by Snow, Nicole
“Are we done here?” I asked.
“I wouldn't let you walk if we didn't have an understanding,” he said, pulling out a smoke and lighting it. “You won't let this become a bigger issue for the club, and I'll hold you to it. Now, get the hell outta my office and go give that sweet thing a decent place to stay. And if I hear anything about you fucking her up, doing anything that makes her run, you can bet your ass I'll haul you back in here. I'm trusting you to figure this shit out with your words – not your fists. You can't muscle your way out of this one. You've got to use your brains, son. I know you've got 'em, otherwise you wouldn't be wearing the Enforcer patch. Prove me right.”
I nodded, and so did he. Yeah, we had an understanding. Now, everything hinged on striking the perfect balance between Sally and my club.
* * * *
“Let's go, babe. We're leaving.”
She didn't wanna come with me after we dropped off Caleb with Christa for a few hours. Too damned bad. I took her by the hand and made her walk, clenching her hot little hand in mine.
Fuck, even when Sally wanted to gouge my eyes out, the chick was hot as fuck. I hated the way she caused my prick to jump every time she shot me those fuck you eyes.
Yeah, fuck me.
Fuck me for watching her standing there in short heels and a skirt, a conservative top that couldn't conceal those tits from my eyes if the fabric was made outta stone. Fuck me for trying to keep the hate fires going while she flicked an angry tongue over her lips, trying to hold back from laying into me.
Sooner or later, I knew I'd be laying into her after she got my brand stamped in her flesh. I didn't give a single shit if she hated my guts and then some.
Just like I told the Prez – I'd make her love me. I'd make us one big happy family, husband and wife, badass and old lady, or I'd be in a fucking coffin trying. I'd turn her fuck you eyes into fuck me gemstones and watch her slide down to her knees, my fist in her hair, growling while she begged to suck my cock.
“Let's get this over with,” Sally snapped, trotting past me toward the garages.
A few minutes later, she was on my bike, her little fingers digging into my abs hard enough to make me feel it. She held on like a woman grabbing a sharp cliff because it was the only thing that kept her from falling to her doom.
Like it or not, I was saving her, whether she fucking knew it or not.
Holding her up. Making damned sure she never tumbled back to earth with my son in her hands, impaling them both on the cartel's blood red knives.
Fuck.
At the tattoo shop in town, we met this skinny freak covered from head to toe in ink like a goddamned alligator's scales. He did good work on our crew and several of our old ladies, and he had Sally's shirt off in no time, scrawling PROPERTY OF ROMAN on her lower back.
Perfect place to see it when I'd be pounding the fuck outta her in the future. She refused to give me much input on the brand going on her skin, so I chose everything myself.
Thorns around the side. A dark butterfly on one corner, spreading its wings, the only thing she fought me on because I wanted a crow on her skin at the start. We compromised with the bug, and I had to admit, it looked damned good.
When it was all over, she snatched the fabric back over her skin, sat up from the bench, and glared. Ink boy smiled at me, an awkward little sparkle in his eyes.
I nodded, reaching for my wallet, and left it at that. He didn't need to know shit.
Something about watching his hands all over my woman made me fucking pissed. No, it didn't matter that she wasn't mine yet neither.
If it took years for us to break down and fuck, I'd never let another man put his hands on her again. The whole damned world was bound to know what we were soon, and she wouldn't be moving outta my sight without a branded jacket on her shoulders to match the stamp I'd just given her above the ass.
“Take me home,” she muttered, as soon as we stepped outside and headed for my bike.
“Cheer the fuck up. It looks awesome, Sally. I got you the best damned ink money can buy here in town. You've gotta be the only girl in the world who gets upset about looking hot.”
She shrugged, looking sadly at the sidewalk. Anger and disappointment shot through my chest, as if the shit swirling around inside her somehow escaped and infected my sorry ass.
I wasn't fucking stupid. I got it. I was taking her on a whirlwind ride my way, the only way she left open after I blew her cover and walked into my son's life for good.
She'd figure it out in time, or I'd twist her head 'til she did. I wasn't fucking letting up on this girl, or my idea of weaving some kinda real family from this chaos.
We tore down Redding's streets. I couldn't stop wondering just how many drops of blood and tears it'd take to get us to that place I imagined.
* * * *
“What the hell is this?” she said, stepping off her bike in front of the house tucked back in the 'burbs.
The street was just as quiet as I'd seen this morning, before I hit the clubhouse, and that was a good sign.
“Your only chance to look at this place and let me know if you wanna settle here or bounce. You'll tell me more about this than you did about the ink, or I'll make this decision for you too.” I took her helmet and watched her eyes widen. “I'm giving you one chance, babe.”
“I already have a home with Caleb and Norm. I don't need a new one.”
“You're not setting foot there again 'til this cartel business is case fucking closed, babe. Maybe not even then. I'm gonna be around to protect my family, wherever you end up. Don't make me explain it to you again.”
She frowned, sulking. I couldn't hold back. We'd only have a few quiet minutes before the landlord pulled up to show us around, so I had to do everything I could to make her smile before then.
I reached out, cupped her chin with my fingers, and pulled her head up to look at me. “It's gonna be fine. You will be too. I'm not the fucking monster you think I am. You lied to me, babe, and I can kinda see why you did. I fucking hated it. You and the kiddo are coming with me, wherever the fuck I go, whether you like it or not. But I'm gonna make this shit as safe and comfortable for you as I can. Don't you get it?”
For a second, her face softened. Then her cheeks flushed red and her features crinkled. She ripped her chin outta my hands and angrily hopped off the back of my bike.
“Go to hell. You'd better hope this place has a few more bedrooms so you can sleep on the floor.”
Sweet. Fiery. Bitch.
She turned her back and started heading for the house, and I sat out there waiting for our man. I fucking hated this shit. Damn if I didn't watch her round ass moving underneath that skirt every step she took, wagging those globes in front of me like candy she wanted to keep to herself.
Damn if I'd let her be that greedy. Fuck if I'd let her keep me from busting a hole in her life and taking everything over.
She was mine the instant that brand went on her skin, and once I took hold, I never let go.
* * * *
The tour went fast. She tried like hell not too look at me. My eyes were all over her as the old landlord with the potbelly prattled on, talking about all the features that were supposed to wow us.
It was a decent place.
Still, the jacuzzi didn't mean shit to me 'til I could pull her in and fuck her senseless. Neither did the remodeled kitchen, unless it meant her smiling at me with honey instead of vinegar, preferably wearing an apron and nothing else.
My dick definitely had an inverse relationship to her pissing me off. The worse it got, the harder I wanted to fuck her, imagining all the ways I'd strip her down and slam into her hot wet cunt in this house.
I'd fuck her in every room 'til she smiled at me with love in her eyes. I'd screw the bitch right outta her, mark every room with our rough scent, watch her convulse all over me in the goddamned grass if I had to.
I'd never had a place this big, even though I could afford it for a long time. Plus there was a
nice big yard for my kid to play in, assuming we put our stakes down here for a few years. That had to count for something.
When the man brought us back to the living room, he looked at us both with an easy smile.
“Well, what do you think?”
“We'll take it,” I said, fixing my eyes on Sally. I didn't see any reluctance in her bright eyes. “You said over the phone it's move in ready now, right?”
“You can sign the lease today!” he said excitedly, waving us out to his truck for the papers. “Should have the keys for you by tomorrow. I assure you, it's a great place to raise a family.”
“Yeah, it is,” I said with a smile, looking at Sally again. “Don't you agree, babe?”
“Maybe.”
The landlord beamed. My eyes hit her face like a goddamned laser beam, searching for that sass she was giving me before. Her tone was softer, and there wasn't as much tension lining those soft cheeks I couldn't stop thinking about turning bright red as I pounded her to orgasm harder than she'd ever come in her entire life.
I'd already had that pussy a couple dozen times. So why the fuck couldn't I stop my dick from thumping like it knew it was gonna sink into a virgin?
I'd end up between her legs one way or another. If she was really accepting this place, opening herself to me, then I'd be buried balls deep a lot sooner than I thought. I'd pull her into the life I wanted with Caleb.
Day by day. Kiss by kiss. Fuck by fuck. Kicking and screaming.
She became mine in more ways than she could even imagine the instant my ink bled into her skin. And once a man in this club claimed anybody, it was damned well forever. We'd never had a fucker kick his old lady to the asphalt since we toppled the old Prez, Fang, and I sure as shit wasn't gonna be the first.
I watched her lean on the hood of the landlord's SUV and sign the lease, before he picked it up and passed it to me. “Here you are, sir.”
I ripped it outta his hands and slammed the paper on the metal surface. “Just give me the fucking pen. You know how much extra I'm paying on this place to skip the credit check.”
VII: No More Fooling (Sally)
Moving day came with a bright September haze.
Not that I did much moving for the first few hours. I brought Caleb into the house and it took me awhile to calm him down. All this moving around, meeting strangers, passing our days in the strange, noisy clubhouse, had clearly overloaded my poor baby's senses.
I sat in the spare room upstairs, empty except for a rocking chair Roman brought up, staring out the window as he hauled in huge boxes and furniture. Asphalt was the only one there to help, but Roman moved with the strength and energy of a whole moving crew.
Then Norm called. I bit my lip, tensing with my finger on the phone's button. The club hadn't taken it away from me like they did with most of their prisoners. I guess I'd been extra cooperative – and what else could I do except swallow their orders whole?
I tapped the connect button, and Norm unloaded.
“Sally, are you out of your fucking mind? I get maybe going away to that clubhouse for a couple days after the bastard all but dragged you out. But our place is your damned home. Not with him. I don't give a shit what they keep saying. I'm not going, and neither should you. That man, Stryker, told me I should've been gone days ago to avoid getting my head chopped. I don't care. I'm not going fucking anywhere, and I can't believe you rolled over for these biker idiots.”
“These idiots are the only thing between us and a Mexican blade in the middle of the night. Maybe worse.” I gathered my breath and sighed. “It's too dangerous, Norm. Don't be a stubborn jackass. You really should get out of there. I know it's hard, I know it's not ideal, but you're going to get yourself killed. This isn't just about me either. I can't have my son living in a place that isn't safe.”
Norm laughed, fast and shrill. “Safe? You gotta be kidding! You think you're safe living with that fucking biker? Do you even know what those guys do in their spare time?”
“Mostly drink a lot. Sometimes chase skirt.”
Or sometimes take a girl prisoner, slap a tattoo on her, and call her 'mine,' I thought.
“Nothing's funny about this shit, Sally. Stop screwing around.”
“I know. And I don't want you getting hurt.” I paused, listening to the tremor in his breathing. “Norm, we have savings in the business account. We can take the loss this season. There's no need to put yourself in harm's way just to work for money we don't absolutely need.”
“You think I don't know that?” He sounded so hurt. “Jesus, Sally. This isn't about taking a loss. These biker assholes obviously can't protect this place like I thought. I'm staying here. I'll have my gun, I'll have my guys, and we'll fill the gaps the MC can't cover. I'm not gonna let some drug dealing bastards roll up and torch my old man's farmhouse. It's been in this family for a hundred years. I won't be the coward watching it burn. We've grown up here for generations, and I owe them better than turning tail and coming home to cinders. My wife's ashes are here.”
“Norm...please.” Tears filled my eyes.
Jenny died before Uncle Ralph brought me in as a team. It took years for my poor cousin to shake off the loss, to function as a human being again, and now he'd fallen back into his grief. He sounded just as shocked, weak, and stunned as he had after her death.
“Don't. You're welcome to come home when you're ready. If I've got to protect everything this family's ever worked for, everything we've ever had, then I'll do it alone. I don't need you.”
The line went dead. I dropped the phone on the floor and walked over to the crib, staring at Caleb. I tried my best not to let my heart stop, blinking away the harsh tears building in my eyes.
Every compromise I could've possibly made was bad. I had to give up something – just like I had to give myself to the bastard pounding his way up the front steps outside.
I watched him through the window. Roman handled the massive coffee table without even breaking a sweat. His muscles were fully flexed, making him look even huger than usual. Hotter too, much as I didn't want to admit it.
Hot, angry, forbidden heat stormed in my veins. The little flashes of fire that told me I wanted him were the worst.
It wasn't the first time I'd sensed it. I felt it on his bike, the road purring underneath us, every nerve in my body humming to match the speed of my heart. My body couldn't deny there was an attraction.
There always had been. There always would be.
How long before I let his drinking, whoring, cursing lips touch mine? Even if he agreed to sleep in another room, how long would it be before I gave into my long starved urge for a man's touch?
I shuddered.
A huge crash outside my door brought me back to my senses. I popped the door and looked out into the hallway.
“Cocksucking bastard motherfucker!” The box of toys Asphalt had dropped down the stairs on the landing busted open, strewing its contents out around his boots. He looked like he was about to have a stroke.
“Do you need a hand?” I asked, folding my arms.
He looked up, and the anger in his beady eyes melted into shame. “Nah. Big boy doesn't want you on your feet, throwing out your back going up and down these stairs, carrying all this shit.”
“He really said that?”
“He says a lot of shit, and there's no arguing about this. Let us do the work, old lady,” he growled, reminding me what I'd become. “That's what brothers are for.”
Maybe he had a point, not that I liked being shoved to the side by pure testosterone. Like it or not, I was being forced into the MC's machine now.
* * * *
I woke up late from a nap, after dark. My heart sputtered as I checked the time, and realized I should've fed Caleb a couple hours ago.
“Shit.” The house was quiet.
I walked out of the bedroom and into his room, only to find Roman there, an empty jar of baby food at his side. He sat on the floor, holding the kid – a strange contrast with suc
h a giant, rough man and a tiny baby in his arms.
“Roman?'
He turned around slowly with a finger pressed to his lips, warning me not to wake the sleeping boy in his arms. His gentle movements sent shock and sadness through my veins. I'd never seen him like this before, and it scared me because I didn't know how to react.
Jesus. What was I supposed to think? It was like they were meant to be together, and I'd kept them apart, delayed something beautiful and natural by being the most indecisive bitch in the world.
I wasn't ready to whack myself across the head. But I had to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I was wrong.
Roman might be a drunken cowboy on a steel horse, and a bastard to me, but could he be a good father after all?
Instead of fishing for an answer, I swallowed the lump in my throat, bridging the distance between us. I kneeled on the floor next to him, running my fingers softly through Caleb's little crop of hair. It was getting darker by the day. He'd really look like Roman in a few more years, and I wasn't sure how the hell to feel about that.
Surely, it couldn't be worse than the giant in his leather cut staring right at me.
“You seriously fed him?” I asked.
“Yeah. Went down easy too. It's almost fun when he stops fussing.”
“Well, let's put him to bed,” I said, reaching for the boy and pulling him out of the biker's arms as gently as I could. Roman stood up and followed me.
We took a moment, staring at the little man we'd created as he turned over. I wasn't sure what the hell we were doing, but I couldn't ignore the fact that it felt like a real family moment. Almost.
If only he hadn't treated me so shitty. If only I hadn't cut him off for almost two years. If only the cartel hadn't come and the MC wasn't so vicious. If only I wasn't born so none of this would've happened.
“Babe, you okay?”
No, goddamn it. I wasn't. I'd been living for about a week with the risk of every word striking my ears triggering tears, and it was starting to get really exhausting.
