I Will Revel in Glory

by Stunich, C. M.

  In order to halt two armies, what do you do? You cut off their fucking heads. Literally, if necessary. So … Giulia. Alvise.

  But also … Cat.

  I exhale and swipe my arm across my face, rubbing away tears and ash.

  “I’m going to check in with the other wives and see what they need from me,” I tell Grainger, and he nods, his gaze distant, like he’s already in the process of doing something else. “I want to make sure Nellie takes Fem with her when she leaves for Seattle.”

  My mother’s being shipped up north with most of the remaining club wives and children to stay with the Seattle chapter of DBD. My dog will go with her.

  “Don’t leave the clubhouse without letting me know,” Cade commands, and off he goes. I head inside to find Nellie, helping her to load bags into SUVs and cars and minivans. All of the remaining families on the compound have decided to take the risk and obey the evacuation order, heading out the way they came.

  Instead of returning home, they’re all leaving town until the fire danger passes.

  Or … consumes the entirety of Ashbury.

  By then, we’ll have moved forward with this war, one way or another.

  I work for several hours, and the business and the chaos help chase away my sadness over Reba. I make myself be happy for her. Happy that she lived. Happy that she’s leaving.

  Eventually, when my nausea starts to get the better of me, I grab some orange juice and head out to the back deck, looking for a quiet place to relax.

  Grainger’s voice is what draws me down the steps and around the corner.

  I don’t expect to see him with a woman. One of the club whores, specifically. One of the prettiest, curviest, bustiest club whores to be exact.

  She steps close to him, reaching out to put her palm on his chest.

  I feel a surge of violence shoot through me, but I stay where I am, watching quietly. Hoping. Choosing to believe in him.

  He doesn’t disappoint. He grabs her wrist and forces her back a step.

  “Don’t touch me,” he says, his voice sharp, edged with a bit of a threat.

  “You can’t possibly be satisfied being her whore, can you?” the girl scoffs, and even though I don’t know her name, I recognize her. She’s been hanging around the clubhouse for years. One of Amber’s friends, I think. “You need a woman to yourself.”

  Cade laughs at that, pushing her back another step with the pressure on her wrist. He leans down and lifts the edge of his lip up in one of his signature sneers.

  “Even one-fourth of her is worth a hundred times the whole of you.” He releases her and she frowns at him. “Get out of here and go find somewhere else to stay for a while. If I were you, I’d bail while I had the chance.”

  He turns to leave when he sees me standing there.

  I walk right up to the pair of them, reach into my back pocket, and pull out the remaining cash that I stole from the guys while they shamelessly let me win at poker; Reba truly didn’t want or need much of it.

  “Here.” I put the money in her palm and meet her eyes. “Catch a ride from one of the other women and go.”

  The girl looks at me like I’m a crazy person, flicking her attention to Cade once more, and then off she goes with a huff, heels clacking across the cement. I turn back to my (possible) baby daddy.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks, and I just smile.

  “She’s alone and scared, Cade. I don’t appreciate her hitting on my man, but I also don’t blame her. Not today.” I lean against the wall beside him and sip my juice as he studies me like an alien creature.

  “You’ll cut a woman’s head off one day and then give a club whore money the next?” he asks, and I sigh.

  “Morality is complicated,” I explain, continuing to drink my OJ. Cade watches me for a minute and then exhales, like he’s made a decision about something.

  “Come with me,” he says, and then he pushes off the wall and heads around to the parking lot, making his way with long, steady strides toward the front gate. I almost have to jog to catch up with him, surprised to see a woman with reddish brown hair and a small boy waiting just inside the compound.

  The woman looks nervous, but also like she’s been here before. Her eyes light up when she sees Cade, and she smiles.

  “Mom,” he says, offering her a small hug and a pat on the back. She kisses his cheek and then pulls back, pushing the boy forward a small step. For a second there, I almost panic. I get that the woman is Cade’s mother, but who is the boy? Please don’t let it be his son. I’m too jealous for that. I’m way too fucking jealous.

  Hypocrite, right? But like, who is this kid who looks to be a carbon copy of Cade Grainger?

  “Say hi to your brother,” she says gently, and the boy moves up to Cade when he squats down, offering him a familiar hug and a shy smile. He can’t be more than maybe … five? Six? I’m not good with guessing kids’ ages.

  Cade stands up and glances back at me, beckoning me forward with a jerk of his chin.

  “Gidget, this is my mother, Raelynn.” He holds out his hand to indicate the woman. She looks to be in her early fifties which means she must’ve had Cade too young. Then again, I’m not in the position to judge anyone. Cade is, what, thirty-two? So if his mother had him when she was my age, she would be fifty on the dot. I look down at the kid. “And this is my little brother, Matthew.”

  “Hi, Matthew,” I say with a slight smile. It must come across more as a feral grimace than anything because the kid shies away and Grainger chuckles.

  “Mom, this is my …” Grainger takes a moment to decide how to describe me; our eyes meet in a clash of heat and understanding. “My old lady.” He turns back to her and then he … smiles. It’s tainted with a healthy dose of fear and worry for what’s to come, but it’s a real, true genuine smile. It makes my heart sing in ways I never could’ve imagined. “We’re expecting a baby.”

  “Oh,” the woman says with another soft half-smile of her own. “Congratulations, Gidget.”

  “Thank you,” I say, tucking my hands into my pockets as Grainger digs into his back pocket and pulls out a faded brown leather wallet. He extracts a huge amount of cash—all hundreds, I think—and passes it over to his mom. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees how much money he’s given her.

  “Take this and get out of town. I don’t have a good feeling about this fire … or anything else.” He reaches up to scratch at the side of his head as he studies her.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you in the hospital,” she says, but he just shakes his head at her.

  “Doesn’t matter.” It does; I can hear it in his voice. “Just take that and leave town for a while, okay? I’ll call you when it’s safe to come back.”

  She nods at that, reaching up to tuck a strand of her mussy hair behind one ear. There’s a timid, almost skittish look about her that’s the exact opposite of her son.

  “Thank you,” she says, lifting up the money and turning to look at me. “Both of you. We appreciate it.” She puts her hand on Matthew’s back as he peers up at me with umber eyes that are disturbingly reminiscent of his older brother. “Stay safe, son.”

  “I will,” Grainger promises her, and then Raelynn and Matthew are being let out of the gate by the on-duty guards. Cade watches them leave, his expression a strange, distant sort of thing. When he turns to me, I find my heart warming up toward the asshole even more.

  “Please tell me that really is your brother and not your son,” I say, and he cocks a brow at me.

  “Fucking really?” he queries, running his fingers through his red-brown hair and messing it up just enough that I can see that hidden tattoo near his hairline again. I want to kiss it so bad that it almost hurts. So … I do. I move forward and put my palms on his chest, rising up on my tiptoes and, when he leans down to kiss me, surprising him by gently putting my lips against his ink and sighing. Cade tightens his arms around me and holds me against him. “He’s my brother, I assure you.�
� He allows me to step back and then sighs heavily. “If he were my son, I sure as hell wouldn’t leave him with Raelynn. My mother’s much better now than she used to be, but she’s no saint.”

  He nods with his chin back in the direction of the clubhouse, and I turn with him, hooking our arms together while we walk. Grainger looks a tad weirded out by that, but he rolls with it anyway.

  “Do you see her often?” I ask, because there was a level of familiarity there, but no closeness.

  “She comes once a month to get money from me. I can’t give her too much at once or she wastes it all.” He gives me a sharp look. “Alcohol or drugs or shopping. Whatever. She’s always addicted to something. It’s just in her personality apparently.” He turns away from me again, working his jaw as he thinks. “I keep my distance from her for obvious reasons.”

  “I see that she isn’t staying in the clubhouse,” I offer up, and he nods.

  “No need. She lives about forty-five minutes south of here. She drove up when they got the level two notice.” Grainger keeps walking, guiding us back in the direction of his bike instead of the clubhouse. I assume he’s taking me home now. It’s starting to get dark anyway. “We barely see each other.”

  “And your dad …?” I start, wondering if he isn’t going to buck at such an intimate conversation and blow me off the way that he always has. But no. And I’m so damn grateful that I could scream. This man knows so much about me and yet, I know so little about him.

  “My dad—not Matthew’s, by the way—was a Daybreaker.”

  I lift both brows at that.

  “Really?” How had I not known that? Of all my men, Cade was the last to join the club. The thing is, he basically stepped into the roll of sergeant-at-arms right off the bat. I never really thought about it—because I didn’t care—but I’d love to know now. Men don’t just walk into the club and take up a roll as an officer.

  “Yep. Right here in Ashbury,” he says, but he doesn’t sound impressed. He stops walking to look at me, removing his arm from mine. “My father knocked my mother up, but he didn’t want her as his old lady. He never even acknowledged me as his son.” He grits his teeth at that and forces a long, slow exhale. “Anyway, he died when I was fourteen. I never got to know him at all. The only thing I knew was that he was in the club.” He shrugs his shoulders and looks past me again, toward the clubhouse. I can see that he’s uncomfortable, but he pushes through it, returning his attention back to my face. “For years, I fucked around, moved around, did whatever the hell I wanted. And then I moved to California and patched-in there. Not sure why since I hated my fucking father. But you know what?” He reaches up to touch the side of my face. “You made it worth it.”

  “Whoa,” I say, blinking back at him in surprise. “Stop talking like that or I’ll be convinced you’re a body snatcher. Cade Grainger doesn’t say things like that.”

  “Why the hell not?” he snaps, grabbing my wrists and pulling me into him. His dark eyes search my face. “We met because of it, didn’t we?”

  “Why did you agree to transfer up here?” I ask, trying to avoid the gleam in his eyes. There’s a primal hunger there that I know we don’t really have time for. Shit, we’re at war. There’s a wildfire burning on our doorstep. Even now, as we stand here together, ash is floating around us in big, fat flakes. It looks like fish food, if I’m being honest. Not quite so funny when you really think about what it is and where it came from though.

  “Because I thought that maybe if I came here, I could understand him better. A man who fathered a child and wanted nothing to do with him.” Grainger yanks me even harder against him, and I can see that we’re going to have to release some of this tension whether we have time for it or not. Those base urges connect us. It’s a way for us to show with our bodies what we’re feeling in our hearts.

  Even for him, my consummate asshole.

  “Do you?” I ask, and Grainger shakes his head.

  “Not at all. Not even a little.” He exhales and then leans down, resting his forehead against mine and making my entire body warm then hot then scalding. I burn for him. I burn so badly that I’m turning to ash, just like the flakes on the wind. “Knowing that you’re pregnant, I’m already too attached to let go. I wouldn’t. I won’t.”

  “What if it’s not yours?” I ask, and he scoffs at me.

  “It’s mine,” he says for the millionth time and then, like a lightbulb going off in the darkness of my skull, I see it. I see it just like I did when he kept saying ‘I hate you’ to me. When he says ‘it’s mine’, what he means is … no matter what.

  “Goddamn it, Grainger,” I snap, and he smiles. It isn’t a nice smile.

  “Get your ass on my bike. Now.” He releases me and stalks off, and I resist the urge to scream as he goes. But I follow him. Of course I do.

  We don’t even make it in the front door before we’re kissing, hands grabbing greedily at one another’s clothes like they’ve committed cardinal sins. We both taste like ash and rainwater, but who cares?

  I stumble on the rug near the front door, but Grainger keeps me upright with his hands on my waist, growling at me as I shrug out of my jacket. Since it belongs to Beast, and I’m trying to be respectful, I hang it on the peg to my right.

  Cade gives me such a dark, disturbing look that goose bumps break out across my skin.

  “Really?” he hisses, biting my lower lip so hard that I cry out. “You hung your jacket up when I’m about to fuck you?”

  “I—” I start, but Cade is just done with me, pushing me back and releasing me at the same time. He slips his cut and shirt off and tosses them to the floor, stalking toward me like a monster who’s just scented his mate.

  I should probably run, or at least make my way into his bedroom. Instead, I find myself backing up and sitting down heavy on the steps of the staircase. We’re all alone now—no Grey, no Reba, no Fem, and all the other guys are working—so the house should feel empty and sad.

  It doesn’t.

  It’s charged.

  Every air molecule in that house is vibrating with the toxic passion between me and Grainger. He descends on me hard and fast, pressing me into the staircase as he tears my shirt off and shoves my bra down so that my swollen, heavy tits fall out of their cups.

  I can already see what this is for both of us: a fear fuck.

  We’re both afraid. Afraid that this could be the last time we have sex with one another. Afraid that the world will be a different place come the end of the day tomorrow.

  Even though it seems silly, almost inane, for us to be fucking right now, it’s imperative.

  Grainger shoves his pants down as he tears mine over my hips, yanking them down and then growling when my boot gets in the way. He chucks it off, pulls the pants over that one leg and leaves them to hang off the other.

  He mounts me right there on the staircase, his fingers digging into my scalp, his mouth eating at mine with frenzied, primal hunger. He’s rutting me against the stairs as I arch my back into him, my bare breasts scraping his naked chest.

  His pecs are so hard that they provide just the right amount of pressure for my nipples, stirring up heat that travels straight down to my core. I’m so wet that there’s this messy slapping sound as Grainger shoves into me with desperation, seeking the end of me, bottoming out as I gasp and hold him to me.

  Please don’t let this be the last time we’re together like this, I pray. Once again, I don’t know who it is that I’m praying to. It doesn’t matter. I send the wish out into the universe, letting the energy of our joined bodies carry the message up into heaven and down into the depths of hell.

  If it reaches the ears of any sort of divine being, I hope they take me up on my plea.

  I’ve had a hard life. I’m going to have a hard life. I only want and need this one thing: this new family that I’m making. My boys, my dog, and my baby. Please, please, please.

  Cade groans as he shoves into me again, spilling his seed with a shudder that tr
avels through his entire body, making him quiver as he collapses on top of me. We stay there for a moment before he’s pulling back and lifting me into my arms.

  “Grainger,” I murmur, nuzzling against him as he lets me cling to his neck, supporting me with one arm as he yanks his jeans up with the other. Once he’s sure they aren’t going to tangle around his ankles, he supports me more fully, carrying me into his bedroom.

  He lays me reverently out on his bed and then takes a moment to stare down at me, watching as I slip my bra off fully and toss it to the floor. My remaining boot is next, my pants and underwear last.

  Then I stay where I am, naked and bare to his eyes and his heart.

  “Oh Gidge,” he grinds out, like he’s in pain. “You’re a blessing for my cursed heart. What did I do to deserve this?” He looks away, swiping at his face with his hand. “I should’ve introduced you to my mom a long time ago. My brother. I should’ve taken you to lunch or some shit and let them see what an amazing woman I had.”

  “Cade,” I whisper, feeling my eyes prick with hot tears. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to cry, and I don’t want to do that right now. Come here.”

  He takes off the rest of his clothes and joins me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me like we’re teenagers or something. We make out as he slips his hand between my legs, driving three fingers into me right off the bat and making me gasp. I bite his neck for luck, leaving a hickey there that’ll last all day tomorrow. It’s a charm, for safety and good health. That’s how I think about it.

  “Why do you pretend you’re such an asshole when you’re really a sweetheart?” I whisper, and he laughs at me. There’s that dangerous, cocky tint to it, like he’s the old Cade, the one I despised with every beat of my heart. I like that, though, the way he can stir me up and twist my emotions around.

  “Listen to me,” he commands, grabbing my chin and making me look at him. “Sweetheart? You’re the only sweetheart in here, mama.” He squeezes my ass and pulls me close to him. “I fucked you in the clubhouse bathroom when you were sixteen; I let you snort coke with me. I took your virginity even though I knew better. Don’t act like I’m a saint; it’ll only get you into trouble.”