Have I had a period at all since I got back from the mafia compound? No.
Wow.
Things have been so hectic, so crazy, that I never even gave it much thought. Besides, stress can cause a missed period, so even if I had taken note, it might not have been an immediate red flag. I definitely remember getting my period when I was with the mafia, however. Grey had to request tampons be brought to our room. A servant delivered them with Ivan Wolfe trailing behind.
Gross.
I make a huge red X on the calendar, marking off my wedding day. Well, my first wedding day, the one to Grey.
Was that really only six weeks ago? It feels like years have passed.
I make a few more marks, coloring in the spots where I had sex with Grainger again, with Crown, with Sin. They’re all so close together that my mouth twitches. The only way I’ll be able to figure out who the father is would be to do a DNA test. But I’m not doing that. If they don’t like it, fuck them. I don’t care.
At least I figure that I’m about … eight weeks pregnant. Shit.
Seems weird, I know, but the first two weeks of pregnancy, you’re not even pregnant at all. Doctors generally ‘backdate’ a pregnancy to the first day of a woman’s last period. If I wanted to get an abortion, I’d take a pill and that would be it. Rather, it would be two pills forty-eight hours apart followed by a heavy period.
I stick the stylus back into my phone and lean back on the sun-warmed deck outside the clubhouse. It’s so smoky out here that it’s actively unpleasant. I’m the only bitch crazy enough to brave the air willingly. There’s actually an air quality warning today strongly encouraging Ashbury, Oregon residents to stay indoors.
It isn’t healthy for me to be out here, but I just needed a minute alone to process.
How do I get an appointment somewhere to get checked out? I wonder, considering our current situation. Just to see Sin and Grainger at the hospital was a whole thing.
A raucous near the front gate draws my attention, and I turn my head to watch as an SUV rumbles up, pausing so that the on-duty guards can check out the occupants before sending it on its way.
The SUV parks in the main lot, and the back door opens from the inside.
Out steps Sin, his blue hair catching the strange light and making it look almost purple, the color it was the night we first had sex. I sucked his dick right here on this very deck.
As if he can sense me thinking about him, he turns his head and sees me sitting there.
Holy shit. There’s this indescribable zing that passes between us, this excruciating pang of relief and desire. It’s like we’re drawn to one another over and over again, moths to flame. It doesn’t even matter if our wings burn. It doesn’t matter if we turn to so much dust on the wind.
My heart skips a beat and I sit up, crossing my legs in front of me. Sin is able to take maybe one step before he’s surrounded immediately by well-wishers, his brothers clapping him on the back, their distant words impossible to make out but clearly congratulatory in nature.
I stay where I am, watching and waiting. It takes a while, but eventually, he’s able to peel away, and makes his way directly to me.
I stand up, clenching and unclenching my hands in nervousness. Not a normal emotion from me, certainly. But it’s been, what, three days since we’ve seen each other?
“Hey Gidge,” he murmurs, tucking his hands into his front pockets, face resolute and with much better color than the last time I saw it. Some of his usual bronze glow has returned.
“Hey Gidge?” I imitate, and then offer up a little laugh. “That’s all I get?”
I step forward before he can reply, putting my arms around his neck. Sin stiffens up, but I put my lips to his ear and whisper, “relax, Colton” just before my mouth finds his.
There’s always been this strange thing between Sin and me when it comes to kissing. It’s where we connect the hardest, where our souls resonate the loudest. So it was the day he kissed me against a tree at my sister’s funeral. When he broke from years of shunning to kiss me in the kitchen and make me drop my sandwich. To the kiss we shared at the hospital that reorganized the stars in my sky.
He groans with relief against my mouth, dropping his hands to my waist and kissing me back with all the wild furor of a young couple long parted. There’s an urgency there, a need. I press harder against him, encouraging his tongue to seek mine out. His hands slide down my back, feeling me up, taking me in.
“I don’t want this to be a secret,” I whisper when our mouths part and, because my luck is that good, I happen to glance over and find Nellie staring at me. She seems surprised, even though she heard that conversation between me and Crown the other day.
Sin glances her way, but he doesn’t release me; he then puts that sharp mouth of his very near my ear and makes me shiver. “Of course not. I just didn’t want to tongue-fuck your pretty mouth until I was sure you were ready.”
“Gidget, can I talk to you for a minute?” Nellie offers up, but I don’t feel particularly inclined to give Sin up just yet. I lower my arms from his neck, but I don’t move.
“We can talk here,” I reply, even if the grit in the air is starting to get to me.
“I’d rather …” Nellie starts, and then she gives Sin a look. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Colton,” she tells him, and he smiles back at her with a genuine warmth in his eyes. Not surprising. Sin practically grew up here, didn’t he? He was, what, sixteen when he started hanging around the clubhouse?
He’s known Nellie a long, long time.
“You can say whatever you need to say,” he tells her, and even though he looks strong, there’s a bandage on his neck that reminds me to take it easy with him. Not that I won’t ride him hard tonight, just that I’ll be nice about it. Well, niceish.
I return my attention to my mother’s face.
With a sigh, she straightens out her jacket—Cat’s jacket, to be technical about it—and stares the pair of us down.
“Lord knows I’ve never been a saint, and that your father and I had our fun, but you don’t do this sort of thing out in the sunlight.” Nellie lowers her voice and steps closer when a pair of women walk out and pass by the three of us with gossipy sidelong glances. I resist the urge to flip them off and focus on Nellie instead. “You and Beast can make your own arrangements, but they should be private.”
As if her exploits were ever private. But I know what she means. She’s saying, sure, fuck other guys, but do it in the dark, in the clubhouse, during a party with sex and drugs and cigarette smoke and half-dressed groupies everywhere.
It isn’t the sex part of my relationship to these men that bothers her, it’s everything else: the romance, the living together, the family aspect.
“Mom,” I say, because I’ve been practicing that, calling Nellie by her title instead of her name. Every time the word comes out, it hurts a little. But I’m learning to try to heal the hate in my heart. Some of it was real, certainly, but it isn’t serving me anymore. At this point, I need to either eliminate those sorts of people from my life or try to move on. And by eliminate, that could mean simply ceasing communication or … you know, blowing their goddam brains out. Giulia Wolfe, your clock is ticking. “Have you looked around at the world we live in?” I gesture with my left arm toward, well, everything. The fire-tainted sky, the compound overflowing with families and outlaws, the invisible but no less deadly pressure of the Grey Wolfe Mafia. “Life is short. It’s hideous. We find beauty where we can.”
I look back at Sin to find him watching me with eyes that are very truly the color of melancholy. He embodies it with that silver gaze of his, like the moonlight when the sky isn’t cursed.
“I’m your beauty?” he queries, with a cocky, little smile. “I’ve never heard that line before.”
I snort at him and look back at Nellie.
“Beast knows, and he doesn’t care. Let us run our marriage the way we want to.” I’m not entirely sure how this is going to work long-t
erm, but we’ll figure it out. He told me to go for it. Three men only. Three men I could fuck. Three men he trusts with not only his life but also mine.
“You’re going to make a fool out of your husband,” Nellie whispers urgently, as if I should care so much about Beast’s supposed reputation that I commit myself and the three other men I love to living in shadows forever, just for the sake of it.
“I doubt that. What moron in this club would dare call him a fool?” I query, and then I grab Sin’s hand, dragging him away from Nellie even as I know I haven’t heard the end of this.
“Wow,” Sin says finally, pausing just out of hearing distance as I turn back to study him. That nervous feeling that came over me when he first stepped out of the SUV isn’t gone. If anything, it’s amped up a little. I feel anxious. Almost … well, shy isn’t exactly a word in my vocabulary, but something like it. What if it’s Sin’s baby? I wonder, going over different scenarios in my head. It could be, couldn’t it? “Can I just say that I like it when you stand up for me?”
“I will always stand up for you,” I assure him, but even as he reaches for me, I make sure to add, “but I’ll call you out, too. Don’t forget that.”
“Oh, trust me,” he says, pulling me close again and putting his hands on my hips. I tease the bald eagle tattoo on his arm with a fingernail. “You wouldn’t let me forget that if I tried.”
“Let’s go back to the farmhouse,” I suggest, and Sin exhales raggedly.
“Shit, I’d love that,” he whispers, stroking my hair back. “But I’m not sure how useful I’ll be. I’m still pretty sore.”
“I’ll take care of you,” I promise him, glancing over at the white Indian Chieftain parked near the clubhouse steps. It wasn’t there yesterday, so one of the guys must’ve moved it for Sin. “Can you ride?”
“I could ride half-dead, blind, and with a missing arm. Come on.” He moves over to the motorcycle and exhales, running his palm along the side of it. “It’s been too long, my friend,” he murmurs, swinging one leg over and then groaning. “Fuck. Remind me not to do that again.”
Sin pauses for a moment and then glances over at me.
“I’ll be careful holding onto you,” I promise, but he shakes his head, reaching up and ruffling up that gorgeous blue faux-hawk of his. He’s always gotten shit from the other Daybreakers about his hairstyles and colors. I’m glad it hasn’t been enough to break him of his spirit. He did shave that kick-ass purple Mohawk off once, but I guess that was enough of a lesson to tell him to give zero fucks about what other people think.
“It’s not that. I just wanted you to know that if I could let you drive my bike right now, I would.” He gives me one of those crooked smiles that I love so much, and then turns to face the woods. I don’t quite know how to respond to that, but my throat closes up, and I climb on behind him, gingerly putting my arms around his waist until he lets out a bemused snort and reaches down, pressing my hands against the tautness of his lower belly.
My own body responds, and I scoot forward, rubbing against him.
Sin curses at me, his hands squeezing even more tightly around my own.
“You’re going to break my resolve if you keep doing that,” he warns me, and then he kickstarts the engine and off we go.
I think about what he said, about me driving a bike. It’ll never happen within the confines of the club. Never. Because I could change the vice president’s mind maybe. I could change the enforcer’s, the sergeant-at-arms’, the road captain’s. Hell, I could even work with all the local members.
But what about the other thirty-three chapters of Death by Daybreak?
I could, however, leave the compound and go riding with my men on my own. That could happen for me.
It doesn’t occur to me until we’re actually at the house that I forgot to let Crown know that I was leaving. As soon as Sin shuts the engine off, I’m sliding my phone from my pocket.
“Fuck, that felt good,” he breathes, shuddering like a trapped animal just let loose from its cage. He rubs both hands over his face as I smile and turn my phone screen on to see that Crown has taken the initiative and texted me.
Always let your commanding officer know about a change in plans, regardless of how small or inconsequential they seem.
He’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him being right.
I shoot back a quick ‘kk’ which I’m sure annoys the shit out of him, but too bad. I have other things to do right now. I’m up and off the bike before Sin even gathers it together enough to join me.
I study him as he sits there, taking in the farmhouse with a wary sort of look on his face.
“Is Crown really okay with all of us staying here?” he asks absently, turning to look at me.
“Didn’t he say as much to you himself?” I ask, because even though I haven’t been allowed off the compound again—only because it was so urgent was I ever taken at all—but Crown and Beast have been checking in for me. Plus, there’s such a thing as video chat. While we haven’t had much time to talk over the last few days, Sin did call to say good night to me once or twice.
Radio silence from Grainger, unfortunately.
“He did,” Sin admits, almost reluctantly. “But he won’t want us here forever.”
How can we raise children together if not in the same house? I think, but that’s later Gidget’s problem.
“Don’t worry about that right now.” I reach out a hand as his silver eyes drop to take in my palm before lifting up to my face. “We have other issues to focus on.”
Sin accepts my hand, even if he doesn’t need it, and follows me into the house.
It isn’t until I’m inside and passing by the kitchen that I realize that Grey and Sin have never met.
I’m still yanking Sin toward the staircase when he plants his feet and just stops, making me come to an abrupt halt. I glance over my shoulder to see what he’s looking at, and then notice that he and Grey are staring at each other.
“Holy fuck,” Sin says, releasing my hand and stepping into the kitchen. “I mean, I knew you were here, but it’s one thing to be told about it and another to see it.”
“Am I everything you dreamed I would be?” Grey asks, a book open on the table in front of him. It looks old, and it has tiny print, so of course it would be something he’s interested in. Grey loves history and dry, forgotten things.
Sin steps into the room before noticing Reba in her usual spot, Fem curled up on the floor at her feet. Reba, at least, is offered a smile. Feminist grumbles and curls his lip, but Sin ignores him.
“Hey Reba,” Sin says, and she smiles back before flicking her eyes to me. I know she wants to talk about the pregnancy, but I keep skirting the subject; it’s driving her nuts, I’m sure.
I did this once when we were thirteen, when I stole an expensive bra from a boutique, and she tried to subtly bring up for weeks after. I avoided the subject until she exploded, snatched the damn thing from my bedroom floor, and walked it back to the store herself.
I smile at the memory but cover it up with my hand over my mouth.
“Colton,” she greets, but the use of his real name doesn’t bother Sin nearly as much as it does some of the other men.
Sin turns back to Grey again, studying him like he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.
“More … prim than I thought,” Sin says with a small shrug, his eyes darkening slightly. I wonder what he’s thinking about. Me fucking him outside of the cabin to get his keys with the sole purpose of saving this boy in mind? Or is he remembering that glorious wedding dress and how I wore it for Grey?
“Cultured might be the word you’re looking for,” Grey says, letting that odd mix of playboy asshole that he used to be before I met him twist together with this new version of himself. The version, specifically, that believes he can run a sophisticated crime syndicate at age eighteen.
“Prim is exactly the word I was looking for,” Sin adds with a playboy laug
h of his own. “Fuck, you and Gidget would’ve had the worst sex life.” He shakes his head as Reba makes a sound, and then he turns back to me, stalking over to whisper near my ear. “You wouldn’t have been able to get wet for someone like this. Not in a million fucking years. You’re too addicted to the pain, Gidge.”
Grey grits his teeth as I offer up a shrug of semi-apology.
Sin continues past me and then sweeps up the stairs two at a time, like he’s just so goddamn excited to get away from the confines of the hospital that he’s willing to risk reinjuring himself. Alas, as soon as he gets to the top of the stairs, he pauses to take a breath, panting a little as he leans over the newel post.
“Don’t overdo it,” I warn him, standing behind him on the landing and putting a hand to his lower back. My heart aches seeing him in pain, but then he cants a look back at me, a sly expression appearing on his face before he’s turning and gathering me into his arms.
“Gotcha, Gidge,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my neck and sliding his hand down my belly toward the waistband of my jeans. My breath catches, but I don’t stop Sin when he pops the button and slips his fingers beneath my panties.
He finds me wet and wanting for it, so bad that I can’t quite keep a moan back, even though I know Grey and Reba can hear me.
“How the hell was I able to ignore you for two years?” Sin wonders aloud, his gray eyes half-lidded as he drags me against him, stroking along my slick folds as I bite my lower lip to stifle the noises I so desperately want to make.
“I could ask myself that same question,” I murmur, letting him wrap his left arm around my waist as he slips a single finger in with a sharp hiss, like it’d be impossible to wait to get into the bedroom to see if I’m tight and hot and ready for him. “Once you let yourself give into an obsession, it’s like a dark curse: there is no escape.”
“Your voice …” Sin breathes back at me, pushing a second finger in and drinking in my expression with a devilish one of his own. He brings life to this house in a way that Crown and Beast don’t. They’re both so goddamn serious. This is nice. With Sin, I want to play. With Sin, I feel like I might actually still be eighteen in a few ways that matter. “So husky, so beautiful.”
I Will Revel in Glory Page 16
