“You heard my woman,” Rebel said after a minute. “She stays with me.”
“Her decision, brother. Let me check on the guys’ progress.” Tanner turned and walked off.
“Della‒”
“She’s okay, honey,” Vinny said standing above me. “Stevie and Skipper are still with her. Stevie was the one who alerted everyone.”
“I saw her watching when they threw me into the van. She’d been waiting for me in the cafeteria. There was nothing she could do to stop it.”
“Yeah, she feels bad about that.”
“There’s nothing for her to feel bad about. It wasn’t her fault. I’m just glad that she and Della weren’t targets, too.”
“Skipper would have given his life to protect them,” Rebel told me. “I should have been there to protect you.” His bitter words drew my attention to his chiseled jaw and the tic in it.
Was he blaming himself? “You can’t be with me all the time.” I watched as someone came over to remove Rocky’s body. He was simply picked up by the ankles and dragged away. I shuddered at the trail of blood left behind.
“Let me help finish up,” Vinny said after a moment. “I’m glad this shit is over.” He turned and disappeared around a corner.
“Is it over?”
“Yeah, angel. Daryl’s dead, too.” I wanted to ask him how, but decided that that was a conversation that could wait. “This shit that happened today was about me, not you. Rocky found out that I was the one who caused the end of his club four years ago. We knew back then that not all of the Red Devils were dead, but we got Wildman and the majority of his men.” He pulled in a breath and released a sigh of aggravation. “I never saw this shit coming, especially after all this time.”
“They wanted revenge?” It seemed obvious.
His nod confirmed it. “Yeah, and Rocky wanted you. I’d kept him from you back then.”
“They were going to kill us, weren’t they?” It wasn’t a question. I stated it as a cold, hard fact, and I didn’t expect Rebel to respond to it. “Do you think there’s any more of them out there?”
He released a heavy breath. “I fucking hope not.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Come on, we can’t sit here all night.” He nudged me to my feet. “Are you sure you’re okay to ride on the back of my bike?”
“Yes.” I slipped the shirt on that Tanner had handed me earlier, pulling out the length of my hair. Rebel raised his hand, cupping the side of my face with a tenderness that was unlike him. He stared silently into my eyes, and I could sense the disquiet simmering beneath the surface of his hard veneer. There was no denying the raw emotions gripping him in that moment. “We’re okay,” I murmured softly, comfortingly.
“No.” That small, single word caught me by surprise, and revealed so much about where Rebel’s head was. “You should never have to worry about being snatched off the street. You should never have to worry about being raped by a gang of outlaws.” He stiffened, clenching his jaw to stop himself from saying more.
His gaze moved to some point over my head, unblinkingly staring at something only he could see. I could still hear the men moving about, but the activity seemed to be slowing down. I cupped his cheek to bring his attention back to me. It was slow in coming.
He’d resisted. I could see it in his eyes—the concern, the grim determination, and the regret. I began to worry about the thoughts that I knew were going through his mind. I stared deeply into his eyes, willing him to see that I loved him, because I wasn’t brave enough to say the words.
I did love him.
“Don’t even think about getting rid of me,” I said firmly.
He snorted. “You’re a mind reader now?”
“It’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Fuck. I hadn’t expected him to admit it so easily. It frightened me. What about all of his earlier talk about finding a house for us to live in together? Panic rose inside of me, but I was determined not to give in to it. We’d been through a lot together, and I was going to fight for us. In spite of that, my eyes burned with the sting of tears. Too much had happened that day, I was suddenly overwhelmed. I couldn’t take any more.
“Can you please break up with me on another day?” I asked outrageously, unable to see him clearly because of the big, fat tears that were clouding my eyes. Deep down I had an idea about why he was feeling that way—he blamed himself for what had happened to me. “Can we please go home now?” I was done.
For a moment we stood in silence. It seemed that Rebel wanted to say something more but was holding himself back. Finally he took my hand and led me out of the house. I tried not to notice what the men were doing, but the glimmering surface of the lake beneath the moon drew my attention to it. It was as if a light bulb were shining down on the water. I turned my head away and focused on where to put my bare feet, crying out when I stepped on something sharp.
“Fuck, baby.” Rebel pivoted around instantly and swung me up into his strong arms. “I fucking forgot that you were barefoot.” He sounded contrite.
He certainly didn’t sound like a man who was about to break a woman’s heart.
That small hope stayed with me on the ride home.
Chapter 32
Rebel
Two weeks later I was still no closer to deciding what I should do about Ginger. I knew that if I chose to be with her there would be consequences—for her. I knew what I wanted, without doubt, but she would be safer away from me. She’d come too fucking close to being raped and killed because of the life I led, and that wasn’t going to change. I was, and always would be, a nomad, a killer for hire, along with anything else the job called for. It was a profession that made me a ton of money, but also enemies along the way, fuckers who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone close to me.
I wasn’t proud of what I’d done after I’d taken her home that day. I’d practically dumped her off at her apartment, telling her that I would be back, when I had known that I wouldn’t be. A real bastard I was. I had flat out lied to her when I’d told her that I was on a job, and had only answered a few of her texts. Thank fuck a job had come up and turned my lie into truth, but it didn’t make me feel any better, knowing that I’d only remained with her after a traumatic incident long enough to clean up. How fucked up was that?
Recalling the liquid hurt in her eyes had gutted me.
Christ, I was going to hell. If I’d had any balls I would have at least explained why I was leaving, but I’d been fucking scared. For her. For me. This whole situation between Ginger and me was a new experience. I’d never wanted to care enough for someone to be put into the position of having to decide whether or not I should give them up. I didn’t want to give her up. That was the problem. I was torn.
I loved her.
Enough to let her go? I couldn’t decide. That was the fucking problem.
Fuck no I couldn’t let her go.
I was fucking screwed, because I knew I was just selfish enough to think that I could have something good in my fucked up life, a woman that I didn’t deserve, but was going to take anyway. I wanted a life with Ginger. I wanted to put my baby in her belly, more than once, until I had that family I’d only ever dreamed about. Other men in my position made it work, why couldn’t I?
But, God, if I ever lost her …
I tossed back my fourth whiskey and slammed the glass down on the table. Even now I had eyes on her, just to make sure that she remained safe. Jace. I snorted, remembering the look on his face when I’d told him about the job I had for him a day after getting back into town. It was easy money for a man like him, considering that Ginger had barely left Della’s apartment since her release from the hospital. All he had to do was keep my woman safe, but he wasn’t being obvious about it. I didn’t want Ginger to be freaked out because someone was watching her.
With Daryl dead, along with most of the Kings and the three remaining Red Devils, it had grown quiet. Thank fuck.
“Another refill, ba
by?”
I looked up at the chick who’d been hitting on me since I’d walked through the door. I was sitting in After Hours, Tanner’s bar, getting wasted. The girls that he employed were eye candy, overly friendly, and not afraid to get down and dirty. I’d already seen one give a lap dance that would have set a normal man’s pants on fire. The two had finally disappeared out the back door.
“Well, honey?” She ran her hand along the back of my neck, brushing her fingers against my hair. There was nothing coy about her.
She was beautiful in a 1940’s starlet kind of way, with platinum hair that curled around her pale, angelic face, pouty, ruby-red lips, heavy but well-done makeup, and an hourglass figure that made a man’s palms itch to get his hands on. It hadn’t been too long ago that I would have had her in the back alley on her knees, but now her aggressive confidence turned me off. In fact, everything about her turned me off. She looked too perfect.
She wasn’t Ginger.
Ginger was perfect.
“Yeah, give me one more,” I finally said, thankful when she walked away. I didn’t even watch the sway of her ass in that too-tight dress she was wearing.
“Thought I’d find you here, brother.”
“What the fuck, brother?” I growled after Jace pulled out a chair and joined me. “You’re supposed to be watching my woman.”
He held up his hands as if to ward off an attack. “Relax, man, she hasn’t left her friend’s apartment in five days. Besides, Skipper has been hanging around. No sense in both of us losing sleep.”
Vinny had offered to pay for a live-in assistant for Della until she was on her feet again, but at the last minute they’d decided that Ginger was the best person to do that, so instead they had hired another waitress to cover her shifts at the bar, while paying Ginger to take care of Della. It only made sense since the girls were like sisters. “I’m not paying Skipper. He’s marking his territory,” I grumbled.
“You’re not paying me, either. Something like this, I don’t charge a brother.”
I knew Jace well enough to know when he’d made up his mind about something. His tone, and the determined look on his face, told me that he’d fight me on this. “Thanks.”
The starlet waitress returned with my whiskey. An inviting smile spread across her face when she made eye-contact with Jace. There was no denying the open invitation in the bright eyes she pinned on him. Jace wouldn’t ignore her. She set the glass down in front of me, keeping her interest on a grinning Jace.
“Anything I can get you, handsome?” Her tongue came out to lick her bottom lip.
His gaze ran up and down her figure, lingering on the tits that were spilling out of her low-cut dress. “Yeah, doll. I’ll have you in about an hour. Before that, bring me what he’s having.”
Shooting Jace a wink, she sashayed off. I shook my head and reached for my drink. “She’s been after me all night. You’re her second choice.” I took a sip.
Jace laughed and sat back in his chair. “I’ll take that. I don’t care for blonds, but my dick is just horny enough not to care.”
“I remember the days when I just fucked and moved on.”
He snorted. “It hasn’t been that long, man, unless you’re trying to convince me that you remained celibate the last four years.”
“Hell, no. There’s been women.” Too many. Nameless, faceless women who had been used strictly to satisfy my needs. There’d never been any indication that Ginger and I would cross paths again, and I was a man, after all. I had needs just like the next person.
The waitress came back and placed Jace’s drink in front of him. “See you in an hour, doll,” he reminded her.
“You weren’t kidding?” she teased in a seductive tone.
“I never kid about fucking.” He reached for his glass. The waitress walked off, but not before giving him an air kiss. He waited until she was out of ear shot before saying, “You need to get your head out of your ass and make up your mind about Ginger. Either make a commitment or turn her loose. Skipper said she walks around like a sad, little mouse when she thinks no one is looking.”
Shit. “I’ve answered her texts,” I said defensively.
Jace’s brow shot up. “Oh, well, then I don’t know what the fucking problem is, brother. That should be enough for her. What a bitch.”
I knew that he was being sarcastic, and he looked angry. Why was a brother getting involved in another brother’s shit? It was none of his fucking business. I finished my whisky, while Jace drank his slowly, as if he hadn’t just called me out on ignoring Ginger. I scowled. I felt like hitting him.
“Look, I know it’s not my place, brother. But I’ve never seen you like this. That tells me that Ginger means something to you, a lot more than just a warm place to stick your dick. It’s obvious you love the girl.”
I glared at him. “Yeah, so?”
“So you do love her.”
I clenched my jaw, wishing that it were that simple. “Loving her isn’t the problem, Jace. Look what almost happened to her because of being with me. I don’t want to hurt her. What if someone else who’s looking for revenge on me gets to her?”
The sound he made was a poor imitation of the buzzer sound you’d hear on a TV game show. “Already happened, brother. And guess what? She didn’t go running, did she? You’re the one running. And I’m telling you, man, this could be the biggest mistake of your life. Men like us don’t often get as lucky as you. I think you should count your blessings, tell her how you feel, and find out how she feels and go from there.”
“What are you all of a sudden, a fucking shrink?” I groused, looking everywhere but at him.
Jace smirked and finished his drink. “Fucking good, huh? And I won’t even charge you,” he joked.
“Asshole,” I grinned, shaking my head.
I thought about the last time that I’d texted Ginger. It had been the day before, after she’d texted just to say hi and to ask if I was okay. She hadn’t asked when she would see me again, or if she would see me again, she’d just wanted to make sure that I was good. She’d given me an update on how well Della was doing. She told me that it seemed that having Skipper around had been good for Della. She spent time on her appearance when she knew that he was coming over, and he managed to get her up and moving about the apartment.
The fact was that my woman wasn’t whining about me not being around, that she wasn’t complaining or crying about the shit that I’d brought down on her. She’d been more concerned about how I was doing, while nursing her best friend back to health. She’d shown nothing but patience, and maybe an understanding that I couldn’t comprehend. She was strong and fearless, she’d shown me that. She was a fighter.
And I was a bastard for not fighting for her.
For us.
“I love her,” I blurted out, surprising us both. “Jesus, fuck, I love her.”
Other than a quirk on his lips, Jace didn’t say anything. He relaxed back in his chair, as if his job was done. Something off to the side snagged our attention, and we both turned to see the waitress standing nearby, crooking her little finger at Jace to go to her. He didn’t waste any time scooting back his chair and getting up to go join her.
I realized that I needed to go see Ginger before it was too late. The talk with Jace had made me see the truth in his words. I was suddenly glad that I’d returned to town two days before. I’d had to make a quick run up north to take care of a low-life piece of shit who was about to testify against a brother who’d been set up for murder by a rival MC. Supposedly, he was the only witness. That he wasn’t under police protection was a mystery in itself, but who was I to question it?
Since my brother, Don, and his club were under close police surveillance, they’d wanted someone from the outside to take the bastard out so that they would have a solid alibi. It had been an easy hit. Scum hung out with scum, and a little money went a long way when it came to getting information. It hadn’t taken me long to locate the man in a bar in the seedier si
de of town, bragging about the money he was going to receive for lying. I’d waited for him to exit the bar, shot him once between the fucking eyes, and then got on my bike and rode back here.
I had no reason to stay away from Ginger now. It was time to grow a pair and confront the woman that I loved. If what Jace had said was true, I’d been a fool. I left some money on the table for my tab and left the bar out the back where I’d left my bike. It was now or never.
It was time to see my woman.
But first, I had to see about a house.
Chapter 33
Ginger
I was in Della’s kitchen making dinner when I heard the knock at the door. I turned to glance at Skipper, hoping that he would get it, because I was in the process of dropping pasta into a pot of boiling water. He made eye-contact with me as he got to his feet. We exchanged a smile, and I turned back to the stove. I liked Skipper. At first I’d worried that he was moving too fast with Della, not giving her the time to mentally heal from her ordeal, but after seeing how she had responded to his patience and gentle manipulation I decided that he was just what she needed. He didn’t give her time to sit back and feel sorry for herself.
Men were different when it came to situations like this. Women let their hearts rule their actions, while men tended to take the bull by the horns and do what they needed to do to get things done. I unwillingly acknowledged that, had it just been me and Della, she would probably have still been bedridden. Skipper had gotten her up and out of bed on the first day, giving Della a reason to move forward. Ever since then, she’d taken the time to do her makeup and dress nicely before his arrival. I only prayed that he was spending so much time with her because he was serious about pursuing a relationship with her, and not just because he felt sorry for her.
I’d watched him closely. He was very sincere in how he was treating Della. The fact that she seemed comfortable around him, happy even, revealed that she was on the same page as he. Whatever was happening between them was a good thing.
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