Page 47 of Pigeon

“Fuck me,” Pigeon says in a low, guttural growl.

“Oh, fuck me!” shouts a voice from the kitchen.

Jerking my shirt closed, I feel the heat of mortification hit my face. Pigeon bolts out of the chair, Tabitha jumping clear of the commotion as I turn my back and fumble with my shirt buttons.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Pigeon shouts as loud thumping and banging sounds erupt in the kitchen.

“Ouch! Stop that, you demented bastard! Quit it! No, don’t go near my dick! I forgot my fucking phone!”

“Get it and get out. Don’t return,” Pigeon barks, and then more disturbing sounds can be heard, along with more swearing.

I don’t wait around for another chance to embarrass myself. I bolt up the stairs and slam the bedroom door behind me. I walk to the bed and faceplant on it. After a minute of contemplation, I start laughing into the pillow I have my face buried in.

Hearing the door open and close behind me, I try to stop but can’t. The bed depresses next to me, and I feel Pigeon’s gentle hand brushing my hair back.

“Ivy, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Reeves would walk through the door when he did. I, shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, baby. Please,” Pigeon all but begs while misunderstanding the muffled noises I’m making.

Lifting my head, I look at the beautiful face next to mine. His brow is creased, and he’s obviously worried that I’m devastated by flashing my goodies at his friend. When another laugh busts out of me, his face clears before breaking into a relieved smile.

“I never want to meet that man. You’re going to have to kick him out of the brotherhood because there’s no way I can ever face him. Oh my God, Pigeon! I flashed him my best parts!” I holler, somewhat hysterically, before snorting a little, then falling silent.

“You only flashed him two of your best parts. Let’s keep the other ones just between us, though, yeah?”

“If he came up missing suddenly, would anyone notice or care?”

“Probably not,” Pigeon answers with a laugh. “Sorry that happened, but don’t let it deter you from flashing me anything, anytime you feel like it.”

“Like now?” I ask as I roll to my back and letting my shirt fall open again.

“Now works for me,” Pigeon agrees while circling one nipple with a fingertip.

“You asked me to let you play this morning. I did. Is it my turn yet?”

“For future knowledge, if you ask me for anything in that voice and while semi-undressed, your wish will be granted,” Pigeon informs me quietly while still engrossed in watching his fingertip continue the circling.

“Then strip, Pigeon,” I order.

Eyes meeting mine, he grins, both dimples showing before standing and complying with my order. I find out that Pigeon has less patience for playing when he’s not the one doing it. His hands did not stay attached to the headboard like mine did, and he likes to be bossy. Not that I listen well. Using fingers, tongue, and lips, I explore many tats and the skin under them. I taste, lick, and nibble my way down his body before taking his erection in hand and giving it a slow stroke. I swipe my thumb across the head of his cock then suck the drop of liquid off my thumb. That’s when his patience ended, and I smiled into the pillow I was suddenly facing. We both got to play, and the results were earth-shattering.

Chapter 13

Pigeon

On the drive to the ranch, I pull Ivy close and let my fingers play with a few escaped curls. It’s been a week since the Morales family left the clubhouse to go home, and I’ve leaned on Ivy’s strength to get me through it. Not that she knows it, but she’s the reason I’m still standing.

During that week, a lot of decisions had to be made. When Rex explained that the dead girl was like Bella and had been sold by her mom, tempers flared. Things got destroyed, and it took time for men to get their emotions under control. Finding out that no missing person’s report had ever been made, and the mom was now living off the money she received for committing the worst crime a mother could commit, reignited our anger. Unfortunately, it made the decision as to what to do with the child easier. We no longer had to contact a devastated mother and tell her that her child was dead.

Vex volunteered a secluded spot on his land for her burial site. We named her Angel, placed her in the beautiful wooden box Trigger made for her along with a doll that resembled her that Taja provided, and had a quiet burial. We marked her grave with a large, odd-shaped rock, and she will not be forgotten. Not by any man here and not by the women who came together to lovingly wash and redress her in a cute, fluffy dress. She was loved, but it came too late. Axel and I stood shoulder to shoulder, jaws tight, while Petey said some words and a few Morales brothers pushed the dirt over her new resting place. Not really surprising, the women that helped her are holding strong. They couldn’t save her either, but they gave her what they could.

With Petey and Trudy’s consent and under their watchful eye, Bella came to the clubhouse. She spoke quietly with the victims about her experience and how she’s healed from that. She listened, gave advice, and did amazing at getting through to them. Bella stayed strong, eyes dry, and offered support and understanding to those who were in desperate need of some. During this, Pooh paced outside the clubhouse, worry and concern contorting his face. I joined him, expecting him to snap, but he didn’t. When Bella walked out, Pooh pulled her tight and held on. With shaking hands, Bella hugged him back before telling both of us that she was fine.

“I think I needed that. Not just to help them, but for myself too. Talking about it makes it easier to deal with. Knowing that others have went through similar things helps me get rid of the feeling of being alone.”

“You’re never alone, Bella. Never,” Pooh reminds her as he finally releases her.

After Bella walks off, Pooh’s whole body relaxes, and he starts to breathe normally again. I believe Bella’s words to the victims and to us has helped Pooh just as much as her and them. Bella has calmed Pooh’s mind and soul, just like Ivy does for me.

The victims of the trafficking were mostly in the foster care system or living on the streets. The Morales family was overwhelmed in the beginning, having rescued way more than expected, but they rallied quickly. None of the street kids will be returning to that way of life. They’ll be going home with the family that did so much to save them. They’ll be accepted as family and treated as they should have been all along. As valued human beings. Arrangements for the others completed, additional cars rented, the Morales family pulled out of the compound. The last van in their convoy contained the battered but mostly alive bodies of the men involved in the transporting. We didn’t ask what their future held because none of us cared to know. The look on Jorge and Gael Morales’s faces, the two in charge of the men, spelled it out pretty clearly.

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