by S. Nelson
To me, or to him.
“I’m not,” I whispered when all I wanted to do was shout those two words. Not only did I not want kids, but finding out I was pregnant, then having to deal with everything that happened on top of it, would surely drive me right off the cliff of sanity.
I heard Brick repeatedly drawing breath like he wanted to say something else, but no words ever fell from his lips. Instead, all he could do was stare at me for a few seconds before looking at the ground, only to bounce his attention back and forth. He was unsure, tentative even, which wasn’t something I’d ever seen him be during our short time together.
The longer the silence bloomed between us, the more anxious I became. I needed to forget, even if for a short while, and staring at the mammoth of a man sharing the space with me would do nothing but keep my recent memories close.
“I need you to leave,” I finally said, wiping at my eyes when they flowed over. “I want to be alone.”
He took one step forward, looking more broken than he did seconds ago. “Please… I… I’m so sorry.” Defeat swept over him when I repeated myself, and a moment later, he gave me what I asked for.
I was left alone with my memories, with my uncertainty, with the need to forget these past few days.
But when I touched my cheek and placed my hand to my temple, I realized I’d never be the same person again.
49
When everyone finally arrived back at the cabin, the sun barely peeking over the haziness of the skyline, we all retreated to the backyard, Stone joining us after his wife fixed him up—a clean exit just like mine. We needed to discuss topics which weren’t meant for the ears of anyone outside the club, with the exception of Ford and Owen Massey, of course. If my head had been in the right place, I could’ve genuinely appreciated what they did for us, taking out our rival club with no questions asked except for how they could help.
“What a fuckin’ night.” Jagger’s words were the understatement of the year.
“What about their two remaining charters?” Ace asked. “Even though half of those fucks were drunk or doped up, and the other were so surprised they didn’t have time to defend themselves, I don’t know if I can do this again.”
“We don’t have to worry about the one close to us,” Nash said. “We’ve had minor incidents with them over the years but nothing major. I don’t see them being an issue.”
“And the one in Tucson?” I was gonna add “The one Dutch is from,” but I couldn’t stomach saying his name out loud. It was bad enough I thought it.
“That one was the smallest out of them all. Won’t be any issues there either. The biggest threats in that club are now gone.” Marek’s confidence eased some of my trepidation, and I was sure with time I’d come to relax a bit more.
Most of us either sat in the available chairs surrounding the enormous fire pit, or stood close together, hands shoved in pockets and feet shifting from one to the other.
“Anyone know how Cutter is? Hawke?” Kaden spoke up that time, gripping the back of his neck and squeezing before stretching his shoulders and rolling his head side to side. All of us had been through it, two of our men in a questionable state, a couple of us withstanding minor injuries and the rest looking like they were gonna pass out any minute from exhaustion.
Marek was the one to answer his son. “Cutter’s out of surgery but critical for right now.” He glanced around at the confused looks as to how he obtained that information. “I called his daughter, Kalista, as soon as he was wheeled into surgery. She’s keeping me informed.” Prez looked annoyed he had to clarify. “He’s got two fractured ribs, a collapsed lung and swelling on the brain, but they won’t know what permanent damage there is, if any, until after the swelling comes down.”
I was aware Cutter had a daughter, and even grandkids, but the knowledge didn’t do anything but baffle me. Cutter didn’t seem like a family man to me, but it wasn’t like I knew the guy all that well. He wasn’t known for opening up and sharing much about anything. A man of few words fit him perfectly.
“And Hawke?” Kaden repeated.
Ryder strolled up behind us, standing next to me. Because he didn’t look panicked, I guessed Braylen and the baby were doing okay. “Just got off the phone with Tripp. It doesn’t look good for Hawke. The shot he took to the stomach did a lot of damage. He didn’t go into specifics, but he’s gonna stay at the hospital for a bit. We just gotta hope for the best.”
Hope for the best. What a pointless saying. All that meant was that we had no control whatsoever over what was gonna happen.
“Did anyone contact Edana?” Trigger asked, looking straight at Ryder since he’d been the one to speak to Tripp.
“Yeah, she’s on her way now. Should be here later today.”
A few of us nodded, not knowing what else to say about everything that happened over the past twelve hours. All my anxiety, fear, and anger had calmed but now I was left with a broken heart and enough guilt to choke an elephant. I peeked over at Ryder and he looked almost as downtrodden as I did, but he didn’t only have his daughter to fret about. He had a wife, a son, and an unborn child, three others to steal his worry.
Tag shifted on his feet, grunting when he turned to the side, his face scrunching with a twist of pain.
“You okay?” Kaden asked. “You really should have Addy look at that.”
“Look at what?” Prez moved around Jagger and Ace and was in front of Tag before any of us saw him move.
But it was Kaden who spoke next and not the prospect. “When we chased two of ’em around the back of their club, which was a dilapidated shithole, by the way, another one came around from the side.” Kaden paused for a beat before continuing. “I didn’t see him.” Another pause. “But Tag did, shoving me out of the way. I was kissin’ dirt a second later, but he saved my life.” He clutched Tag’s shoulder, the smile on his face reminiscent of his gratitude that our newest, albeit forced, member was there with him.
“Lift your shirt,” Prez ordered.
“I’m fine.”
“Lift.” Marek wasn’t one to repeat an order, but his tone remained level all the same.
On a huff, Tag raised the bottom of his shirt, the fabric sticking to his skin before separating. And because the material was black, the blood stain wasn’t noticeable. No one would’ve suspected he was injured… until we saw what made him wince.
“What the fuck, prospect?” Stone blurted. “That looks bad.”
Marek blocked my view, but when I moved to the side and stepped closer, I saw what everyone else did. A large hole in his side, directly above the waistband of his jeans.
“Either you got hit twice, in the same damn spot, or that fuckin’ bullet was huge,” Linc added.
“I’m fine,” he reiterated, closing one eye when a jolt of pain traveled through him. “Besides, it’s no worse than what you guys did to me. If I can handle that…” He didn’t complete his sentence, diverting his eyes from Marek and looking at me, then Kaden, anywhere but at the leader of our club.
There were so many things Marek could’ve said, and would’ve given any other situation, but the words that left his mouth shocked all of us.
“You can leave if you want. No restrictions.”
Tag looked confused. Join the club, buddy. “What does that mean? Leave where? Here?”
“The Knights,” Marek clarified, although I believed there was still some confusion, at least for me there was.
“But you said either I joined, or you’d kill me.” Tag’s eyes narrowed, wincing again when he moved.
“I know what I said. It wasn’t that long ago.” His expression was flat yet hardened, looking put out, this conversation something he didn’t want to be involved in. But he was the one who brought it up when he could’ve simply walked away.
“So, you’re tellin’ me I can leave the club and nothin’ will happen to me? What about the money you spent on my mother’s medical bills? Do I have to pay you back for that?” Tag’s skepticis
m was justifiable, and I was as curious as to what Marek would respond as the rest of the men standing around, all eyes bouncing between him and the prospect. Would the offer be clarified or retracted?
“You can leave if you want, no repercussions from anyone, including me, and what’s done is done. No payback.” Marek leaned in close, his tone dipping in warning. “Of any kind… from anyone.” He straightened back up. “Or you can stay in this brotherhood if that’s what you choose.”
The prospect ran his fingers slowly over his jaw, seemingly contemplating the offer, but it wasn’t long before he gave his answer. “You’re right. What’s done is done. And if it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay.”
Marek didn’t so much as blink before he uttered, “Get Addy to stitch you up. I don’t need you dying out of stubbornness.” He jerked his chin at his VP and pointed toward the cabin, his attention back on Tag before they walked away. “Thanks for saving my son.”
Marek offering the prospect an out was unexpected but understandable, given the situation. I was glad he chose to stay with us. He was a good guy who’d proved his worth and loyalty time and again, even though he didn’t have to.
Ford and Owen stood off to the side, allowing the rest of us to discuss a few more club details. Neither of their cousins were present, but they hung around anyway. As we broke apart and headed back toward the house, Linc asked a question, and I had to admit I was curious myself.
“This is quite a place. Thanks again for letting us use it.” He brushed shoulders with Ford. “How did you end up marrying into the Dessoye family anyway?”
Ford huffed. “It’s a long story.”
“It’s not that long,” Owen laughed, knocking into his brother as they walked side by side.
“I guess you’re right.” His brother wiggled his brows and all Ford did was shake his head. Anyone witnessing their interactions could tell they were close. “Walter had some threats against his family, and he hired us to watch over his two daughters. Twins, but they couldn’t’ve been more different if they tried. Anyway, I got saddled with the spoiled, bratty one and Owen here got assigned to the nice one.” The older brother ran his hand over the top of his dark hair, a smile flickering over his mouth a second later. “In the end, it all worked out.”
“Because you married them?” Linc asked, intrigued with the story, and I was betting it had everything to do with the fact it was moons away from the debacle that was our current life.
“Because we married them,” Owen agreed, smiling wide and with a glint in his eye.
In that moment, I was jealous of them both. They got to go back to their wives, to their normal life away from the fallout of all of this.
Yes, the threat was gone, but I had no idea what was gonna happen between me and Zoe, and I felt helpless because I didn’t think there was ever going to be a way for her to forgive me.
50
The two weeks that followed had me drowning in my own hell. We were all able to return home, but when I tried to convince Zoe to come back with me, to let me take care of her like she did for me, she refused. She could barely look at me, let alone live with me, even if it was only temporary. She chose to stay with Braylen and her dad. They were the ones to update me on her status because she even refused my calls and had them turn me away every time I stopped by to see her.
Morgan was still in town for her job, staying at my house, but because I spent the majority of my time at the clubhouse perched on a stool at the bar, welcoming the numbness that accompanied lots and lots of alcohol, she pretty much had the place to herself.
The gates had been repaired several days after the explosion. Marek knew a guy who knew a guy, getting the job done quickly. The reinstated security helped erase any remaining unease any of us had about coming back here to meet or just hang out.
Flings and Indulge had reopened as well as Transform and Kena and Braylen’s family restaurant.
Cutter had been released from the hospital a couple days ago, the doctors telling him several times he was lucky to still be alive, having been in such close radius to the blast. As far as I knew, his daughter was staying with him until he was fully back on his feet, which knowing the stubborn ol’ guy, should be any day now.
Hawke ended up pulling through but hadn’t been released yet. The doctors wanted to keep him a while longer because he kept running into complications. First, it was an infection near the site of the stomach wound, and then he got MRSA, which ended up causing him to have pneumonia. Poor guy was battling through, but at least he was alive to do so. His woman, Edana, had been staying at the hospital night and day, and even though I hadn’t met her, I’d heard many stories about her, and what she and Hawke had gone through. Oddly, even for as crazy as their story seemed to be, especially years back, they gave me hope. If they could make it through, maybe so could Zoe and I.
Now all she had to do was agree to see me.
“You glued to this seat now?” Tag walked up behind me and slapped me on the back. I was an irritable motherfucker these days, most of the guys keeping their distance, so for the prospect to actively seek me out meant he had something on his mind. And I knew exactly what it was, or should I say who it was.
“I don’t have anywhere else to be,” I grumped, finishing off my umpteenth beer. My tongue and lips were numbing up nicely. Only six more or so to go and I’d be lost to dreamland.
My official role in the club was the enforcer, taking care of any physical disputes whenever necessary, leaving the issue of making sure everyone abided by the club laws and rules up to Ryder, who was our sergeant-at-arms. But recently, I wasn’t of any use to anyone in my sorry state. I was certain Marek wasn’t gonna allow me to wallow that much longer, however, so I’d soak up my downtime for as long as possible.
He took the seat next to me and tapped the top of the bar with his knuckles. Trigger was in the kitchen, but I didn’t think Tag came in here for a drink. It was only one in the afternoon and he was still busy in the garage with Kaden.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he started, swiveling in his chair to face me, even though I kept looking straight ahead. “I was wondering if… because you probably know that I… I know it’s against code and all that but… I really think—”
“For fuck’s sake, man. Spit it out!” I shouted, pressing my fingers to my temple to stop the sudden pounding. It was possible I was drunker than I thought, glancing over at the array of beer bottles littering the corner of the bar.
“I really like Morgan and I want to know if you’re gonna kill me if we’re together?” His words were rushed, and had I not been drowning in my sour mood, I probably would’ve laughed, or decked him. One of the two. I didn’t say anything for a bit, too busy popping the top off my next drink and glugging down half of the contents, wiping my mouth when some of it didn’t make it in. “Well?”
“Well what?” The time in between blinks was getting longer and longer.
“Are you gonna kill me if I date your cousin?”
Swiveling slowly in my seat so we were face to face, I slammed my hand down on the bar and he flinched. I was fully aware of how intimidating I could be when I wanted, especially to someone who didn’t know me that well. But I liked the guy and I didn’t want to scare him, even if he was talking about fucking my baby cousin. Okay, he didn’t use those words, but I knew exactly what he meant.
“You already sleep with her?”
“Matty!” I should’ve known she’d be here for this little powwow. Morgan sidled up next to Tag, glaring at me, and looking like she wanted to slap me. Then her expression softened, and she moved closer to me. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” She was on me before I could gather words to tell her not to worry about me. Her hug was fierce, and because my balance wasn’t on point, I almost fell off the damn seat.
“Matty?” Tag looked thoroughly confused, but I wasn’t about to get into why Morgan called me that.
“Are you gonna answer me?” I looked at the pros
pect and ignored Morgan but that didn’t stop her from jabbering on.
“No, he’s not, because that’s none of your business. I told him we don’t need your permission, but he insisted on asking you anyway. So stop being a jerk.”
“I wanna talk to him alone.” More beer dribbled down the side of my mouth.
“You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“So, how is he gonna have a real conversation with you when you’re like this?” she asked, and I wondered the same thing myself. Sliding the bottle away from me, but close enough I could easily reach it when we were done here, I jerked my head to the side, indicating I wanted her to leave us alone.
“It’s okay. Just wait over there for me.” I saw him raise his arm as if to reach for her hand, but he dropped it when he noticed me looking.
“Fine.” Morgan’s eyes became tiny slits right before she walked away.
“Before you tell me no, I just wanna say that I really like her.” He emphasized the really. “In fact, I haven’t felt like this before, about anyone. She’s not some easy conquest to me.” I growled and he held up his hands in front of him. “Not the right choice of words, sorry.”
“What are you gonna do if I say no?” My words came out slurred, but he understood every one.
“I probably shouldn’t answer that.”
“No, you probably shouldn’t.” A part of me wanted to tell him there was no fucking way I’d give my blessing for the two of them to be together, but I actually thought Tag was a good guy. After what this club did to him, first by torturing him and slicing him up, then by forcing him to choose to either be a prospect or be killed, then bringing him into the middle of a raging war with the Savage Reapers, to where he ended up getting shot when he saved Kaden, the guy deserved to be happy. And if Morgan made him happy, then who was I to stand in the way? Besides, they were grown. I couldn’t realistically stop them. And I had to admit that I did appreciate him at least coming to me about it because I didn’t give Ryder the same courtesy.
