Behind Blue Eyes (24 page)
“Yeah, I do. Everything is coming together as it should. Was I wrong about something coming between us?”
“No, baby, you weren’t.” Jasmine lay on her side, facing him.
“Then trust me, I’m right about this. You’re knocked-up.”
She smiled. “Alright then, what are we having, a boy or a girl?”
Nuke touched her stomach and closed his eyes.
“You’re so goofy!” she giggled.
“Shhh, I’m concentrating.” He took a deep breath, then opened his sensual blue eyes. “It’s a girl, God help me, it’s a girl.” He smiled. “She’s going to look just like you. What’s frightening is she will have me wrapped around her little finger…just like her mother!” He laughed.
“Will she be healthy and happy?” Jasmine asked.
“Yes, she will be healthy and happy. Slightly moody, but that’s to be expected with our DNA flowing through her veins. She’s going to be smart, too, a real bookworm and very protective of her little brother.”
“So you’re seeing way into the future, huh?” Jasmine smiled.
“Yep, they’ll be not quite two years apart.”
“You got names for them already?”
Nuke touched her stomach again. “She says her name is Riley.”
“What about our son, what’s his name?”
Nuke caressed Jasmine’s stomach again. “Riley says that he has to tell you. So we need to be patient” he chuckled.
“Now close your eyes and go to sleep,” Jasmine said. “You need your rest.”
After a moment of silence, she said, “You know what? I believe you. You got a lot going on behind those blue eyes of yours.”
“Are you going to be alright, Jasmine?” He stroked her arm.
Jasmine touched the side of his face. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll be fine.”
“Be honest, baby. You saw someone die right before your eyes. You saw me kill someone. You were tied up and tortured. That’s a lot to deal with, and you shot someone.”
Jasmine didn’t say anything for a moment. “I just shot him in the knees.” She tried to smile. “To be completely honest, I’m kind of scared to close my eyes. I think I’ll see his body. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep again.”
Nuke breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, you’re not a sociopath like me,” he joked. “I can’t really send you somewhere to talk with someone but I’ll do what I can to help you through this. Maybe you should write about it in a fictional way. Do your own MC romance novel. It might help.”
“If I wrote about our life, no one would believe me. Plus, if I made a character based on Pipe, I’m pretty sure some of my readers would be offended.”
Nuke laughed. “Yeah, but they’d love us together, and I’m sexy as hell!”
Jasmine shook her head. “I love you!”
“I love you, too!” Nuke replied with a smile as he closed his eyes. Maybe he would try and sleep after all.
Hit ‘em up
Road Kill heard the jingling of the guard’s keys. It had to be Officer Young. It annoyed the hell out of him how he carried his keys so low that they banged his upper thigh. Who gives a damn if he’s trying to make his presence known? It didn’t mean shit to him.
He stashed his porn magazine underneath his pillow. When he was in segregation, the guards took all of his magazines away. He sat up on the side of the bunk, thinking he could wait until the coast was clear.
Damn guard thought he was the shit just because he used to play for the Indianapolis Colts. That didn’t mean a thing. He was working a crap job where he had no control whatsoever. The inmates ran shit here, not the correctional officers.
Officer Young stopped at his cell door. He stood there for a good minute before he spoke. “What are you doing inmate,” he called out. His deep voice boomed off of the walls.
Road Kill glared at him. “I’m about to yank my dick. You want to suck it for me?”
Officer Young walked into the cell.
Road Kill smirked. “I didn’t think you’d take me up on the offer,” he chuckled.
The guard stopped short of invading his space. He looked cautiously back over his shoulder. When he was satisfied that there was no one watching, he focused his attention back on Road Kill.
“You got enemies, white boy!”
“No shit,” Road Kill said smugly.
“The Aryans don’t even want your ass. That must be scary for you. Who’s going to watch your back?”
“I don’t need anyone to watch my back!” Road Kill fired back.
Officer Young laughed. “Confident, that much I have to say for you. Confident or delusional.”
Road Kill just stared at him. “You got something else you want to say to me?”
Officer Young leaned up against the wall. “Even though you failed to be taken seriously by the Aryans, I’m sure you’re resting well now that your arch rival is out of the picture.”
Road Kill rolled his eyes and nodded. “I’m not afraid of the Hells Vipers or any of their members. That psycho doesn’t fight with honor, but it’s to be expected since he’s a fucking race traitor.”
Officer Young laughed again.
“I know it must bother you. A black man, knowing that one of your women is laying down with a white man?”
“To each his own. People can do whatever they want. Who am I to judge,” Officer Young said as he glanced back over his shoulder.
Road Kill shook his head. “I don’t believe that. People are just too afraid to say what bothers them anymore. Everyone is trying to be politically correct. I’m proud of my race. There’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing wrong with wanting to keep my bloodline pure.”
“Do you know who Charles Drew was?”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Charles Drew was an African-American surgeon who pioneered methods of storing blood plasma for transfusion and organized the first large-scale blood bank in the U.S. So that means every time you’ve been shot, stabbed and need a blood transfusion, you can thank a black man for making sure you got that blood.”
Road Kill just glared at him, then twisted up his face. “That’s bullshit!”
Officer Young said, “It’s a shame you spent your whole life learning the wrong things.”
“I learned what I needed to learn. Now, is there a reason for this little chat, or you just being lazy?”
Officer Young turned to walk away, then stopped as his eyes focused on something that caught his attention out on the tier. “A friend of mine and an enemy of yours has a message for you.”
“They can bring it if they want to. I won’t be the one leaving in a body bag.”
Officer Young motioned for the three African-American men waiting outside the cell. They walked in, blocking Road Kill’s exit. Road Kill stood up and readied himself for the fight of his life.
Officer Young stepped back into the cell. “By the way, Nuke says, ‘
Fuck you
!’”
One percent, one percenter or 1%:
Refers to an outlaw motorcycle club or rider. The term is thought to stem from a reference made several decades ago by the American Motorcycle Association, though the organization denies the claim that it ever said 99 percent of all riders are law-abiding citizens. The 1% is often worn as a diamond-shaped tattoo or patch.
Road name:
The nickname a biker goes by in the motorcycle club.
Church:
Scheduled club meeting by the officers of the club.
Cut:
Often refers to the vest that a member of a motorcycle club wears. The back patch has been ‘cut’ into a traditional three-piece patch (top rocker, bottom rocker and center patch.)
Nomad:
A club member who does not belong to a charter, yet has privileges in all charters.
Old Lady or Ol’lady:
A significant other of a club member, either a wife or girlfriend.
Prospect:
A hopeful for club membership. He rides with the club during a probationary period. A prospect must have a unanimous vote to become a full patch member.
Hang around: A
person who ‘hangs around’ a motorcycle club but who is not or member and has not obtained Prospect status. Being a hang around does not guarantee that a rider will become a Prospect in a club.
Jacket:
Rap sheet aka criminal record.
Strap up:
To have a concealable firearm.
V.F.F.V:
Vipers Forever, Forever Vipers
G.F.V.D:
God Forgives, Vipers Don’t
822:
Another way to refer to Hells Vipers because ‘H’ is the eighth letter of the alphabet and ‘V’ is the 22nd letter of the alphabet. 822 is what loyal supporters of the club are allowed to wear because only club members can have anything with ‘HV’ on it.
F.T.W.:
Fuck the World
Jordan Abbot has been writing stories since she was a small child. She has written paranormal romances, fantasy erotica under several different pen names including Asil. Hells Vipers; You Belong to Me is the first in a series of gritty MC Romance novels.
She loves to write about the anti-hero. You will not find a billionaire in her novels but you will find the loveable bad boy that will probably steal the billionaires’ money and take his woman. In the rare times that she isn’t writing from her home in Indiana that she shares with her husband and two cats, she likes listening to classic rock, watching movies and British Television.
Visit her website here:
http://www.pinterest.com/lcw26/
https://twitter.com/Psychophrenia26
https://www.facebook.com/jordan.abbott.50999
Visit her blog here:
http://jordanabbott822hv.blogspot.com/
Email
Other books by Jordan Abbott:
You Belong To Me: Hells Vipers, Book One
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