by Tillie Cole
I lifted my hands to sign because there was no fucking way I could speak right now. “I was riding.” Ky eyed me weird for the second time today, but I had no time to fucking have questions forced on me. The elevator opened, and we got in. Ky punched the number for the third floor. My feet fucking rocked from side to side, blood rushing through my veins as I waited for the fucking tin box to move.
“He’s coming, brother,” Ky said, smiling, and slapped me on my back. “Your fucking kid!” I pushed my hand through my hair as I watched the numbers light their way to floor three. I just needed to get the fuck there!
When the doors finally opened, I pounded through the hallways and went over to the reception desk. I opened my mouth to speak, but my fucking defective throat wouldn’t work.
“River Nash. His wife’s in labor.” Ky spoke for me. The woman behind the desk’s eyes widened when she saw us . . . when she saw me. She swallowed nervously and looked to her colleague.
Yeah, bitch, I wanted to say. You got the prez of the motherfucking Hades Hangmen here right now, and if you don’t let me in to my fucking wife, I’ll break through the fucking secure doors and kill any fucker that tries to stop me getting to my bitch.
She must have seen the look of death my eyes promised, because she tapped something on the computer and stuttered, “Y-you’re on the l-list. I just gotta see some ID.”
I slapped my license, down on the desk and she checked it. “Room six.”
Ky spun me around and kissed my cheek, winking. “Get the fuck in there. I’ll wait here.” He looked back at all the people staring our way. Most saw our cuts. No doubt I looked like Hades himself standing in front of them.
“You can go through now, Mr. Nash.” The receptionist pointed to the automatic secure doors, which were opening. Slapping Ky on the shoulder, I rushed through the doors and searched for room six. It was at the end of the hallway. Like outside in the reception, the nurses and doctors stared at me coming past. I knew what they were seeing—a huge, dark-haired, tattooed prez who looked like he would kill in seconds. I would. Luckily for them, it was only people who pissed me the fuck off. If they got in my way, that would mean them.
A loud motherfucking cry came from the end of the hallway; I recognized that voice straight away. I rushed down the rest of the hallway and smashed through the door. Beauty and Lilah were standing either side of Mae, a hand in each of hers.
The minute Mae saw me, her lip wobbled, fucking destroying me where I stood. “River . . .” Beauty moved. Mae’s hand was held out for me. I took hold of it and finally got a good look at her. Her black hair was tied back, strands around her face were wet. Her face was red and covered in sweat. Her eyes were tired, but she still looked up at me like I was a fucking god. “River . . .” she said again, her voice breaking. “You made it.” She smiled at me, and the look on her face broke my fucking heart.
Mae’s hand suddenly squeezed mine tightly. She cried out again, back arching. Lilah gave her some weird-looking contraption to suck on. Mae’s eyes squeezed shut, and a nurse came over to check the machines that were all around her.
“It won’t be long,” she said and gave Mae a big smile, like my wife wasn’t fucking ripped apart with pain.
“Styx,” Beauty said from behind me. I was fucking lost right now. Could barely take my eyes from Mae looking like this, gripping on to me while she was fucking racked with pain. “We’ll wait outside in the waiting room, okay?”
I nodded. What the fuck was I meant to do in here? When I looked back at Mae, Lilah was kissing her on the head. “You can do this, sister.” Lilah smiled. “It will not be long before we have a little boy to love and spoil, Mama.”
“Yes,” Mae agreed and smiled again. A tear fell down her cheek as Lilah left the room. When her wolf eyes rolled to me, I fucking broke again. She must have seen it. “I am okay, Styx.” She squeezed my hand again, but she had all the strength of a fly. Her hand shook. “I am so happy you are here. I need you so much.”
The nurse left the room. I wanted to drag her back in by her fucking hair and demand she take the fucking pain away from Mae.
“I will be okay, Styx.”
Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers. Mae, as always, fell into me. My forehead touched hers. “I f-fucking love y-you.”
I felt Mae smile against my lips, before another contraction ripped the fuck through her, forcing her to tear her head away and cry out. In seconds, her doctor was through. Her female doctor. Like fuck I was gonna pay for some male cunt to have his hands all up in my woman’s pussy.
The doctor moved between Mae’s legs. Mae’s hands tightened in mine. Her eyes stayed fixed on mine the entire time. I shook with fucking rage. Anger that, even now, Mae still couldn’t face anyone but me touching her legs—not that any fucker would dare try. But she couldn’t even stand her doctor being between her legs. It was because of all of the years of abuse by those bastards in the cult. Forcing her legs open and fucking her until she bled.
I kept my eyes on her as the doctor rolled her chair back, got to her feet and said, “We’re ready for you to start pushing.”
Mae took a deep breath and said to me, “River . . . I am scared.”
My chest fucking snapped. I couldn’t fucking stand her in pain. Was gonna fucking explode seeing her like this. But I kept my shit together. Leaning down, I put my ear to her ear. “Y-you got this, b-babe. I’m h-here. I fucking love y-you and I’m h-here. Y-yeah?”
Mae breathed out, and her hand slackened around mine. “Yes.”
“Mae, on your next contraction, I want you to push, okay?” Mae nodded at her doctor. And she did as she was told.
It was brutal. It was fucking torture to watch my bitch go through so much pain. But she never fell apart. She fucking held onto my hand and pushed and pushed, until the doctor lifted her head from between Mae’s legs and said, “One more push, Mae, and your son will be here.”
“Charon,” Mae whispered and smiled up at me. She was exhausted. But I could see her excitement in her perfect fucking face. Her wolf eyes locked on mine. “His name is Charon,” she told the doctor.
“Then next push, and Charon will be here.”
“You good, b-babe?” I said in Mae’s ear.
“He will be here soon, Styx. Our son . . . our boy.” A lump the size of Mars fucking clogged my throat. I kissed her, then Mae was pushing. My bitch gave it all she fucking had in her tiny body. Then the sounds of crying filled the room.
My head snapped to the doctor, and my stomach fucking dropped when she lifted our baby onto Mae’s chest. Mae’s hand slipped from mine and wrapped around our kid. I was fucking dumbstruck as I stared down at him. At Mae crying, holding him and looking at him like he was already her fucking world.
“Oh, my goodness . . .” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He is perfect, Styx.” She looked up to me and smiled though fucking tears. “Charon . . . our little Charon.”
I stared down at Mae and Charon and couldn’t fucking breathe. The python that was always wrapped around my throat squeezed tight. I wouldn’t be able to talk. But I didn’t fucking care. I had my woman, and now I had my son . . .
I had a fucking son.
“Styx,” Mae whispered and held out her hand. I put my hand in hers and she pulled me down. I kissed her lips. “Look, River. Meet Charon. Meet your boy.” I did as she said. He had dark hair. I didn’t think kids had hair when they were born. But Charon did. Black hair . . . just like Mae. My chest tightened when I studied his little face. But then he opened his eyes, blue eyes, and I was fucking done. He had black hair and blue eyes.
Just like fucking Mae.
“They might change,” Mae said, reading my damn mind. I looked at my woman. “All babies are born with blue eyes.” But I didn’t think they would change. Mae’s eyes were fucking perfect. Made sense our son would have them too.
The doctor took Charon away and cleaned him up. The nurses took care of Mae. But it wasn’t long before Charon was back
in Mae’s arms. I was pretty fucking sure no one had ever looked so good holding a baby. I sat on the edge of Mae’s bed, my arm around her, touching my son’s cheek. I was clearly fucking tired too, because in that moment all I thought about was my mama. She must have felt like this too. My old man wouldn’t have given a shit about me. I doubted the cunt was even there when I was born.
I watched Mae kiss Charon’s head, tears rolling down her face in happiness, and my heart fucking cracked. This, right here . . . it was all I’d fucking dreamed of. Ever since I’d met the girl behind the fence with the wolf eyes and weird voice. It’s all I’d ever wanted. To have her as my bitch and our kids running around my club and my feet.
My mama ran away. Being here right now with Mae and Charon made me realize just how fucking desperate she must have been to have left. Then to have come back, knowing my old man would most likely kill her.
“I love him, River,” Mae whispered. “I love him so much already. I cannot stop staring at his face . . . he is a dream come true.”
As I lay with Mae and Charon, I thought of the fucking war we were in. The war that was building, getting ready to explode. And I knew, now I had this—them—I’d fucking fight harder than before. I’d protect my club harder than ever. And if any motherfucker tried to take them from me, I’d kill them. I’d cut them open and make them bleed until no blood was left.
No fucker was getting to my family. Nobody.
I smiled coldly when I thought of someone even fucking trying.
Chapter Ten
Adelita
“You’ll be fine,” Tanner reassured me and took hold of my hand. He pulled me to him on the bed. I went—I would always go—crawling onto his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. As I stared into his blue eyes, I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact we were here.
At night, when Tanner slept, I would lie awake in fear. Dread would course through me at a rapid pace. A suffocating weight would gather in my sternum, a dull persistent ache when I let myself succumb to the idea that scared me most—that this was all a foolish dream. That right now, Tanner and I were playing house. Locked up in his room like we were free from our pasts, free from the shackles that had held us back from running away when we first fell in love.
I would stare at the ceiling, the room pitch black due to being far away from the city lights. But even in the darkness, I would see my father’s face. I would see Diego’s. I would see their men mobilizing to bring me back. I had no idea if they suspected the Hangmen. But the fact that it was quiet—too quiet–didn’t fill me with hope. Instead, it filled me with such great terror that I touched Tanner whenever I could. Each kiss was given as though it would be our last. I savored his muscles under my hands. His hair through my fingers. And I cherished how this felt—to be with the one I loved.
My fiancé.
My heart.
Leaning in, I kissed Tanner, holding on to him tightly. Tanner kissed me back, then laughed against my lips. My chest warmed as his deep timbre rumbled through me. If we got through this mess, it would be my greatest task—to make this man laugh more.
“If you keep grinding your pussy against me like that we won’t be going nowhere, princess.”
Sighing, I pulled back and got off Tanner’s lap to look at myself in the mirror. I stared at the black jeans I wore, and the tank with the Hangmen emblem in the center. Beauty had brought me more clothes from her store. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I had to breathe deeply.
If my father saw me now . . . if he saw that emblem standing in pride of place on my chest . . .
I squeezed my eyes shut when I thought of that man. The man I had loved so much. Idolized. Worshipped . . . to have the illusion shattered by the haunted eyes and timid voice of a serially abused child.
“You ready?” Tanner moved behind me, his hands on my shoulders. He brushed my hair away from my neck and kissed my bare skin. His rough hands ran down my arms, only for his hand to link through my fingers. I couldn’t help but stare at the reflection of us both—Tanner in his dark jeans, boots, white tank and Hangmen cut. And me, his woman, matching him in dress but the complete opposite to him in looks.
To my eyes, I had never seen a couple look more compatible.
Tanner brought my hand to his mouth and laid a kiss on the back. “Come on.” I breathed deeply, trying to quell my nerves. The president, Styx, and his wife were coming to the clubhouse today with their new son. They had been home a few days, but the men had yet to see his new child. Tanner told me there was a celebration to be had in Charon’s honor. And I’d been allowed to attend. For many days I’d been in Tanner’s room with him, not allowed to step outside. I wasn’t sure why I was being allowed to leave now—maybe they finally believed that I never intended to go back to my father. Or perhaps Styx was so overcome with happiness at being a new father that he was being overly lenient. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was leaving this room, the safe bubble in which I had found comfort, my small bubble with Tanner.
On seeing my nerves, Tanner turned me from the mirror to face him. He gently dropped his forehead to mine. “You’ll be fine.”
I gave him a forced smile. “I’m Adelita Quintana; of course I will.” Though my family name suddenly didn’t fill me with much confidence.
Tanner didn’t smile back at me. Taking hold of my left hand, he brought it between us, running his thumb over the place his cotton engagement ring once sat. “One day, Lita . . . One day you won’t be a Quintana.” My breathing hitched and a lump clogged my throat at the telltale emotional gravel in Tanner’s voice. His blue eyes met mine. “One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be an Ayers.” He exhaled like it was a breath he had been holding for an eternity. “One day soon, after all these years apart, of fighting and fucking working to make this happen, you’ll finally be mine.”
My hand shook as he spoke those words. It was my greatest dream too. Not to be rich. I’d been rich my entire life and still felt alone. My greatest wish in life was simple. It was him. My Tanner.
“Yes,” I announced, as though he had once again proposed. I kissed the finger that would wear his wedding band. “Soon.” I closed my eyes for a few seconds and let myself imagine what that moment would be like. The moment I said “I do.” The moment Tanner and I wore wedding bands and the priest pronounced us man and wife.
Adela Elizebetta Quintana Ayers.
I frowned. In my culture, we kept our family’s name and took our husband’s name too. But the Quintana name to me now was ruined.
Adelita Ayers . . . I smiled. It felt . . . right.
The coil of dread that had resided in me since I came back to Tanner grew tighter still, fear chasing away any other dominant emotion. But I pushed it aside, willing myself to ignore the persistent feeling that this couldn’t last. I would embrace the moment. And right now, after years of seeking a safe place for us to be together, Tanner was introducing me to his friends as his old lady.
I knew this meant the world to him.
Gripping my hand in his, Tanner led us from the room that had become my sanctuary, and toward a bar. The sound coming from inside was deafening as we approached. If Tanner felt my hand trembling, he was polite enough not to let me know. I took a deep breath as Tanner opened the door. The place was packed. I knew the clubhouse and the grounds outside were full of other men from all over the southern states of the US. But seeing them all congregating in one place was more than overwhelming.
Tanner craned his neck above the sea of men, and then waved at someone over the crowd. Some of the men looked at us as we passed, but not as much as I feared. I relaxed some when my being in the room, holding Tanner’s hand, didn’t garner as much attention I as I thought it would.
When we broke through the throng, it was to see Beauty sitting with other familiar faces. The man beside her got to his feet, as did Beauty. Tank. Beauty was smiling widely at me. “Hey, darlin’!” she said, and came around the table. I froze as Beauty threw her arms around
my neck. I quickly looked to Tanner, who let go of my hand. The corner of his lip was pulled up in humor.
When Beauty let go, I said, “Hello, again.”
Beauty put her hand on Tank’s shoulder. “Now that things aren’t so fucked up, this, Adelita, is Tank. My man and Tanner’s best friend.”
Tank gave me a tight smile, then held out his hand. I shook it, and said, “Thank you for being such a good friend to Tanner.”
Tank seemed taken back by my words. Like he didn’t know that Tanner would’ve spoken so highly of him. Or maybe that he’d even told me who Tank was to him. Tank looked at Tanner. “You been talking about me, brother?”
Tanner shrugged, then looked to some other men who were there. “This is AK.” AK got to his feet and I shook his hand. I remembered him from the truck ride to the clubhouse when I was taken from the barn. “This is Bull, Ky, Cowboy, Hush, Smiler, and Rudge.” I shook all the men’s hands.
A tall man with red hair got up from his seat and smiled widely at me. He came straight to me, saying, “Fuck the handshake.” He wrapped his arms around me. “I need to show our cartel princess some Viking love.” Just as he squeezed me to his chest, he was pulled away.
Tanner pushed him back until he fell into his seat. “Don’t fucking touch her,” Tanner warned.
The red-haired man just smiled and casually put his hands on the back of his head. “What’s wrong, White Prince? Worried your princess will prefer the anaconda to your worm?” I frowned, having no understanding of what they were talking about. The redhead shrugged. “I can’t help if bitches love me. I’m fucking irresistible to pussy.”
