I have no one else to talk to.”

  Anger instantly spikes my veins. If the whole stalker thing is true, her father wouldn’t be the one going on a rampage; that would be all me. And to be honest, I’m the right man to handle this. My club takes cases the government hands them in secret to take on and achieves justice by any means necessary.

  I let my thumb slide over her jaw, making electricity bounce between us.

  “Sounds to me like you came to the right place,” I tell her and relief slides over her face.

  Her eyes peer over my shoulder out of the window and shift to the door. Clearly her relief didn’t last long and my heart tugs with concern. I’m not liking the look on her face and for the first time in my life I want to protect a woman with such ferocity, I’m ready to kill whoever wronged her.

  I step away and head for the door to lockup. “Come on, let’s head into the back.”

  I guide her into my workspace, grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and hold it out for her to take.

  “What?” she says with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she accepts the bottle. “Don’t I get something a little stronger? A stiff . . . hard . . . whatever.”

  “My dick?” I chuckle and shake my head. “You’re not ready for me yet, Bee. If you were, we wouldn’t be talking, and you wouldn’t be asking. I would be balls deep inside you, highlighting enough pleasure to tie you to me for the rest of our lives.”

  Shit. Wrong words, but they sound so damn right.

  She slowly inches forward. “We shouldn’t,” she says on a mere whisper as she licks her bottom lip before she adds, “My parents would flip. Both MCs would collide.”

  “We’ve been dancing around each other for way too long, Bee. If you kiss me now, I won’t settle for a mere taste,” I warn.

  She places the bottle on the counter next to us and challenges me with words voiced in a husky-as-fuck tone, “What would it take for you to settle, Archer?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  — Beatrice —

  My heart races and a massive explosion of butterflies flutters inside my belly, all because of the man standing before me. He’s right. We have been dancing around each other for years. Always with the solid line in between us we shouldn’t cross.

  We’re from different MCs. Rules. Club business. Off-limits. But our sizzling connection is undeniable. And when I had the feeling of being followed again for the third time this week, I somehow ended up in front of Archer’s tattoo shop.

  I’m done listening to rules set by others. I want to follow my heart for a change and experience what it would feel like to give into our scorching chemistry. That’s why I threw the challenge at him. I need to know what he would settle for since I’m willing to risk whatever’s at stake if we cross that line.

  He leans in close and whispers, “I want to completely possess you, Bee. I want your taste on my tongue, my dick inside your pussy, your heart in my hands, and your soul merged with mine. That’s the whole ‘never settle for less’ I’d demand. I fucking ache for you. Always have, always will.”

  I’m trying to focus on my breathing because his low, promising voice makes me dizzy with all the emotions he unlocks inside my body. His lips feather over my earlobe before I feel his teeth slightly graze my skin.

  “Archer,” I gasp and a moan tumbles from my lips when his hands grip my hips.

  “I’m right here, Bee,” he says, but instantly steps away.

  I’m confused and watch how he pats the tattoo chair.

  “Jump on if you’re the one in control. Don’t let your father dictate your life. The choice is yours. If you don’t want there to be an us? I’ll make sure you get home safe and handle the sta
lker issue anyway. But if you’re in?” His gaze hits my body and slides over me as if he’s highlighting every inch of my skin. “Then we make it official. You and me, Bee. I don’t care if you want to keep us a secret from your dad. Because that’s the only roadblock in our way since I’m now the president of my MC. So, what will it be?”

  I keep my eyes locked with his. There aren’t any words needed. We’ve known each other our entire lives. We both felt a strong connection growing as each year passed until we were all grown up. Adulting means facing everything around us, respecting laws and family expectations of the life we were raised in.

  But what about us? How can my father object when this feels so right? I don’t even have to think twice because my mind and body replies automatically by taking a seat. I know what he’s offering and what’s coming. A tattoo. The tattoo. A claim to be his old lady because that’s the way of his MC.

  When a biker of Broken Deeds claims an old lady, they each have two weeks to get the tattoo. If the woman doesn’t, she’s tested for loyalty. Loyalty to the club and to her old man. I am very aware of the rules of his club. Like I said; the both of us were raised in MC life. Both MCs have been living right alongside of each other and yet they profoundly stand on their own.

  Broken Deeds being the most dangerous one since they secretly work for the government and face risks on a daily basis. I’m sure that’s the whole reason why my father demands I stay away from Archer. All about being cherished and kept out of danger. Yet, I feel completely safe when I’m around Archer.

  Archer doesn’t waste words either. His eyes are scorching when he gets things ready for my tattoo. His tattoo; his claim. He leans over and guides me down. His hand slides over my hip and moves toward the button of my jeans.

  “We want our commitment to be our business. I’ve wanted this for a long damn time and have dreamed of seeing my mark on you.”

  A shiver runs through my body when he slides the zipper down and opens my jeans, exposing my deep purple silk panties. I take in the flare of his appreciation and in this moment I’m thankful to have a sexy lingerie addiction.

  The tips of his fingers slide over the material, slightly pulling it down. “Right here would be perfect, don’t you think?” he croaks.

  “Perfect.” I give him a dashing smile, hoping I don’t look like an idiot who is head over heels in love and finally gets her prince on a steel horse. Since I’ve been dreaming of this moment for many nights on end.

  “More than fucking perfect,” he muses and gets to work.

  He takes his time to ink the red patch, with the head of a bald eagle in the middle and his name engraved on the upper circle. The burning pain while seeing him working and taking his time is overflowing my body with different emotions.

  He tries to distract me by asking questions. Questions about my thoughts about the stalker and how long it’s been going on. Archer is calm and runs the ink as smoothly as a knife cutting through butter, yet I can see by the lines around his eyes and the tic in his jaw just how much all of it affects him.

  “All done,” he eventually says and starts to clean everything.

  I jump off the chair and stroll toward the mirror to look at the tiny red circle. So delicate. So pretty. And so much meaning behind something as simple as ink on skin. I turn to watch the man—who is now bound to me—lock everything up.

  And it’s then I realize, “Aren’t you getting the patch inked?”

  He gives me a smirk and holds out his left arm, pulling his sleeve slightly up to show the inside of his forearm. “I already have it; I was just waiting on you.”

  A gasp rips from my throat and I take in the red patch on the inside of his wrist. There’s no name but there’s a little yellow bee standing out on top of it. The name he always uses for me; Bee. It’s somehow more sentimental in this moment because my father uses Bug as a term of endearment for my mother. Everything is finally falling into place.

  I swallow hard and let my fingers trail over his tattoo, realizing he knew we were meant to be together one day, no matter what.

  CHAPTER THREE

  — Archer —

  I feel a hard smack on my shoulder and hear Wyatt—my cousin who is also my VP—call my name. He breaks through my thoughts, which were with Bee, who is currently still sleeping in my bed.

  I took her with me to the clubhouse late last night. She was absolutely drained and I needed to make sure she got a good night’s sleep. And for my own piece of mind, it needed to be underneath my roof.

  “Pres,” Wyatt, snaps louder this time. “We done with the meeting, or what?”

  “We’re done,” I grumble.

  A handful of brothers get up from their chair and head out. We have regular meetings in church to update each other about current cases, hand out new tasks, and discuss urgent matters. Wyatt and I are the only ones left when he stalks to the door and closes it.

  “Everything okay?” he questions, knowing me all too well.

  I run my hand over the back of my neck. Wyatt is not only family through this MC but our fathers are also brothers; family in all ways. We grew up together and I trust him completely. His father stepped down as VP when I took the gavel from my father, allowing us both to follow in our father’s footsteps.

  “Bee is my old lady,” I tell him, making my claim official.

  Wyatt doesn’t so much as twitch and calmly replies, “Tell me something I don’t know. Or did you finally share the news with anyone outside of our MC? Or better yet, let her know you claimed her. We’ve known since the day we got back from the last Areion Fury MC barbecue they invited us to. You know, the one where you kissed her for the first time in front of everyone?” The fucker shoots a grin as if he’s reliving the moment. “Dams went nuts and dragged you away from his daughter, punching Deeds in the face for not keeping his son away from his daughter. It was also the day you inked the patch on your forearm.”

  I didn’t even have the chance to deepen the damn kiss. It was a spur of the moment thing. I just had to kiss her when our eyes locked. We always had a connection but seeing her back then was when it hit me harder. And I knew, fucking knew deep down she was meant to be mine.

  “I inked my property patch on her skin last night,” I simply state and watch his eyes bulge.

  “You’re fucking with me,” he gasps.

  I slowly shake my head. “Nope. She’s in my bed. But it’s not how it sounds. She’s in my bed because I need to know she’s safe and well-rested. She thinks she has a stalker. The details she told me, along with the research I did, leads me to believe her concerns are valid. This fucker is twisted and I could use a little help to end this situation she’s in.”

  “Are you keeping the claim quiet for now?”

  “I’m the fucking president. Broken Deeds doesn’t have any issues with my claim. There’s no denying: she was born to be the president’s old lady. It’s that simple. The only problem is the VP of Areion Fury MC, her father. So, we’ll keep it quiet for her part of the family for now to avoid confrontation. Or until I find a way for them to accept she’s mine.”

  Wyatt snickers. “It’s stupid how Dams keeps fighting it. Everyone sees and knows you two have a deep connection.” He grips my leather cut and drags me close, smacking me on the back a few times, before letting go. “I’m happy for you, man.”

  “I’ll be happy when I don’t have to worry about her being on the back of my bike without her father coming to kill me,” I snicker, but turn serious when I add, “And when I’ve cleared up the stalker issue.”

  “Tell me everything,” Wyatt says and stalks back to his seat.

  I grab the file I stashed into the cabinet when I got in here an hour before the meeting started.

  “Robbie Neale, twenty-nine years old, lives with his grandmother and that’s also the connection with Bee. Bee volunteers to visit elderly people, a little chat, pick up groceries, whatever they might need. At first the guy was nowhere in sight since she didn’t know he lived in his g
randmother’s basement. But once he stumbled into the living room one day and saw Bee, he’s been there whenever she comes to visit the old woman. She’s noticed him a few times this week following her. And when she went to visit the old woman earlier this week, Robbie answered the door. He told Bee his grandmother wasn’t feeling well. Asked her to spend the day with him instead. He creeps her out so she left and when she tried to call the next day, the woman didn’t pick up either. When she tried again the next day Robbie answered and asked her to come over. Bee talked to her supervisor, who handles the volunteer work, about it and she called to check on the woman. Robbie explained how his grandmother went to visit her sister out of state. I checked. The old woman is an only child. I’d say the grandmother should be considered missing at this point. And here, look at this shit.”

  I take a few papers from the file in front of me and hand them over to Wyatt.

  “You’ve managed to crack his computer and check out his browser history? Motherfucker, we need to do a more thorough background, this is—” He stops talking and switches to curses.

  “I know. And check this.” I reach for the other papers and hand them over. “His father is a real piece of work. Seems like DNA is making him follow in daddy’s footsteps.”

  “That’s one hell of a rap sheet,” Wyatt murmurs and glances over everything. “I think you’re right. Do we need to put others on this case? It’s an official case, right?”

  “It is, and I already have Ganza on it since I needed his computer expertise. He’s on stakeout duty. And I wanted to ask for your help too.”

  Wyatt nods. “You got it. What’s the plan?”

  “To end it.” I shoot him a sinister grin which he returns.

  “Do her parents know?”

  I shake my head. “She didn’t want to tell them; afraid her father would go on a rampage and get himself in trouble.”