Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 4

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Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 4 Page 55

by MariaLisa deMora


  Seeing Juanita the night before the funeral had them both weeping, Bella crowding close, arms around both women. Fury, Bones, and Tater had stayed nearby, waiting to be needed. It had been cathartic for all of them in a way, but when Bethy asked about Mela, fear rose in Juanita’s face like a wave battering the shore. Carmela had been with a group of bikers headed from Indiana back to New Mexico, and none of them had made it. No sign of them anywhere, and Mason had everyone looking.

  Then it had been over, and like Tabby’s funeral, the whole thing seemed both rushed and drawn out, leaving her exhausted and sleeping in the car all the way back to Fort Wayne. Gabe had surprised her by giving her space to sleep and then cry, only touching her when she’d reach out—he seemed to understand that after the services, after seeing the hole in the ground, casket suspended over it by the fragile bands holding it aloft, after standing close and throwing her clod of dirt into the grave—she needed time to sort out all the hidden terrors and pain dragged to the surface.

  That was five days ago, and today she was driving to Nashville to pick Michael up. She intended to swing by to see the studio first, pick up any messages or mail that hadn’t yet been forwarded, and then spend the night in her apartment. The plan was to get Michael early tomorrow, making the return six-hour trip to get back in time for dinner at Mason’s. She wasn’t looking forward to the night alone. It would be the first in weeks, and she hadn’t been very comfortable in the apartment after Ty had moved to the group home. She was expecting a sleepless night and had already cataloged a dozen ways she could keep busy.

  “Why are you going to Nashville? I’m assuming you mean with me, but why?” Zipping the suitcase closed, she found her hands brushed aside as Gabe lifted it, setting the wheels on the floor.

  “Because I want to?” He grinned, and the sight of his smile breaking through that damned, beautiful red beard made her smile in response. “Come on, Bethy. I don’t want to sleep alone. I’m betting you’re the same way. I’ll come with, we can do dinner out, both get a good night’s sleep, and then I can meet Michael.”

  Staring at him, she saw nothing but earnest desire in his eyes. Nodding, she offered, “I bet if I call ahead, he could do dinner with us.” Gabe’s expression brightened and his smile grew broader. “You really want that?”

  “Fuck, yeah, I want that. He’s your kid, baby. Nearly a man grown, and I want to get to know him.” He leaned in, kissing her softly. “See what he thinks about being a big brother at some point.” His palm settled on her belly and she grinned, feeling his lips move and knew he was smiling too. “Even if it takes us a while, we’ll get there. I want to know he’s cool with it.”

  “Pinch me.” He laughed at her request, giving the skin along her hip the tiniest tweak. “Swear to God, Gabe. I can’t believe we’re here.”

  “Believe it, baby. Told you, mine forever. That means you come with a boy half-grown? Cool. Means we have a half a dozen rugrats? Also cool.” She rolled her eyes, and he laughed, head back, mouth open, sounds of his humor pouring from him to fill the room. He sobered, staring into her eyes, earnest love on his face. “Means we never get the chance to parent together, except what we can do with Michael? Much as it would kill, that’s cool, too, because I’d be here with you.”

  ***

  Fury

  Bethy was wringing her hands in her lap, the movement unconscious but consistent. Nervous as she was it would be a wonder if she could eat anything, and a second wonder if what she ate would stay down.

  “Relax, baby. I already know I’m gonna love him.” Her face lifted to his and he saw tears trembling on her bottom lashes. That looked like a lot more than nervousness. “What, Beth? What’s wrong?”

  “I just really, really wish Mikey had gotten to meet him.”

  He steered the car into the parking lot of a shopping center they were passing and parked. Unbuckling, he reached over and popped the button on her belt. Lifting and pulling, he brought her into his lap, shifting his seat backwards as he held her close. They sat like that for minutes as she cried into his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt dampening, getting wet, holding the weight of her tears. Silent through it all, she gave a tiny hiccup that he knew signaled her crying jag was on the downward side.

  This was something he hated. Not her crying. Well, yeah, he hated that, because so far it had been him doing stupid shit that had caused it, or it was like this, and something he couldn’t fix. Couldn’t get his hands on to make better. No, what he hated was the long-lived evidence of how their life back in Kentucky had scarred her. Crying silently so she wouldn’t be heard, no matter what was done to her.

  Voice trembling, she broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what, lover?” He gave her a squeeze.

  She snorted a watery laugh. “For being such a girly girl.”

  He squeezed again, slipping one hand down to her thigh to stroke up and down. “I like you being a girly girl.”

  “I’m not usually, so don’t get used to it.” That had a little bit of her sass back, and he smiled against her hair to hear it. “We should go.”

  “We should,” he agreed, not moving. That earned him another snort, this one less tear-filled. “We will. Just let me have another minute of you, yeah?”

  “You only want a minute?”

  Eyes closed, he held her, feeling the way her breath still hitched occasionally, and liked how her weight in his lap felt perfect, as if he could sit here for days and not get tired of holding her. “I’ll take a lifetime, one minute at a time.”

  Michael was waiting on the porch of the large house as Fury pulled the car to a stop. Tall and angular, he seemed to be all elbows and knees, big mitts of his hands dangling at his sides. Dark hair curled at the back of his neck, hanging down into his face to partially hide intelligent grey eyes. He looked exactly like Mason had at that age. Even before Bethy could unbuckle, Michael had her door open and had crouched down, looking into her face with an intensity Fury could feel from across the car. The boy didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at her. Then when he did, it wasn’t anything Fury would have expected.

  “You’ve been crying.” Michael moved, angling so he could glare at Fury. “Did he make you cry?”

  Whoa. Bethy had told her son she was bringing a friend, and when questioned by Michael had given him the information that Gabe, as she called him, was more than a friend. She hadn’t mentioned him being upset by the news, but clearly this was a wrinkle the kid wasn’t excited about.

  Before Fury could respond, Bethy got there. “No, honey. Gabe didn’t make me sad. I just had a good friend die. I told you that. I had a moment on the way over, that’s why we’re late. Gabe had to stop the car and take care of me.” She lifted a hand to curl her fingers around the corner of Michael’s jaw, angling his head so he had to look at her. Pointedly she said, “Hello, Michael. I’ve missed you.”

  Lurching forwards, Michael wrapped his arms around her with a sigh. “I missed you, too. I was afraid I’d made you mad with all my questions. With my wanting…I just missed you.”

  Fury gave them a minute, looking around at the neighborhood. It was nice, filled with well-kept homes, clearly a bedroom community of families by the piles of bikes next to some of the garages. Movement caught his attention, and he saw an older woman come out of the house they were parked in front of, the door opening behind her as a man joined her on the porch. “Beth, looks like Michael’s parents want to say hello, too.”

  Michael pulled back, looking around Bethy again, this time with an embarrassed expression on his face. “Hi, I’m Michael.”

  Bethy filled in, “And he’s sorry about what he said before.”

  Fury scoffed. “No, he’s not, baby. He was makin’ sure someone he cares about was okay. Can’t hold that against him.” He stuck out a hand and Michael gripped and held, solemnly pumping up and down. “Hey, there. I’m Gabe.” For the second time in a few minutes, he unbuckled Bethy, this time pushing her ass to slide her to
wards the door. “Out, babe. Let’s meet ‘n greet, and then get some food. I’m starving.”

  She rolled her eyes as Michael laughed and stood, holding his hand out to help her up. Gabe liked seeing that, how the boy held her in high regard, ready to do battle if someone hurt her, and making even a casual gesture caring. He joined them at the porch, following Bethy up the sidewalk, winning the battle to keep his eyes off her ass. Probably wouldn’t go over well with Michael’s adoptive parents if I strolled up lookin’ like a lech.

  Five minutes later they were back in the vehicle, Michael in the backseat. He was so tall he could lean up between the seats, and did, hand to the radio in a way that spoke volumes to how comfortable he was in Bethy’s car. That started a good-natured argument about what radio station they’d listen to, Michael coming out on the controlling side of the buttons well before they pulled into the restaurant Bethy had selected for their meal.

  At the table Michael was well mannered, courteous, and curious, something he didn’t bother trying to hide. She’d been gone a long time, and he had questions about that, about how she was handling what had evidently been a difficult conversation with Michael before she left, and who Fury was to her. All his questions made Bethy anxious, and she kept tripping over herself to give him the answers he seemed to need. He wasn’t rude, not a bit of it, just persistent in a way that made Fury smile. His questions continued through the meal, circling back to Bethy’s family again and again, and Fury finally understood the kid was not just inquisitive but was nervous at the idea of meeting people who meant something to this woman he clearly loved.

  Leaning forward, Fury tapped his water glass with the handle of his fork, pulling their attention to him easier than if he’d tried to interrupt the intense conversation. Leveling the fork at Michael, Fury told him, “Get this, yeah? Bethy’s family is good, decent people. I’ve known her brother all my life, known Bethy the same. They’re the kind of folks where, once you’re in, you’re in. No worries about them changing their minds. Mason’s already decided you’re in, or he wouldn’t have pushed her to bring you up. He would have come down and done an on-site assessment, so to speak, figuring out if you’re worth the time and effort.” Bethy’s head jerked back, and her eyes went wide as Michael’s expression mirrored hers. Fury grinned. “Him tellin’ her to bring you up, letting you close to his wife and kids? No doubt about it. You are in, boy. Family. Cousin Chase will be happy to have someone around his age to talk to. And, I bet you won’t always get along, but that’s okay, because family doesn’t set you aside just because you argue.” He shook his head, stabbing a piece of meat with his fork and lifting it to his mouth. “I won’t set you aside just because you like country music, either. Just sayin’.” He shoved the bite into his mouth and chewed, watching wave after wave of emotion cross the boy’s face. Relief and fear, followed by a longing so intense he wondered if Bethy saw it, too. A moment later she leaned towards Michael and spoke softly, confirming his suspicions.

  “Gabe’s right, you know. I don’t tell him that often, on account of it goes to his head, but he’s right about this.” Michael turned to face her. “I’ve fought to stay part of your life through the years, because I wanted you to know me. Now, I want you to know my family. All the people who are as important to me as you are. They’re going to love you, Michael.”

  “I’m a little nervous,” Michael admitted and she nodded.

  “I know. So are they, honestly.”

  “Nervous? Why?” The kid looked confused.

  “Because they’re going to be meeting someone who is very important to me and they care.” Michael offered her a one-sided grin and she returned it, reaching out to ruffle and then smooth his hair. “You can’t blow my cover, though.” Michael cocked his head to one side and she laughed. “Chase thinks I’m cool. I wanna keep my cool aunt status for a little longer.”

  “You are cool.” Michael was quick to defend her, and that made Fury grin. “She is!”

  “Okay then, I’m cool. You’re cool.” She looked at Fury. “Are you cool, honey?”

  Stabbing a piece of meat off her plate, he grinned at her immediate scowl and then laughed aloud as Michael eased his plate away, moving it closer to his side of the table. “Oh, yeah, baby. I’m cool.”

  Right don’t mean easy

  Mason

  He stood in the open garage door and watched as the car swung into his driveway. Squinting through the glare of sunshine, he made out the form of his sister in the front passenger seat, Fury driving, his red beard the most visible thing inside the car. The door leading into the house opened behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Chase walking towards him. For a moment Mason was struck by how mature his boy looked these days, not the first time he’d had that thought. Not quite as tall as his daddy, still Chase had the thick, dark hair from the Mason side of his family, and a build that showed he spent time working out.

  Good lookin’ kid, he thought, shaking his head. Late teens were a hard age, but Chase had pulled himself together over the past year and a half. Mason had talked about it with Jase, because the man seemed to have a sixth-sense when it came to kids. They’d decided it boiled down to Sosa being killed. Taking her out of the equation allowed Chase to explore being happy with Mason and Willa, without feeling guilty about that happiness.

  The multiple slamming of car doors announced their visitors were on the move and he shifted to look outside again. Bethy walked his way, arm around a boy who towered over her by several inches, putting him nearly eye-to-eye with Mason. Fury had her hand in his, walking slightly to the side, but keeping that connection.

  Nearly fucked up with that one. Mason had never been one to hold others accountable for his mistakes, and this was no different. Pike had been full of bullshit, and if Mason hadn’t been so thrown by the idea of little Bethy being with one of his members, he would have seen it. All the time he’d spent grooming Fury to take over from him, nearly thrown away in the space of a few hours.

  Bethy laughed, neck twisting so she could look up at Fury who tipped his head to steal a kiss as they walked the last few feet to where Mason stood. She loves him. Mason knew what love looked like. He was blessed to see it in the face of his wife every day. He knew there was something else in their past, but if Bethy had buried it, as far as Mason was concerned, it could stay buried. Good enough.

  Chase stopped next to him as Mason stuck out his hand towards the boy who had to be Michael, and wasn’t that a kick in the teeth. Bethy still felt guilty about never telling him or Watcher about the boy she’d birthed, even if her reasons were sound in her mind. Watcher would have been thrilled at his namesake, would have bent the world into a pretzel to get Bethy whatever she needed.

  Michael gripped his hand, and Mason clamped down, jerking the boy towards him, Bethy making a tiny surprised sound as her arm slipped away. Then Mason had Michael in his arms, holding him close, talking fast into the boy’s ear, wanting to make an impression before he lost the upper hand. “Know you’re nervous, boy. Don’t be. We’re family here, every one of us, and we’ll bleed ourselves dry to get you whatever you need.” Mason gave a squeeze, and Michael made a sound that echoed Bethy, making Mason grin. “Proud as fuck to meet you, Mikey, I’m already thinkin’ you’re a little bit of all right.”

  A wheeze, then near his ear, he heard Bethy’s son whisper, “You’re my Uncle Mason, right? Pleased to meet you, sir.”

  He laughed, the loud sound echoing off the inside of the garage as he stepped back. “Pleased as fuck to meet you, Mikey.” Looping an arm around Chase’s shoulders, he pulled him forwards. “This is my boy, Chase. One of my boys. The other one ain’t much of a conversationalist yet, but Chase’ll talk your ear off.” Chase reached out and Michael shook his hand. “Bethy, come here, baby doll. Need a hug from you, too.” He released Chase and brought Bethy close, kissing the side of her head. “Fury.” He nodded at the man who had stayed back a few steps. “Good trip?”

  “Good as it c
an be in a cage.” Fury grinned and Mason returned the expression. “You got beer?”

  “Yeah, let’s move this inside.” He dipped his knees and before Bethy could react, had her up and over his shoulder, arm wrapped around her thighs to hold her in place. “Brother, wanna bring the boys in with ya?”

  “Will do.” Fury laughed, the sound barely audible over Bethy’s howls of anger, partly fake, mostly real.

  “Mom?” Michael called and Bethy went rigid, still and quiet. “Can I go with Chase? He’s going to run to the store quick for Aunt Willa.”

  They were inside the house before Bethy answered, her voice breathy and quiet. “Sure, honey.” The door closed behind them and Mason heard the roar of Chase’s truck exhaust as the engine started.

  Mason set her back on her feet, looking down into her face, seeing tears welling in her eyes. “What’s wrong, Bethy? Did I hurt you?” She shook her head. “Then what’s wrong?”

  “He called her mom.” Fury’s words broke the stillness that had been holding Bethy in place and she turned, launching herself at Mason, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m betting it’s the first time.”

  Mason closed his eyes, holding Bethy close, feeling her body shake. “I can’t imagine how you’re dealing with all this, Bethy. I lost twelve years of Chase’s life, but once I was in it there was no questioning what my role was. You’ve had him all this time, but still not. So fuckin’ strong, baby sister. Love you.”

 

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