It was deserted and peaceful. We parked near an old wooden framed swing set that sat next to a small trickle of a branch behind it and a small pavilion in front of it. We dismounted, and Houston led me by the hand to a small pavilion. He sat down on top of a picnic table, resting his feet on the seat and pulled me wordlessly into his lap.
He held me tight and we kissed until I could feel my lungs ready to burst. When he broke the kiss, I gasped for air and his lips found the base of my throat. I twisted in his lap, carefully maneuvering myself until I had my legs wrapped around his waist and my feet resting on the table behind him.
As we kissed he wrapped my hair in his fists. Tugging gently and demandingly of me as I tilted back my head and felt his tongue trace up and down my throat as I groaned into him. Houston gripped me by the waist, stood and then carefully lie me back on the tabletop, our connection never breaking as he did so.
I was ready and so willing. I felt him thicken and press against me and I attempted to tug at his cut to strip him of his clothes, here in the wide open of a public park. But Houston stepped away.
“You only doubt this when you have time to think,” Houston stated as he shoved his fingers threw his hair and sat back down next to me on the table top.
“And you wanted me thinking remember? It was you that hadn’t wanted this to happen in the first place.”
“I always wanted this to happen… but I always knew it shouldn’t. There is a big difference Half-Pint. We decided, one night of the what-if’s.”
“So, it would hurt just that much more when you left.”
“So, we wouldn’t have the regret of not being together while we had the chance.”
I shook my head and reached for the cigarette pack he had sat down next to him as he lit his own. Houston slapped my hand away. “It’s a disgusting habit I wish I had never started.”
“Well, that just seems fair. You are allowed all the vices in the world to crutch on when the going gets uncomfortable and I’m supposed to just deal?”
“Yes.”
The man was so infuriating. He drove me mad in every sense. The wise thing would be to catch the first bus out of town, back to Laredo. The wise thing would have been to never leave Laredo. . . not even to go to Amarillo.
“Aunt Kristy said the club house whores were running their mouths?”
“Club house whores, or as you call them your ex-girlfriends?”
“They were never my girlfriend. None of them. I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“We’ll add that to the list of insane things about you and how that you are almost thirty and never had a relationship that amounted to shit. But for now, just how many of them have you fucked?” I didn’t really want the answer, but I apparently liked the pain I knew it would cause. The repulsion that grew in me towards the most attractive man I had ever laid eyes on.
“More than a few, not all. And yes, I’ve had sex with them. I’ve done perverse and flat out dirty things with them. I’ve taken them to my bed, and not just one at a time either. I’ve been that sexual monster you think of me. Why not? I was single I was bored. They couldn’t hold my interest long enough to matter. I didn’t bring them home to meet the family!”
“Don’t act like I’m any different from them!” I said as my stomach turned and twisted. I stormed away from him, but he grabbed me spinning me back around and held on tight.
“You know you are. You, Amelia Susanne Lorbosh, they have nothing on. You’re a million miles above them to a level that, I don’t even deserve to be the man trying to bed you. What’s between us, it’s different. It might not be the kind of thing that ends in happily ever after, but it’s different. Trust me,” Houston’s eyes searched mine. In that moment I hated what I saw. He was begging me to believe him and after everything I saw today I wondered if anything I knew to be about him was true.
No matter what he said, no matter what he did, I would always wonder where I stood with him. What I could trust. Houston Callaghan with my life, that I could put in his hands with no doubts. But my body? Questionable. My heart and soul? Only if I was ignorant.
“I don’t need any of your lines Callaghan. But we do need to go. Your family will be looking for you at the clubhouse. I don’t want to be the one to hold you up,” this time when I pulled away Houston let me go. I put on my helmet while he straightened the bike and this time when I climbed on behind him, I gripped the side grips near my seat instead of holding tight to him.
***
We pulled in the lot and I attempted to scurry away from Houston the second the bike’s engine was cut, not that I knew where in the world I would go while I was here. But as always, I wasn’t free to walk away from him until he decided I could. I had gotten about two steps away when his hand reached out and grabbed me by the back of the shirt and reeled me in.
“Everyone’s staring let’s not make a scene,” I told him frustrated and on the verge of furious.
“No, let’s. No matter how angry you are with me, no matter how we stand, if you are on Bastard territory or near any of these bikers, you belong to me, got it?” he barked the order in my ear.
“Worried I might jump on the back of some other guys bike?”
“I couldn’t strip him of his patch, but I would strip him of his ability to ever ride a bike again and I’m not sure you would want that on your conscious. But I’m worried that drunk men do dumbass shit and that some of these less upheld women that run with the Bastards can be vicious bitches. Marking you as mine keeps you safe. Anyone has any questions at all, gives you any shit, you tell them you belong to me.
“I love your brother to death but being his little sister doesn’t pull as much weight as being my old lady. You have status and protection being mine. I ask that you don’t embarrass me by taking up publicly with another man, but other than that you are free to do as you please. If you want to go home I’ll rent you a car, get you out of town first thing tomorrow and see you late on Sunday when I get back to the ranch,” Houston had his fingers laced behind my head cradling my neck.
“You would do that for me?”
“Honey you know I would. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to and that includes staying here with me,” the last two weeks I had tried to learn to read Houston. And while I was so appalled by what he had told me at the park, by his crassness, by everything I wanted to believe was a line. But everything he said now, I believed without question.
Even if he didn’t want me, even if I was just another conquest, I was a conquest he respected. Besides, it was me that had pushed the issue. Pushed him to want to be with me every chance I got. I had wanted this all until twenty minutes ago. Hell, I stupidly wanted it even now.
Houston was waiting for my answer.
“I want to stay. I want to see this hoopla of a wedding you all are putting on. I still want to see you in that tuxedo too,” I smiled softly at him and I could feel the eyes of all the bikers.
“You belong to me Amelia,” Houston dipped his head, closing the nearly ten-inch gap between us the best he could. “Say it Half-Pint, I want to hear you say it.”
My heart thundered in my chest. I was pissed at him, so why was something as simple at this make me so flustered? “I belong to you, Houston Callaghan, President of the Nomad chapter of The Devil’s Bastards MC. I’m your old lady.”
“And you will be respected as such,” he said and brought his lips to mine, slipping his tongue inside for just a moment. He ran his thumb over my cheek as he withdrew.
“I will be respected as such,” I repeated breathlessly, eyes still closed, trying hard to remember why I picked a fight with him. Yes, the string of ex-lovers, club whores. I wasn’t innocent, there had been men before he came into my life. Not as many and surely not as exciting of lovers, but still, I had known he was no Saint.
I heard a loud sarcastic laugh come from the crowd of onlookers. Tasha… now I remembered.
I turned away from Houston and headed inside for food. The crowds pa
rted for me as they had for Kristy and Stella and other respected women. They stared at me, a few of the men made lewd comments, but I carried my head high.
Once inside, I was directed to Destiny and Anastasia. Apparently, Houston’s sister had requested I be ushered to her the minute we arrived. The bride and maid-of-honor were in a back room I heard referred to as “the church”. Their sacred sanctuary where Sweetwater’s club business was held.
Destiny was still dressed in the dark jeans she had worn at her rehearsal and the dark flowing tank top. Her cut now sat on her shoulders and she sat at the head of the table, photo albums stretched in front of her, cigar in her mouth, whiskey tumbler in front of her. Anastasia sat with her, they were chatting softly when I arrived.
“Come in. Take a seat,” Destiny motioned to the free chair next to her on her right. “Fabio usually sits here, it’s the VP’s spot, but I’d like you to grace it tonight in an unofficial position.”
I didn’t know what to say of the honor, so I just sat quietly. “Cigar? Whiskey?”
“I’ll take the whiskey yes. I’ve never had a cigar, your brother says I’m not to start smoking,” I answered as Anastasia reached for a tumbler on a tray behind them and filled it with ice from a small bucket before filling it with the amber liquid.
“My brother is pretty damn bossy when he wants to be, runs in the family I suppose. But this is a special occasion. So, it’s there as an offer if you so choose,” Destiny left a cigar and a zippo lighter on the table in front of her. “My brother’s never rode into town with a girl on his bike before, except the time he returned Anastasia into the Bastard fold.”
“People keep telling me that, like I’m supposed to know what to do with the information. Your brother came to help me as a favor. There is something between us, but it’s nothing more than a physical attraction. There can’t be anything more, he has every intention of leaving as soon as we finish up this rustler issues and I have no intention of leaving Homeland,” I confessed. If I wasn’t such a homebody maybe… no, not even then. I scolded myself for even allowing the thought.
“I understand the feeling of leaving. The feeling of never seeing a different solution, a way for things to be. I fell in love with Fabio so long ago I can’t remember when it happened. It was at least a decade before I would even admit it to myself. In a chemistry charged one-night stand at sixteen I gave him my virginity and then convinced myself it meant nothing.
“Instead I went back to my high school beau who had me knocked up and a ring on my finger by eighteen. By the time I was showing, we had separated, and I lost the baby. I ended up running away in a desperate attempt to prove myself. I enlisted, got deployed, and got myself shot to shit overseas. I spent months here in rehab only focusing on being able to ride again, the second I could I fled to Fort Worth.
“I spent seven years away from Sweetwater. Seven years away from Fabio and when I came back home last year it wasn’t in my plans to reconnect like that. The physical attraction was there, it had always been there just under the surface. I wasn’t about to sleep with a patch brother, I wasn’t going to risk my cut over the gossip, and I had no plans to fall in love. In the week before Fabio and I finally fell back together we had both been tangled up in the arms of other people. When I finally ended back up in his bed and confessed he owned my heart the happiness was short lived. Just hours later he took bullets that were meant for me. He nearly died for me before we ever got to be us.
“I did a bunch of things I’m not proud of but would gladly do again to right the wrong that happened to him. I spent days next to him in an ICU bed, praying like I hadn’t in years, knowing that if he just woke up that we would find a way. Sometimes I guess people are just too dumb to realize what’s in front of them until they nearly lose it.”
Destiny flipped through a photo album. “These belong to the club, but since so much of my life was spent here, it’s like any other book of family memories. This here, the Mexican woman and the white as snow Irish man?” she pointed a picture of a young and clearly happy couple. The woman wasn’t much more than a teenager, and the man was maybe a few years older than me.
“That’s my folks. Breanna and Wes Callaghan. She was twenty and he was twenty-four. They were just married, the club was maybe two, three years old,” Destiny paused and flipped a page. “The five founding members. Daddy and Uncle Alec there. The club was their idea, they brought the others in and it grew to something they never thought it would.”
Destiny smiled softly and sadly as she came to another picture several pages in. “That’s the last picture taken of the four of us. There was six years between Austin and me, but we were all so close. He’s the oldest here at twenty-seven, Fabio was twenty-five, Houston twenty-three and I was barely twenty-one. I was three years into my service. It was on my last leave home… the last time I saw Austin alive. He was murdered three weeks later.”
I looked at the picture, it appeared to be taken in this very room. Austin at the head of the table, Houston was now older than Austin had been in this picture, but the two brothers were cut from the same cloth. Austin’s hair was longer, his eyes laughing, his jaw as sharp as Houston’s and as muscular if not more so.
Destiny was on his right tucked in close, Fabio next to her, a bit in front of her like he expected to use his body as a shield to protect her. Houston, he was so much younger looking, the lines he had on his face now weren’t present, he was happy, his smile was carefree. Loosing Austin had destroyed him. The boys all wore Bastards cuts, Destiny didn’t appear to have earned hers yet.
“I lost two brothers when Austin died. Died… I hate that word. It wasn’t some cancer, some accident or old age. He was murdered in cold blood… stolen from us. When it happened, what was left of Houston’s innocence, his peacefulness was destroyed. He went nomad not long after the funeral. I was back on base, incapable of doing anything to stop it. Not that I could have if I was here, only Austin could have pulled him back to us.
“The nomad route is essentially a death sentence for some of us in this life. Tate being nomad, it works for him. He’s seen some shit, done some shit, but he was never in as deep as it what we were born into. Fabio followed Houston to the nomad charter the day I flew back to the Marines, terrified that each call from home would tell me he had gotten himself killed.
“Fabio stayed nomad for a lot longer than he intended to. He followed Houston around until he couldn’t handle it anymore and then came back to Sweetwater. He didn’t change his patch back though until I ended up nearly dead and shipped back to Bethesda. Houston was so far gone… we spent months at a time, never knowing where he was. Never knowing what was going on with him.
“The things he did, the people he pissed off, if he was anyone else the club might have ordered… might have ordered him to be taken care of… permanently. I know that sounds harsh and horrible, but Houston was a hazard to himself and a hazard to his family. To the club. He could have gotten innocent people killed. Last year we lost a patch brother from Fort Worth, I was still patched out of there and when we buried Leto, Houston was forced home. He brought Tate with him and together we found out who caused Leto…” Destiny finally trailed off and got this long-lost look in her eyes. Anastasia wiped a stray tear.
“Houston stayed for a while after we wrapped things up,” Anastasia picked up the storyline. “When he left again things were different. The last year things have been almost normal with him. He’s still a nomad and no one has any belief that he will ever change that. But we aren’t ready to let him go. We worry about Houston because we love him.”
“A year ago, I never dreamed that I would get married. And if I ever figured on something like this, I didn’t expect my brother to show up,” Destiny went back to the albums. She found a picture of Fabio and her. She was sitting on his lap with his arm around her and they both wore their cuts and a beer in their hands. “The week that I patched in Fort Worth. Houston couldn’t bother to show up, but Fabio drove in.”
> “Double D!” a voice called and banged on the wall.
“Vat! Privacy was requested!” she barked back.
“The badge is here!”
“Fuck,” Destiny spat as she stood, downed her whiskey and went out of the double doors.
“Let’s go,” Anastasia order, so I stood up and followed the crew out.
“Are we getting raided?” I asked as we went outside, and Anastasia led me to the front of the pack.
“No. The Badge is Trent Ulrey. He’s Destiny’s high school fiancée. Houston kind of hates him still for a long list of things, it’s probably best if you go to him. He won’t go through you, and you are his old lady now,” Anastasia directed.
Even in the crowd it wasn’t hard to spot Houston. He was on one side of his sister, Fabio on the other. No one with a patch stood in front of them. Just a sheriff’s deputy and a timid and proper looking woman who stood next to the officer.
“Trent,” Destiny said in a voice that told me she was trying to balance both her position and her history with the man.
“Dallas. As usual the department wishes to check in for such a large gathering,” he started, and Houston hissed.
“Of course, they have something to say. Always expect trouble Ulrey or do you try to entice it?” Houston’s voice was a cold I hadn’t heard from him since Dart in Amarillo.
Destiny shot eye daggers at her brother for the comment. Here Houston’s sister out ranked him when it came to matters of the patch. I went to Houston’s side and placed my hand on his arm, I could feel him tense even more if it was possible. My heart was racing, I knew so little of what he was capable of, and while I didn’t think he would go after an officer of the law with more than a hundred witnesses, I felt the anger boil in his veins. Slowly, I placed my other hand on his lower back.
“It’s just protocol Callaghan, it’s been this way long before I got the badge and you got the patch, you know that. Don’t make this personal,” Trent didn’t flinch at Houston and I respected him for that. Of course, sane men would flinch, and sane women would run.
Houston Callaghan: The Devil's Bastards MC Page 13
