by Nicole Fox
In the hotel, I thought over a lot of things, after tucking a very tired and still sleeping Rose into her own bed. Namely, that things would need to change. Whoever the fuck took over the Jackals next—I needed to at least be on decent terms with them. Real, decent terms. I needed for all this to never happen again.
I started putting together a plan.
Misha wasn’t going to be discharged for at least two days. I had Trixie come over and watch her at the hotel. Rose wanted to come with me.
“Can I go? Please? I don’t want you to go.”
I knelt before her looking her in the eye.“Why is that, honey? You know I’ll be back.”
“I don’t want them to hurt you like they hurt Mama.”
I pat her head, trying to comfort.
“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay, all right. I won’t let anything happen to me, all right? You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your papa, and papas watch out for themselves so they can watch out for mamas and their little girls, right?”
Her eyes widened a little, and flooded up with tears. It jerked at my heart, but I simply hugged her, pulling her close to me and I snuggled on her.
“I’ll be back, okay? Just be good for Ms. Trixie.”
“O-okay. Papa.”
I smiled, liking the sound of it.
Being in Jackal country, it didn’t take long to get to where I needed to go. Back to the compound. Didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to ride on over there again, but I did anyway. Unlike the first time, however, I didn’t get off my bike once I got there; instead, I rode up to the front. There were Jackals all out front in the compound. Oddly enough, they didn’t look like they were about to move against me. They stood up and eyed me warily.
One of them walked up to me as I approached.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk,” I said.
“Y’all did a good amount of talking last night,” chimed in someone.
“Shut up, Rick,” the one who’d approached me said. “Lot of fucked up shit happened in the last couple of days. Now isn’t the time.” He looked to me. “You want to talk, talk.”
I raised a brow. “You in charge here?”
“After all the shit that happened? You bet your ass.”
“What about Rigger’s goons?”
“Gone.”
Well, that was interesting.
“So, you’re in charge?” I wanted to clarify, beyond a doubt. He nodded, leading me off to the side.
“Yeah. Let’s talk.”
Chapter Nineteen
Misha
“…We’re not having anymore of these skirmishes. None. We keep in our territory, they keep in theirs. The big drugs, the guns, all of it, it’s over.”
“We’ve seen too much shit and lost too many people to justify doing this shit anymore. A lot of us are tired. A lot of us didn’t get into this shit to be some crazy ass gangs that steal people and shoot shit.So, we’re in a treaty. A real treaty. None of this wishy washy shit we’ve had the last few years.”
“Any questions?”
It was the largest gathering of Pride and Jackal I had ever seen—that is to say, there had never been a gathering like this before.
Trip and Allan, the new Jackal President, stood before us all. Pride on one side in the lot outside of Big Mama’s, and Jackals on the other. It smelled like barbeque in the air, and there were burgers and dogs on the grills that were fired up. They’d met, talked, and drawn up a damn fine order of peace between the two clubs. Apparently, after Rigger had been taken out, Callum and the others loyal to him who had taken over the Jackals had been run out by Allan and the others—tired of all the shit that Rigger had been having them do.
“Yeah, I got a question!” Travis spoke up.
Trip eyed him. “What, Trav?”
“When the fuck do we eat? I’m starving!”
Everyone laughed, and Trip rolled his eyes.
“Go on and get it, assholes. No one’s stopping you.”
The crowd spread out, and the separated lines began to mingle. I watched from the porch of Big Mama’s, and Rose ran up to Trip. I smiled. Things were so much more open now that he had told her he was her father. She took to him more openly—I think, even unknown to her—that maybe that’s what she had beenwaiting for to finally let all the walls down and just be happy with him.
I was happy with him. He’d grown so much. Years ago he would never have done this. Years ago, this never would have been possible. Yet here we were.
“You look so nasty and in love, it’s sick.”
I looked over to see Big Mama. Despite her admonishment, she was smiling widely at me and grinning ear to ear. I returned the smile and looked back out to Trip. He was filling up plates for himself and for Rose. A Jackal stopped to talk. She chattered to him animatedly at whatever he had said to her. My heart swelled.
“I am,” I said. “I really am.”
“You know, not every woman would stick around after all this. A lot would bail. Think it was too much.”
I laughed. “I think after the first time, I’m done bailing,” I said. “I’m … happy. With everything that he’s set forth. He’s grown so much, hasn’t he? This has grown. To think—Pride and Jackal. They’re not friends, but they’re not enemies anymore, either. They’re eating together. They’re talking together. This has never happened before.”
“And it’s likely it wouldn’t ever have if Trip didn’t love you so much. You take good care of that boy, sugar.”
“I will, Big Mama.”
I had a lot of ideas about where I wanted to go from here. All of them involved Trip, the boys, and our girl. I knew there were a few things that I wanted to do first, however.
A couple of weeks after everything between the Pride and the Jackals was settled, I pulled up to Holland’s old place in a new car that I had bought with some of the money that Holland had left me. It had been a surprise, but it was more than enough to kickstart a few little pet projects of mine that I wanted. Hellen was coming outas I was pulling up, and she looked incredibly surprised to see me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as I popped out of my car, smiling warmly at her.
“You not happy to see me, Hellen?”
“More so wondering why the hell you would drag yourself back here after you finally got away—again. Girl, what are you doing here?”
“I got you a little something.”
I went to the car, into the back seat, and pulled out a small but elegant plaque. I had had it custom made for her, in memory of Holland. I knew that whatever funeral or burial t he had had, had likely been tainted by the stain of Rigger. When she saw it, her eyes welled up with tears.
“Misha …”
“Please, please just accept it,” I said. “Things weren’t ideal … I know that it had to be hard, the way things were with me and Holland. But you never treated me poorly for a situation that I couldn’t control, and you never resented me. Trip told me that it was you that brought the envelope and the letter Holland left.”
“I was just trying to look out for you.”
“And this is me looking out for you.”
I fished out a decent stack of cash from my pocket. Immediately, Hellen shook her head.
“You can’t expect me to take that when I got plenty from Holland—”
“This isn’t about Holland,” I told her. “This is about me and you, for all those years. Please, take it. It’s the least I can do.”
Her shaking fingers curled around the bills, and she looked at them incredulously. I didn’t know how much Holland had left her, but I knew that this would be a nice amount to add on top of it.
“You know, you’re welcome over anytime,” I told her, as she brought me into an embrace.
“Yeah, yeah, your boy told me that, too. You go on and git. You stay out of trouble, you hear, girl?”
“I hear you, Hellen.”
/>
After stopping by Hellen’s, I made a trip to the compound. There was even more surprise there. Allan came out, eyeing me warily.
“Misha …?”
I smiled. “Hey, Allan.”
“What are you doing here?”
“You know, the number of times that thathas been said to me today ….”
He smiled a little. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting you. Didn’t know if something came up?”
“No, nothing came up. I actually wanted to talk to you about a little project I want to get done. I hear you do construction on the side …”
Epilogue
Trip
“I can’t believe you pulled this all off.”
We stood together outside of a newly remodeled Ace of Pride. It was … spectacular. Misha had used the remainder of the money that she had gotten from Holland to pay Allan to remodel. The old Ace, it had been great, but this was Misha’s present to me.
“We’re starting new. I think we should give this place a complete one-eighty,” she had said to me.
I had been apprehensive about letting Allan do the work on it. We had worked on a truce, but actually working that close? Seemed like it was going to stir up trouble. But Misha had insisted, saying Allan’s crew came highly recommended, and there were few that could boast the talent that he and his did.
Hated to say it … but she was right.
The bar maintained its rustic value, but it was all updated on the inside, and had a shiny ass new sign on the out. The stairs had decent railing, finally, and the lot wasn’t a dirt and gravel mess from hell. The boy, initially, weren’t sure if they were going to like the change. Seemed a little too wishy washy for their tastes and they knew what they liked and what they didn’t!
But Misha knew her way around stubborn men, and it wasn’t long before they were all on board.
I took Misha’s hand and walked her inside. There were Allan’s boys, and my boys. Together. this was something that was taking a little while to get used to, but I was getting used to it, nonetheless. I guess that’s what happened when you finally buried the hatchet; you stopped caring about dumb shit like who wore what name on their back and what strife in the past you had with people.
“You know, I was thinking,” Misha said.
“Oh, no, more thinking.” She nudged me in the side.
“Hush, you. I was thinking … With everything that has gone on, and everything leveling out, it’d be nice to … Move things along, you know? With all this change.”
I raised a brow.
“More change?” I chuckled. I ordered us both a drink. “You’re on a roll, don’t you think?”
“We’re on a roll, actually,” she said. She smiled at me, her lip bitten. When our drinks were brought out, she nudged hers away.
I raised a brow at her. “No booze? Not even tonight? We’re celebrating!”
“I won’t be celebrating like this for a while,” she said. “A long while. Nine months, to be exact.”
I was confused. Why the specific number? Why—
And then it dawned on me.
No alcohol.
Nine months.
“Holy shit—Misha. Misha, are you sure—”
“One hundred percent.” She bit her lip, fidgeting in her seat. For the first time, I saw nervousness in her eyes, but I had no idea where it came from. “I understand if it’s not okay. But we haven’t been very careful the last few times and—”
I put my finger to her lips, before cupping her face with my hands. I drew her close, so close, keeping my eyes on her and pressing our foreheads together.
“I have never heard something in my entire fucking life that has ever made me so damn happy, Misha,” I said. “Nothing. I am being one hundred percent honest when I say you’ve just made me the goddamn happiest man alive.”
Her face reddened. “You mean it?”
“I mean it.”
I kissed her sweet, then hard, and wrapped my arms around her like I would never let go. There was a wolf whistle somewhere, and then a shout of “Get a room.” Somewhere someone decided to throw a napkin at us, hitting my head.
That’s when I pulled away.
“I’m gonna be a dad again!” I shouted. “Drinks all around, all on me tonight, boys. There’s a whole hell of a lot more that we’re celebrating than just a new gig!”
There were shouts and hoots and hollers. Jackal and Pride alike came up and congratulated us on our good news. I only had eyes for Misha though. The way she glowed under the compliments and the congratulations, the way she tucked her hair out of her face—and I could catch the etch of my name tattooed on her wrist.
Yeah … new gig, new life, new beginnings. I liked the sound of that.
THE END
***
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GRIZ: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Chained Angels MC)
By Nicole Fox
She’s a liability I can’t afford… and a temptation I can’t ignore.
I didn’t ask for another thing to worry about.
Especially not the hot, distracting mess that is Tanner Williams.
But when she challenges my authority, I don’t have a choice.
I need to bring out the chains and truly make her mine.
I could kill my VP for putting me in this mess.
There’s a way things should be done.
And this sure as hell wasn’t it.
Throwing a kidnapped beauty across my bed?
Calling her “the spoils of war”?
It’s more than I asked for.
Sure, she might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
But I’ve got a daughter at home and a club to run.
Not to mention a war looming on the horizon.
I can’t afford distractions like Tanner Williams.
But she’s mine now, whether I like it or not.
And when she starts giving me lip, the last of my patience disappears.
I’m gonna tighten her leash…
And show her who she belongs to now.
Chapter One
Griz
Holy fuck.
There’s a doe-eyed girl on my bed. She’s bound and gagged; her clothes look like they’ve been torn apart by wolves. A smudge of dark oil lines her left cheek. Her long blonde hair has bits of leaves and dirt throughout.
It’s a strange juxtaposition, seeing this dirty waif on my white comforter, against the backdrop of a rich, dark wood headboard. This is my sanctuary, and this unexpected surprise stresses me out in a place that usually relaxes.
This girl is not what I was expecting when I walked in here. I thought I’d find Spike, my second, and Vice President of the Chained Angels Motorcycle Club.
Not that I’d ever tolerate finding Spike in my bedroom, but still, someone said they’d seen him heading back this way and I was ready to rip him to pieces for about sixteen different bullshit moves he’s made that he thinks I don’t know about.
At least now I know why he was back here. Let’s add kidnapping to the list, then. What the ever-loving fuck does this asshole think he’s doing?
My jaw clenches so hard, I feel like my teeth might crack. I can feel the curl of my upper lip, the flare of my nostrils. My hands can’t do a goddamn thing other than ball into fists—fists I’ll probably smash into Spike’s jaw as soon as I find that fucker.
In the meantime, there’s this fucking girl.
She might be past twenty, but not by much. She’s got long-ass legs in tiny jean shorts, and her off-the shoulder shirt is ripped, exposing her white lace bra and flat stomach. Her bare feet and ankles are torn up and bloody. She definitely tried to run and definitely got pulled down, maybe dragged. Whatever happened has left her skittering like a wild animal.
/>
She scurries back on the bed as I approach, probably thinking I’ll rape her, but that’s not my bag. ’Course, she doesn’t know that.
I pull a knife from my boot and her eyes go wide and wet. She shakes her head furiously, big brown eyes like saucers in her grimy face. I stalk toward her, and her noises become desperate, pleading. When I slash the rope at her wrists and feet, she stops breathing for a second. Torture isn’t my gig either, but in that moment, I feel the animal inside of me stretch a little. There is something satisfying about having that kind of control over someone else.