by Max Henry
Her eyes narrow, and she scrutinizes me. “Do you realize what you just said.”
I shake my head.
“You said, ‘what I felt about Mike’—as in past tense.”
“I guess I did,” I say, genuinely shocked. “Fancy that.”
“You’re good for each other,” she says, grinning. “He’s a lot less broody, and you’re . . . happier.”
“Was I not happy before?” I tease.
“Not genuinely,” she whispers, leaning forward. “Now you are though.”
We spend a moment in silence as the realization of where I’m at with Vince sinks in. I spent so much time stressing about trivial things, but I can see what he meant when he said it would be worth it. If I’d known this is how I could feel when I stopped worrying about Mike’s memory, I would have battled to get to this point sooner.
I feel healthy, alive. And I know for a fact I’m loved.
“Do you ever wonder what’s happened to Sawyer?” Ramona asks randomly.
“Sometimes,” I answer in earnest, switching subjects in my mind. “But we need to make peace with what has been done, Mona. The man had it coming; it just sucks that we had to be the ones to deliver.”
She nods, and closes her eyes. “I’m getting tired of this, Sonya.”
“Of what?”
“Being so emotionally invested in a lifestyle that only leads to heartache.” Her eyes flick open, and she stares at the sunlight making patterns on the ceiling. “It seems like every time I think the club is finally settling down, something else comes up. I don’t know how much longer I can stay strong for Mack like this.”
“What are you thinking of doing?” I close my book and set it aside.
“Leaving the life. Starting again.”
“Where?” I can only guess.
“Here,” she confirms. “I’ve been looking around at schools and housing. It seems pretty good here, plus I’d have these guys as support. Jane’s lovely.”
“She is,” I agree. Although, I’m pretty sure she has another reason to stay. My gaze flicks to where Ty was just standing. “How do you think Mack would take it?”
Ramona shrugs, oblivious to where I was looking. “He’s young enough still to adapt. And quite frankly, I’d rather he was upset about moving houses than having another ‘uncle’ at the club die.”
Stark, pitiless truth, right there.
Having Mack continue to grow up in the club will do nothing short of guarantee him a spot as a prospect when he’s old enough, and then a position as an officer before long. If Ramona struggles with seeing him in the lifestyle now, then how the hell would she manage that? I can’t think of a single mother who would honestly say she’d be comfortable to stand back and let her baby put himself in harm’s way, constantly.
“Have you told King how you’re feeling?”
She shakes her head slowly. “Not yet.”
I sigh, and scoot forward in my seat. “Sweetheart, you have to do what is right for you. Don’t you worry about the opinions of others. You trust your gut, and if it says you need to leave us behind and start afresh, then do it.” Because isn’t that what I’ve been telling myself the last few days? That I need to go with my gut?
She smiles. “I wouldn’t leave you all behind. We’d still visit, but I need that distance . . . for Mack.”
I reach across, and take her hand. “I get it. Just make sure you have a spare room for us to visit you as well.”
She nods, beaming a genuine smile. “I will.”
“Now,” I say, standing, “I better go find my man so we can organize what we’re having for dinner.”
I head for the door when Ramona calls out, “Sonya?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for everything you did over the years. For me and Mack. I don’t think anyone ever tells you that enough, but we all need you. We’d be lost around that place if you left.”
“Good thing I don’t have any plans to,” I say, and turn away before she can see my welling tears.
Because she’s just told me the very reason why I can’t leave—because who I am matters to these people, my family, and what I give them would be missed.
These past weeks I’ve struggled with not being something more important. But where exactly? On paper? In a job title? I am more to that club, just as Vince explained, and I’ve come to realize that I crave the dependency those boys have on me. Without it, who would I be? Why would I matter? I appreciate the gratification they give me when I go out of my way for them, but I’d do it even if the lot of them never paid me the time of day, because I love them.
They are my family, and they are the ones I turn to.
Without the club, I’m simply not myself.
I soon find Vince out in the garage with Alice, tinkering with an old lawn mower. I rub my eyes one last time, paranoid they’ll know how much Ramona’s words affected me, and head in to greet them.
Vince lifts his head, and smiles. “Hey you. What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you?” I ask.
Alice tosses a rag to Vince. He snags it, and scrubs the oil and grease from his fingers.
“Everything okay?” Vince’s eyes roam my face as I stand there in the open, unprotected from his scrutiny.
“Yeah.” I wave it off. “Just want to talk to you about dinner.”
Vince tips his chin, frowning, and turns to Alice. “You good?”
He simply nods, and returns to his tinkering as Vince guides me from the garage.
“What do you want to discuss about dinner that’s so important?” he asks as we walk.
“Nothing,” I say as we crest the porch steps.
“Didn’t think so.” He stalls. “So, what is it?”
“I want to go home, Vince. I’ve been thinking about everyone at the club, and”—I giggle at the ludicrousness of it—“I think I’m home-sick.”
“Really?” he asks, wide-eyed.
“What’s so hard to believe about that?”
“Nothing,” he says, guiding us to a seat. “It’s just you talked so much about feeling like you didn’t mean anything to them.”
I nod. “Yeah, I did . . .”
“But?”
“But, I’ve been thinking about what you said, as well as what King told me when you phoned him at the diner. They’re my family, Vince, and sometimes family forget to say thank you or show their gratitude, but you can’t lose that bond. They mean a lot to me, every one of those grubby guys, right down to the last hang-around. I miss being able to show my appreciation for them by doing what I do every day.”
He sighs, and leans forward in his seat. “You’re sure about this?”
“Completely,” I answer. “I think it’s just being there every day without a break gave me a narrow view of it all. But this trip down here, it’s exactly what I needed to take a step back and realize what I missed.”
“King will be happy to hear that.”
“He will?”
“Of course, baby. He was worried about you.”
Vince stares intently at the tree in the backyard. Quiet moments pass with nothing more than the chirp of a lonely bird in the branches. I fidget, waiting for him to say something else, unsure if I should just get up and walk away, if the conversation is over or not.
“Do you not want to go home yet?” I ask.
“I would have liked to stay a little longer, but Alice and I had a good talk when you were reading. I think it’ll be okay.”
I reach out, and place my hand on his leg. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“Baby,” he says, trapping my hand under his, “you’re not.”
“I’m looking forward to this, Vince—to finding out where this takes us.”
“I am too,” he says, and leans over for a kiss.
I match his softness, gently pulling at his bottom lip when I lean back again.
“I’m glad I had you to share these past days with,” he admits.
“You are?”
He
nods. “Seems fitting to have you a part of these new memories.”
I smile, and do a partial bow. “Glad I could be of service.”
“I think you’ve helped more people in your lifetime than you realize, gorgeous.”
“I sure hope so.”
Vince holds my gaze for a quiet while, and I begin to squirm.
“Don’t ever leave, no matter what happens around us,” he says. “Promise me I get to keep you forever.”
I smile slowly, warmed by his need. “I promise.”
“How do I know you’re not just telling me what I want to hear?”
“Because I’m not,” I say, frowning. “I mean it.” I can’t imagine a life on my own anymore, without him there to ground me.
“Be my old lady,” he rushes out. “Make that promise to not just me, but everyone at the club that I’ll wake up to you every day.”
My face burns—I’ve never felt more exposed.
“That’s a very serious title, Vince.”
“I’m a very serious man.”
My head scrambles for something monumental, meaningful and memorable to say, but I draw a blank. As committed as we are to each other, I truly never saw that coming. So, I go with my gut, considering it hasn’t failed me yet. “I’d love to.”
His eyes brighten, and he lunges from the seat, scooping me into his chest. I wrap my arms about his neck, and twist in his hold to grip his waist with my legs.
“You, baby, have made me very happy.”
“Correction,” I say, before placing a kiss on his lips. “We make each other happy.”
I continue to pepper him with kisses along his jaw and up to his temple as he walks. I’m so consumed in the moment, I don’t even check to see where Ramona is as we pass through the mudroom and hang a right at the doorway, away from the living room. Vince marches us into our spare room, and kicks the door shut behind him.
“Weren’t we in here not so long ago?” I ask with a smirk.
“Yeah, but now we got something else to celebrate. I can’t wait for everyone to know,” he says, giddy as a kid at Christmas. “We’re heading home tomorrow.”
“Whatever you say.”
The bed dips under our weight, and he lays me down beneath him. “Are you really all mine?” he asks, teasing in his tone.
“One hundred per cent.”
“I’m fuckin’ lucky,” he chuckles, “to get all this sexiness whenever I want it.”
“And don’t you forget it,” I taunt, wriggling free of my T-shirt.
Vice assists me in getting it over my head, and swiftly pops the clasp on my bra in the process. I tug it over my arms and toss it aside, moving on to my shorts while he stands to remove his clothes.
Vince naked is a sight I know I’ll never tire of. He looks after his body with the same precision and care as his bike, and the result is the same both ways—a finely-tuned machine ready to run whenever you want.
I trap him inside my legs, clamping my ankles together behind him after he lowers himself back over me. Our eyes hold one another, never breaking that connection as he rubs his length over my clit, working us both to the point of distraction.
I wriggle and edge my way around underneath him, trying to get his cock that bit further on the downward stroke so he slips into line, but by the grin on his face, he’s well aware of what I’m trying to do and holding back expertly.
“I need you in me,” I whine.
“Why?” he asks, mischievously.
“Because it’s where you belong,” I moan.
His eyes darken, and he pulls back that extra half inch to let the tip of his length slip through my wetness. I cry out as he thrusts into me, and cling to my gorgeous man as he pumps in a lazy rhythm.
The pressure builds quickly, our emotions too raw, and I start to push back on his thrust. He bites his bottom lip—the sight drives me crazy. Leaning into our hold, I slip my tongue over his lips, and urge them apart to kiss him deep and passionately. Vince moans into my mouth, his legs stiffen, and I feel each and every twitch as he comes inside of me.
I follow his lead, and groan in pure bliss as my orgasm pulls through me, leaving a path of butterflies and heat in its wake.
Opening my eyes, I find a set of dark irises staring right back at me. “Every day,” he mumbles. “Every day I get that.”
I giggle at his pleasure at the thought, and kiss him on the cheek. “Sometimes twice.”
WE’VE BEEN back a week. A solid week of the usual jobs, and of losing myself in Sonya in between. Club life has returned to normal, although the dark undertones of what we’re working on behind the scenes stains the walls, litters the floors, and crowds every corner.
At face value, the club is the best it’s ever been. But beneath the surface the iceberg floats, threatening to tear the place apart.
Sonya is out shopping, enjoying the sunshine with Ramona and Mack, who are up to pack their belongings in preparation for the big shift. A handful of prospects and hang-arounds dwell in the common room as I make my way to King’s office.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,” he waves me in, scribbling something down. “Take a seat.”
I lean against the wall—I’ve never been one to sit.
“Ty phoned,” he says, still looking at the paper before him. “He’s found a way in for Bronx.”
“About time.”
“Hey,” he snaps. “The guy’s doing the best job he can, and from the notes he’s sent me he’s some sort of genius. I mean, the details and thought he’d put into these scenarios . . .”
“Scenarios?” I ask.
“Yeah.” King shoves a piece of paper at me. “Look at that.”
I run my eye over the information on the sheet. Ty has not only collated facts and details about Edward’s guys, but he’s also provided statistics on how often they’re at various places, what the members’ weaknesses are given the patterns to their movements, and even listed specific times they can be found at key locations.
“He’s neurotic, I would have said.”
“Whatever he is,” King says, “he’s got this figured out.”
“So, when is infiltration?”
“He thinks another week and they’ll be set.”
“Really?” How long do we have until Carlos is bored, wants results? The guy’s not going to wait forever.
“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s fine.” His shaky hand reaches for the clearly cold cup of coffee. King’s ashtray overflows, and the guy’s usually tanned skin is pale.
“When did you last sleep?”
King snaps his gaze to mine, and laughs. “Too much at stake, dude. I don’t have time to sleep.”
“You’re no good exhausted. What needs doing? Can’t Callum take over for a bit and let you rest? I’m sure he can wake you if anything urgent happens.”
“You don’t get it,” King says, a pained expression across his face. “I can’t fail. I’ve got to make sure these debts are paid.”
Back to this.
“You won’t fail us, man. I told you that already.”
“Here.” He waves a slip of paper at me. “Got you a run to do. Now go, leave me to it.”
I hesitate, watching the implosion of a man burdened by his own fears. Watching his life run in parallel to how mine was fifteen years ago.
He continues scratching at the papers before him, then stands abruptly and snatches his keys. “Haven’t you got somewhere you’re supposed to be?” he asks as he breezes past.
I swivel, watching him go with my brow furrowed.
What the fuck happened to the joker that pulled me off the street?
More so, in a club full of people ‘loyal’ to him, why doesn’t anyone give enough of a fuck to do something about it?
• • • • •
“I’M WORRIED about King.”
Sonya looks up from rolling out pastry for a half-dozen pies she’s making. “You noticed.”
“What are we going to
do about it?”
She shrugs. “I tried telling him to have a day off, but he doesn’t want to listen to me.”
“We’ve got the party tonight for us.”
She raises her brows, and her eyes flick between the pastry and me. “I completely forgot.”
“Ha fuckin’ ha. I’m serious. You should have seen him, baby. He looks like he’s about to fuckin’ crack.”
“Then do something to make him step down for a few days.”
“Like what?” I round the counter-top and swipe my finger in the sweet apple-and-blueberry filling.
She slaps my hand away and moves the bowl to the far side of her. “Take him on a ‘run’. Stage something, because heaven knows the man won’t go willingly.”
I nod, thinking this over. What could I come up with that requires the president to go?
“Callum will need to be in on it,” I say.
“Of course.” She rolls her eyes. “Can you pass me that dish over there?”
I hold it just out of her reach. “Are you going to roll your eyes at me again?”
“Depends,” she says. “Are you going to hand me that dish?”
I cede, and steal a kiss as I pass the dish to her. “Ramona’s sticking around, right? Tonight?”
“Yeah.” Sonya nods. “She’s finishing up with the last of the packing and then heading over.”
“Good.” I duck behind her, and quickly swipe more apple-and-blueberry filling.
“Get out,” she hollers, slapping at me as I leave.
The halls are quiet, save for the occasional clink of glass as three prospects bring boxes of alcohol in through the back doors. I give them a polite nod and head towards King’s office.
He’s not there.
His bedroom comes up empty, too, so I swing back through the common room one last time, just to be sure.
Definitely not around.
It’s only when I give up and step outside to prepare the fire pits that I find him, pacing the length of the back fence. I approach him with caution, waiting until he realizes I’m there and stops of his own accord, rather than me having disturbed him.
“Hey, buddy.”
His eyes flick to me, and he hesitates, as though he doesn’t understand why I’m standing before him.
