Buried Treasure Ch. 46-50

They'd taken my parents, my friends, and my life from me. I wanted them all to suffer and die.

I got into an argument with Greg about it. In his mind, the men who had done this to me were already dead. All he cared about was that I was safe from retaliation. I argued I would never be safe as long as these men were alive; even in prison, they could reach out and hurt me. Rori had told me about the way the Sons treated traitors, and as long as Sean's family existed, they would not stop. In the end, he just ordered more workout and boxing gear. "Either way, you're not strong enough to defend yourself," he said. "I promised you I would teach you, and until it's safe, that's what I will do."

"FINE," I'd told him before turning and sitting in the dining room chair. He looked at me, his shoulders shrugging. He knew that word meant 'you're wrong but determined to do it anyway, so just do what you want and you'll eventually realize I'm right.'

"I'll be back in an hour. What do you want for dinner?"

"Pizza," I said as I licked my lips. "Sausage and mushroom. I love sausage. I love how it squirts in your mouth when you bite down on a big one." He groaned and walked out the door. I just smiled to myself; the constant flirting was having its desired effect. Soon, he would be my partner, my lover, not just my protector.

I listened as the garage door closed, and I was alone. I figured I'd get my exercise in while he was gone; my gunshot wound was still tender, but I was able to move again. I couldn't twist or bend without my side hurting, but at least I could work arms and legs. I made my way to the kitchen slowly, holding on to the counter or chairs along the way. I grabbed an unopened gallon of orange juice and a gallon of milk out of the fridge.

I'd used weight training for years to prepare my body for both softball and judo, but we didn't have a gym here yet. Holding a gallon in each hand as a substitute for an 8-pound dumbbell, I leaned back against the refrigerator and started ten fly lifts, raising them out to the sides to shoulder level. I was shocked at how weak the bedrest had made me; I used to use 20 pounds and rip off the sets I was struggling with now. My shoulders burned as I raised them to shoulder height with straight arms, held for a count of three, and slowly lowered them. I moved on to the more difficult front lifts, completing five before my side told me that was enough.

I did bicep curls with my elbow resting on the counter, then put the jugs back. I moved into the living room, working my way carefully until I was lying on the carpet on my back. I was only able to do one set of leg lifts, and situps were not happening. I rolled on my injured side and did some side leg raises, then onto my stomach for some rear ones. I was sweating, and the wound was aching now. Pushing up to my hands and knees, I used the furniture as I slowly stood up.

I stood and did some shallow knee bends, focusing on keeping my back straight, then did a slow set of lunges. I was sore and exhausted when I finished; looking at the clock, it had only been twenty minutes. I was shocked at how much work my body would need to get back in shape. I lowered myself into the recliner and let my body relax as I watched the news.

The Attorney General of California was holding a news conference, a line of Police and Sheriffs behind him. "The events of the last twenty-four hours have been shocking," he said. "A major drug trafficking pipeline has been shut down. Officers from the FBI, assisted by the DEA and local law enforcement, seized over four tons of cocaine, along with significant quantities of controlled substances including methamphetamine, Fentanyl and Oxycontin. This raid was not without its cost. The follow-on raids to the Sons of Tezcatlipoca chapters connected to the smuggling operation met heavy resistance, and many good men were killed or injured in the operations." He read the names of the fallen officers, then the ones who had been injured, as photographs appeared in the corner. "This office will not rest until every member of this violent drug gang is off the streets. To that effect, I have spoken today with the leadership of the Drug Enforcement Agency, Customs and Border Patrol, the FBI, the Justice Department, and Homeland Security. The existing Sons of Tezcatlipoca Task Force in Orlando will be expanded and relocated to Los Angeles. The focus will be on arresting and prosecuting, to the full extent of the law, all members tied to these acts."

The questions were more interesting. "What led to the raid on the warehouse last night?"

"The Drug Enforcement Agency received credible information from an informant within the Sons of a shipment traveling through the Oakland harbor. As you can see, the tip was accurate."

"What about the raids on the Clubhouses? The search warrant has not been made public. What are you hiding?"

He looked offscreen. "We are not hiding anything. We are dealing with a very fluid situation, with new information coming in as we process the crime scenes and interview witnesses and prisoners. What I can say is that the warrant was the result of credible information provided by a confidential informant, and was sufficient to tie the entire Club to the smuggling operation."

"Are you going to RICO the Club?"

"We are going to use every resource at our disposal, including the RICO statutes, to get justice in this case."

I turned the television off and leaned back in the chair. The Percocet I was taking made me drowsy, and I was soon asleep. I woke to the door opening and stood slowly to walk into the kitchen. "Honey, I'm home," he said as he came in with two large pizzas in hand.

"Smells great," I said as he set it down. When he turned around, my hands went around his waist. I looked up at him as my hands moved up to his chest. He froze, but I didn't. My hands kept moving until I had them on his face and was pulling him down to mine. Our lips met, and his resistance fell as my lips parted and my tongue darted out to gain entrance. I relaxed into the kiss as his hands fell to my waist, pulling me into him.

It was a great kiss, and I could feel his body reacting to mine. When he pulled back, I could see the desire in his eyes. "We should eat," he said. "If we don't stop, we might not be able to."

"Would that be so bad," I said as I licked my lips.

"You need to eat and take your pill, and your body isn't ready for what would come next." He sat me at the chair and went to pour us each a glass of milk. He sat next to me when we ate, holding hands and touching each other. "What did you do while I was gone?"

"I tried to work out, then took a nap," I said. I told him about what I could and couldn't do.

"It will get better. I bought some basic equipment I'll set up downstairs, and tomorrow we will work together on it."

"I'm tired," I said.

"Let's check your wounds; if they are healed over, you can take a shower." He put the leftover pizza in the fridge and cleared the table while I walked back to the bedroom. The master bedroom had a large glass-enclosed shower, and his first shopping trip included towels and other necessities. I waited for him to come in, and he helped me undress without bending or stretching too much. He pulled off the bandages, nodding in approval as he tossed them in the wastebasket. "I think you'll be fine if we're careful with cleaning them," he said.

"Thank God," I said. He turned on the water and went to leave. "No, stay with me," I said.

Little Greg was already responding, thinking of the last time we were in the shower together. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I need help, and it's nothing you haven't seen before." He went into the bedroom, returning naked with his prosthetic leg off. I was already under the water when he came in, the warm spray on my hair as I faced him. I admired him as he hopped in and closed the door. He was such a good-looking man, with a broad chest and shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. He leaned against the wall of the shower as he did my hair. When done, he used a soft cloth to clean the adhesive residue and dried blood from and around the scarred skin of the bullet hole there. He continued down to get my legs. "I need to shave, I feel like a Yeti," I said.

"Maybe tomorrow we take a bath, and I do that for you?"

I laughed. "Have you ever shaved a woman's legs?"

"Can't be that hard."

I reached down and grabbed his stiff member. "Oh, yes, it can."

"Funny. Let me finish; it's not a good idea to mess around in a shower like this with three legs between us." I let him wash my front, then I stepped out and started drying my hair while he finished up. When I was ready, he took my hand, and we went across to the bed.

"Stand on the bed, Greg."

"Why?"

"Because I can't bend over and give you the blowjob you're getting."

"What?"

"Put your leg on and stand on the bed. It's the only way I can do this without hurting myself." He sat down and pulled his artificial leg over, putting on a fresh sock over the stump and standing up in it. He climbed onto the bed, holding one of the beams across the ceiling for support. "Perfect," I said as I walked in front of him.

Taking the base of his hard cock in my hand, I stuck my tongue out and ran it around the wide head. He sucked his breath in as I moved my tongue around, then held it up and licked a line from his balls to the tip. "Heather..." I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around the first couple inches, sucking hard as my tongue swirled. "Oh..."

I liked this position more than the other ones I'd tried; it was far better than the front seat of a car, or on my knees in front of a chair. His cock was long and thick, twice the size of the boys I'd played with before. It was a man's cock, and it was all mine. I took more in until it hit the back of my throat, and I still hadn't put lips to my hand at the base. I gagged a little and backed off, soon finding a rhythm.

The constant teasing must have left him with a short fuse because I felt him starting to shake and his cock swelled in my mouth. "I'm going to cum, baby," he said.

I looked up at him, smiling around him as my hands held onto his hips. He tried to pull back, but I wouldn't let him. I watched as his head fell back and he started to shoot his load into my mouth. It was thick and salty, and there was so much of it! I had to swallow quickly to keep up. I counted five shots before it stopped, and I let him go. "Was I good," I asked as he dropped down onto the bed.

"You were amazing."

"It's the first time I let anyone cum in my mouth. I think I like it," I said.

"I loved it." He stood up and turned down the covers, helping me lay down in bed. "Thank you."

I relaxed back, and he went to the dresser for his underwear. "What are you doing?"

"You need to sleep, and I need to unload the car and set everything up downstairs," he said.

"I need you first." I moved my hand down to my sex, my finger trailing through the slickness. He'd gotten me hot, and I wasn't going to sleep until I was satisfied.

"Heather..."

"Make love to me."

He climbed up over me on the bed as I widened my legs for him. I pulled him down into a kiss, my erect nipples rubbing against his chest hair as he moved. It felt amazing, and I wanted him so bad. I could feel his dangling cock dragging across my hip and stomach as he moved. "You aren't ready for me yet," he said. "I could hurt you."

"I need you, Greg!"

He looked at me and made a decision. "Just relax, I'll take care of you." He started to move down my body, kissing my jaw and my neck. He spent a lot of time kissing and sucking on my neck where it met my shoulder.

"You're giving me a hickey?"

"Just marking my territory, baby." I forgot about it as his mouth and hands moved down to my chest; he cupped my tits as he sucked on first one, then the other. It felt amazing, and the tingles shot pleasure right to my clit. I tried to push one towards him, letting out a groan when I felt the twinge from my bullet wound. "Lie still or I'll stop," he warned.

I relaxed back into the bed and just closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of being loved by this man. His hands stayed where they were as his kisses moved down my flat stomach until I could feel his breath across my labia. "Greg, please," I begged when he didn't get closer.

"Just relax and let me take care of you." His hands moved down as he settled between my legs, and I moaned in pleasure as his tongue finally started to lick at my core. It wasn't like the boy in high school I lost my virginity to, all rushed and clumsy, ending before I even got going. I'd had sex with a few others since, all outside the oppressive supervision of my parents and the Club, but none had the patience and the love that Greg showed me over the next twenty minutes.

What he did was amazing. He teased, he licked, he kissed up and down my thighs and all around, slowly building my arousal to a fever. When I couldn't take any more and begged him to finish, he nodded and told me to relax as much as I could. I held his head in my hands as his talented tongue plundered my depths, then took long licks up and around my swollen clit before plunging in again. His tongue pulled away and was replaced by two fingers. He started to rub me with a "come here" motion inside me. Whatever he was doing, it felt amazing, and I started panting as the orgasm built and built.

Then he sucked my clit into his mouth hard and started flicking it back and forth with his tongue, and I exploded.

"GREGGGGG!" I came so hard I saw stars, and my legs squeezed around his neck as it wracked through my body. My body was tingling, and the pleasure blacked out everything else.

When it was over, the pain returned. "Owww..." I said as my hand moved to my side.

"Shit," he said as he got up on his hands and knees. "I knew this was a bad idea. I should have waited."

I lay back to recover my breath; the pain was already fading. "Don't," I said. "That was amazing. No one has ever made me feel so loved before." I felt like that Far Side cartoon with the 'Boneless Chicken Ranch;' my whole body felt relaxed and satisfied.

"You should sleep," he said. "I have a whole bunch of stuff to unload and set up."

I didn't want him to leave me, not when I felt closer to him than ever before. "Stay with me? Until I'm asleep?"

He took off his leg again. Pulling the covers further down, he crawled into the middle of the bed before covering us both. I rolled carefully onto my side, laying my head on his chest as my hand moved across his stomach.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I should have known a screaming orgasm could affect your healing," he said with a bit of guilt in his eyes. "Sleep, my love."

"I love you, Greg." I relaxed into him and was asleep in moments.

Ch. 50

Jesus Correria's POV

Los Angeles Clubhouse, Previous Night

I wanted to kill them all slowly. I wanted their blood in my teeth, to see the light extinguish from their eyes as I finally tore their throats out and let them bleed out into the dirt. Everything had gone to shit since Jose fucked up the killing of Sean Grimes and his family. We'd lost Manilo, his mate and another pair of panthers were missing, and had an entire Chapter worth of men killed in Florida.

Now this.

I watched the late news coverage of the drug raid in Oakland on the television in my office with my father Manuel, the International President of the Sons. My human Vice President and Master at Arms with me. With Manilo dead, I had moved up to take control of the Los Angeles chapter, and Blade moved up to VP. Both men had been with me for decades, and I trusted them more than any other humans. I was the only shifter now in the chapter. "How the FUCK did they find out about this?"

"I don't know, Pres," Loco said. "We'll find out," he said. As Master at Arms, Club security was his responsibility.

Blade just nodded. "In the meantime, what is our exposure here? We have to assume that the warehouse and all the men there are compromised."

"We didn't have any of our Chapter members there, that's the Northern pipeline. Denver, Las Vegas, Reno, Portland, and Sacramento would have had men there, and a bunch from the Bay Area chapter. The warehouse is like ours, just a transshipment point. No computers, no records. As long as the men don't talk, the damage should be limited to the Oakland chapter."

"We need to make sure they don't fucking talk then," Manuel said. "Oakland Chapter is taking care of it. They're sanitizing the clubhouse and dispersing until we know what is going on. A Club lawyer will be meeting with the men who've been arrested; she will make sure they understand the deal. If there is anyone we aren't sure of, our jail contacts will take care of them." Members who took the jail time kept receiving their share of Club profits as if they were still working, allowing their families to keep going.

Loco just smiled. "Boss, you know no one is going to talk. They all know what happens to those who betray the Club."

It was a fucking brutal punishment for a reason; not just the traitor, but everyone in their family and anyone they loved. It didn't happen often, but we made sure members witnessed it live or on video when it did.

Manuel leaned forward. "I want to know why we didn't get any warning on this raid. We spend a fucking FORTUNE on our insiders, and we don't even get a phone call?" He stood up and paced. "The Cartel is going to be asking questions, and I'll need answers. Jesus, get word to our people. I want to know the basis for the warrant so we can plug the leak right fucking now. If we don't handle it soon, the Cartel will handle it for us. I don't have to tell you what that means."

I nodded. "I'll take care of that." I'd get our contacts in the US Attorney's office on it. "The next question is how we handle Manilo's death. The last communication I got from him was a request for background checks on Chase Nygaard and Rori King. Since he's dead in an orange grove in Florida, and my cousin, his wife, and Manilo's wife are all missing, there are a lot of questions to answer. The last call from any of their cell phones came from Two Harbors, Minnesota, north of Duluth."

"Chase Nygaard? The one who spoke at the memorial service before Manilo did?" Blade shook his head.

"Yes." I switched to mental communications. "Dad, we confirmed three men killed in Orlando died of dog bites. He thought the were werewolves and went to the service to confirm."

"Jose wouldn't have been taken down easily by humans, it makes sense."

I handed copies of the background checks to Loco. "The cops think we took Harleigh Ryder and killed her, but we know better. She was taken from the hospital by the Club and hidden somewhere, and Rori King's address is outside Two Harbors."

"You want me to pay them a visit," Loco said as he looked them over.

"You and a dozen good men," I said. "I want this done quietly. Take some vehicles and drive there, it's going to be too hot for us to fly soon. Scout out their home and wait for the right time. If you see Harleigh, bring her back to me. If you can't do that, kill her."

"Got it," he said. "I'll go choose a few guys to bring with, maybe a prospect or two to drive."

"Loco?" He looked back at me. "If you don't see Harleigh, take Rori or her babies. Make her tell you where she is, or hold them and Chase will give her up. They aren't blood to Harleigh, so they won't sacrifice their family to keep her alive. When you have the information, kill Chase and Rori and make it painful." He smiled at that. "Take off tonight, before the cops decide to pay us a visit."

"I'm on my way," he said as he got up and left.