Bad Apple (The Uncertain Saints MC #4) (18 page)

BOOK: Bad Apple (The Uncertain Saints MC #4)
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“So are
you ready for me?” I ran
the backs of my fingers up her leg lightly.

Up and down I went as I watched small goosebumps break out over the sensitive skin.

She gasped slightly, her breath hitching in anticipation when my fingers ventured close to her pussy lips.

“I’m more than ready,” she whispered. “I watched you shower and played with myself.”

My eyebrows shot to the top of my head at her words.

“You’re a dirty girl, then?” I
breathed against her mouth.

A slow smile broke out over her face.

“Check and see,” she invited.

I bent down until my mouth was only inches away from her pussy, and then gave one long, unhurried lick.

Her flavor burst on my taste buds, making my already hard cock practically strain the confines of my skin.

“Goddammit,” I hissed. “You taste so good. I could get lost in everything that is you.”

“Hurry or we’ll be late,” she insisted, holding her hands out to me.

I bent over her, putting all of my weight into my fisted hands on either side of her head.

“Guide me in,” I told her.

She reached for my cock, and I had to close my eyes to keep from coming just at the feel of her hand around my straining erection.

“Don’t,” I said in a strangled groan when she pumped it twice.

She pumped one more time and my eyes nearly crossed at the pleasure that small hand could inflict on me.

Then she guided the ruddy head of my cock to her entrance, and I slowly pushed inside.

She gasped and arched, her belly meeting mine for a few long seconds as I sank deeply inside of her to the hilt.

“You feel so good,” she breathed. “The first seconds after you enter me are like an electrocution to my nerve endings.”

I couldn’t agree more.

The way her tight heat practically clung to my invading cock was nothing short of life altering.

The alarm on my phone signaling it was time to leave sounded somewhere in the vicinity of the bathroom, and I caught Kitt’s eyes.

“Hurry,” she urged. “Give it to me fast!”

I wanted to laugh.

If I gave it to her how she wanted it, it’d literally be two point five seconds.

Which obviously she wanted when her heels started digging into my bare ass.

The waistband of my underwear dug into my ass as I started to hasten my thrusts.

One thrust. Two. Three.

She gasped and started to writhe underneath me.

“Oh God,” she gasped.

Then I felt her pretty, wet pussy start to convulse, and I let go.

My release poured out of me, and I grunted with each spurt that burst from me.

“Jesus,” she said, pushing at my chest. “You’re heavy.”

I went up to my knees and she gasped for breath.

Then started to laugh when she pointed to her stomach.

“Our daughter didn’t like you taking any of her room,” she pointed to her belly.

My cock instantly deflated as if it never was.

“Shit. Sorry,” I said. “Gonna have to do that differently from now on.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed for her discarded t-shirt, placing it between her legs and waddling to the bathroom.

“You better hurry,” she ordered, tossing me my phone that was still sounding its alarm.

I caught it and shut the alarm off.

Tossing it to the bed, I righted my underwear, smoothed out my shirt, yanked on my pants, and then shoved my feet into socks.

“Your boots are somewhere near the front door,” she called when I started looking.

I smiled and ran to the bathroom, placing a soft kiss on her forehead where she stood brushing her teeth.

She leaned her head into me, and then said, “Go.”

I did, stopping only long enough to grab my phone.

“Make sure you call me and let me know how the doctor’s appointment went!” I called to her.

“Yes, sir!” She called. “Love you!”

I smiled and called, “Love you, too!”

Then I walked out the door, not knowing that later that day, I’d be receiving a call that would change my life.

***

Later that afternoon

“Licenses, please,” I called to the two teenagers.

I eyed the empty beer cans in the bottom of the boat, then rolled my eyes when both boys looked at each other.

“We don’t…have them with us right now,” he lied.

I looked down at the thirty or so catfish on the stringer tied to the boat, and then back at the boys.

“Are y’all under sixteen?” I asked.

They both looked at each other again.

See, in the state of Texas, if you were under the age of sixteen, you didn’t have to have a license to fish.

However, if you were sixteen, you definitely didn’t want to be lying about not drinking all the beer that I could clearly tell they’d imbibed on.

“Listen,” I said to the two boys that were obviously under the age of sixteen. In fact, if I had to guess, I’d say they were more along the age of fourteen or fifteen. “How about you call your parents. Have them come up here, and as long as all of those fish are legal, we’ll not worry about it. Just make sure you ride home with them.”

Both boys nodded their heads vigorously.

“Get them,” I ordered.

Twenty minutes later, an obviously upset man and an equally upset mother hurried down the boat ramp to where the boys were still located.

Not even five seconds after seeing them, the woman started yelling.

The blonde kid winced and ducked his head, clearly not liking the fact that his mother was making such a big deal of it all. The father, though, was a different story.

He was watching the redheaded kid with an intensity so great that I almost felt sorry for the kid.

Almost.

“What has my son done?” He asked unhappily.

I relayed to him what I’d done and was just at the part where I was asking their ages when a familiar sounding motorcycle started to creep down the road.

I turned and nodded at Peek to let him know I saw him and turned back to my conversation.

“Your son and his friend decided to get drunk in a boat,” I wanted to laugh as I explained this, but the moment I saw the father turn to the kid, his whole demeanor changed to one of extreme annoyance.

“Thank you. And what kind of…”


APPLE!
” Peek yelled.

My head whipped around and my stomach clenched at the emotion I saw etched into Peek’s haggard face.

“Please make sure they don’t drink and boat anymore, it could be just as detrimental as drinking and driving,” I hurried, backing away and turning to run toward Peek.

My heart was beating fast in my chest as my face remained glued to Peek’s expression.

“What?” I asked, my stomach now rolling.

He shook his head.

“Get in your truck. I’ll drive.”

I studied his face for a few long seconds then nodded, tossing him my keys.

If he didn’t want me to drive, there was a reason.

And I had a feeling I knew exactly the reason for his abrupt arrival.

We were about two minutes into the drive when I finally got the nerve to ask.

“What happened to her?” I cleared my throat.

“Car wreck,” he said. “The officer, Corey Capone, died at the scene. They rushed Kitt to the hospital with a severe head injury and some trauma to her lower body.”

My eyes closed.

“And the baby?” I asked gruffly.

“I don’t know.”

The moment we arrived at the hospital my feet were moving me out of the truck and through the hospital doors that Peek parked about two feet away from.

“Apple!” Ridley caught me by the arm before I could barrel into the ER.

My head turned to study him.

His eyes were red from what looked like crying, and his hair was a fucking mess.

Which, for Ridley, was amazing in and of itself, seeing as he hated for his hair to be even a single strand out of place.

“Tell me,” I demanded, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him to me.

He wrapped his arms around my larger frame and hugged me to him tightly.

“She’s in surgery. Second floor. I’m just waiting on you. Let’s go,” he let me go.

We took the stairs up to the second floor.

I was so numb that I couldn’t feel the way my heart pounded or the way my hands felt like ice.

Ridley walked up to the receptionist’s desk and showed her his badge.

“Harrison County Sheriff. I’m here for Kitt Walker,” he said.

The woman’s eyes went from Ridley’s face to her computer where her fingers quickly started to fly over the keyboard.

“She’s still in surgery. If you would like to wait here I can go check with the nurse…”

“I’m her fiancé. She’s having my baby. If you would do that, that would be good,” I blurted, interrupting her explanation.

The woman smiled softly.

“I’ll go check,” she pushed back from her desk.

The woman went to stand, and I walked around the side of the desk to help her.

She had to be at least ninety, if not older.

But the old woman walked out the door and came back within five minutes.

“You have to stay here,” she pointed at Ridley. “But you can come with me. She’s been asking for you.”

My eyes started to sting as I followed the old woman through the door behind her desk.

I looked back once at Ridley, who looked torn.

I knew he wanted to come.

But he didn’t want to make a big scene.

I gave him one grateful nod before the doors shut behind us.

“Which way?” I grated roughly.

She pointed.

“I’ll take you, dear.” She held my hand
. “Don’t want you getting lost.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to scream at the old woman.

She was walking so goddamned slow that I was tempted to pick her the fuck up and ask her where to take her.

“She just got into surgery. She’s been having seizure after seizure, and they’ve just now gotten those under control enough to sew her up, according to the doctor. The baby was delivered via C-section about five minutes ago,” she recited.

I fought the urge to clench my hands, knowing in this state that I would likely break the old lady’s bones.

“Apple Drew?” A woman asked, startling me.

I looked up and to the side to see a nurse in green scrubs outside a plain white door.

The old lady gave my hand one last squeeze before letting me go.

“Yes, ma’am,” my voice cracked slightly.

She smiled at me.

“We were going to let you come in with her for a few moments, but she’s completely under sedation now so she won’t be able to speak to you,” she said. “The baby, being seven and a half weeks early, will be taken to NICU. You may go with them, but you’ll be asked to change into clean clothes and a gown.”

She eyed the mud on my boots. “And I have some shoe covers we’d like you to put on.”

I nodded my head.

“And Kitt?
The baby? Are they okay?” I asked.

I must’ve sounded ravaged, because she gave me a soft smile.

“Both are okay,” she promised. “The baby is healthy and had a forceful scream before I left her. She should be following me out…”

The door popped open behind her, and I heard the healthy set of lungs come out into the hallway.

My daughter, a red, screaming, covered in white goo, little bundle of pissed off came out of the door being pushed in a clear contraption by another nurse.

“Daddy?” The other nurse asked.

I nodded, my feet frozen to the floor.

“Mommy’s doing okay,” she grinned. “And this little one will likely be just fine, also. We’re taking her to the NICU just in case, though.”

I nodded mutely.

“Ready?” She asked, pushing my baby past the door in the direction of a bank of elevators.

I nodded, but still my feet wouldn’t move.

“She’s going to be just fine.”

The nurse’s words gave me the power to move, but only until my hand could touch the cool white door.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against it, saying a prayer for the first time in over a year.

Don’t leave me. Please fight.

My baby’s whimper turned to a quiet hiccup, and I let my hand drop to my side.

“I’m ready.”

Chapter 17

It’s an ‘I want to fake my death, move to Mexico and live on tequila and tacos’ kind of day.

-Coffee Cup

Apple

“You’re sure?” I asked the nurse.

She nodded.

“She needs the oxygen for now,” she pointed to the mask that was over Emily’s tiny nose. “You saw her chest?”

I nodded.

She’d been breathing fine at first, but over time, her breathing became labored. Her chest had started to cave inwards with the force of her breaths, and the NICU nurses and a doctor had immediately placed her on oxygen.

I studied her face, and her perfect little lips, so happy that all the malformations that the doctors said might be possible while Kitt was on her seizure meds didn’t come to fruition.

She was a perfect little four-pound baby, and I wanted to hold her so badly I could scream.

“When will I get to hold her?” I asked, my finger running along Emily’s chest.

“Maybe tomorrow, once she’s stable,” the nurse answered. “We’ll have to just wait and see. Babies, at this age, are so fragile, and we don’t want to disturb her any more than we have to until we figure out just how healthy this baby is.”

I nodded, understanding that it could be that way.

I’d done a lot of research on my phone and read about a hundred pamphlets while I’d been waiting on them to get her stabilized.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket to see the text from Ridley.

Ridley (10:00 PM): No change
. Still asleep.

My text was a picture of Emily with the oxygen nose shit taking up the entirety of her face.

Ridley’s response made me snort.

Ridley (10:02): Looks like her mama
. Same toes.

“All right, Mr. Apple,” the nurse said sympathetically. “The NICU hours are from eight AM until eight PM. We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” she whispered apologetically.

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