Gypsy's Lady

by MariaLisa deMora

  ***

  Gypsy watched Kelsey’s ass move in her leggings as she walked away from him and back to the building. He smiled, thinking again how her body had begun to fill out in the week since the rescue. Only moments ago those new curves had been pressed tightly against his front, his arms wrapped around to keep her warm, the proximity intoxicating and arousing. Fuck me, can I do this?

  She lifted her hand and her fingers wriggled in a tiny wave, and he nodded, keeping his gaze on her until she was safely inside. He knew Vicious would be out in a minute to see how the chat had gone, leaving the two women alone to analyze Gypsy’s motives. I don’t care how nervous Nary is about letting my woman go; it’s what they both need to move forwards.

  Only moments earlier, Kelsey had agreed to travel back to the US with him. She didn’t know the specifics yet, he’d keep those close to the vest as long as he could, but it was a relief to have her willing to make the journey. Not that I would’ve left her behind, regardless. It would be far easier this way, though.

  His only concerns now were about himself. Kelsey needed space and time to heal from the ordeal she’d been through. He couldn’t expect her to bounce back as if she were fitted with springs on her shoes, and even the strides she’d made so far were exciting, but so small. Getting on a jet and crossing an ocean with him would be huge. Talking to Mason last night, he’d been forced to dig deeper into his motivation, and Gypsy had accepted his desire for the girl was the biggest factor in this move. He wanted her to trust him, wanted her to like him as much as he liked her already, wanted her to want him. It’ll take time.

  Staring up, he watched the faraway stars overhead twinkle in the dark sky. Here in Caroline Springs, standing on the land of a country he never expected to visit, Gypsy wondered about the quirks of life. How a man like him could stumble through his whole life, struggling to find something not only worth living for, but worth fighting for, and travel halfway around the world before finding it. He questioned himself, wondering if when even the stars were unfamiliar, could a man hope to build something strong and true.

  A sound behind him drew his attention and he glanced back to see Vicious strolling in his direction, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. “Brother,” came the now-familiar drawl, accented with humor that suited the man. As much as Gypsy found himself liking Stoke, Vicious was the one he’d gotten closest to, a friendship cemented by their concern for the women. “Your girl came in smiling, so I’m guessin’ you got the fuckin’ answer you wanted then?”

  “I did,” Gypsy agreed, giving a nod. “Had me worried for a minute, thought I’d have to work harder for it, but she needed to know her coming with was what I wanted. She’s all in.”

  “And that’s still what you want, you sure?” Vicious’ mouth twisted, and Gypsy paused, giving him space to say what he wanted. “Even knowin’ the road you’ve got in front of you? You stay here, Nary and the other women can help you get Kelsey back to better. You go and it gets jacked, it’s all on you to get her right again.”

  “No, man. You’re wrong there. I’m not alone back in Fort Wayne. What you have here with your brothers, it’s really fuckin’ close to what I’ve got. I’m biased, but I’m gonna say my patch brothers and club are…well, they’re exactly what I need. Like Hawks are for you. I know it’s not exactly the same, but my chapter president, Slate, his old lady was captive of a rival MC for months. It was back before he knew her, but she…Melanie was fucked up for a long time. I knew her before, and she was different afterward. Anyone would be. Her…what she went through…” He shook his head. “Fuck, man. So similar. Slate brought her back to herself, but the core of her was unshaken. I don’t know how our women stand it, you know? So fucking strong.”

  Clearing his throat, Vicious nodded. “It’s good you got fuckers like that at your back, man. Glad you got that. Still, you need anything, anything at all, you call. I’ll fuckin’ be there. Don’t give a fuck what it is. You fuckin’ need me, I’ll do for you.” They stood silent for a moment before the door opened and closed behind them. Gypsy turned to see Stoke headed their direction.

  “Nary called. Told me some shit about you leaving and stealing Kelsey away.” Feet planted firmly, Stoke stared at him, fists resting on his hips. Jesus, if this was what Vicious faced down every time he tried to be with Nary, I can totally understand how things got complicated between them.

  “Kelsey’s coming home with me, yes.” Without thinking, he matched Stoke’s posture, only realizing it when Vicious chuckled as he moved to stand to the side. Gypsy dropped his arms, shaking out his fists. “It’s not gonna be a secret to anyone that since things are mostly settled, my time here is running out. I have to head home sooner or later, and I’ve already pushed the later as hard as I can.” He shook his head, holding Stoke’s gaze, surprised at how protective the man was for Kelsey. Surprised, but glad, too. “I can’t find it in me to leave her. Talked to Mason and told him as much.”

  “And Kelsey’s going because…why?” Stoke’s stare didn’t waver, and if it weren’t for his chest rising and falling with each even breath, Gypsy could have been convinced he was a statue.

  “Truth, brother?” He waited for a beat, finally rewarded by a sharp nod from Stoke. “You’ve seen her, how she is with me.” Stoke nodded again. “What you might not see, is that’s how I am with her, too. I need to have her with me. Not a want, brother. This is a soul-deep need. She’s mine. She knows it, even if she can’t process the knowledge yet. A woman like her, anything more than what we have now—protector and protected—that’ll have to be something she brings to the table. I won’t do anything to set her back. Fuck, you gotta know that. She comes with me because she’s mine, and it means she’s Rebel, too. They have my back and they’ll have hers, same way. Mason’s on board, and by tomorrow, I’ll have a good grasp on how we’re doing it. I get she’s undocumented,”—that was something Nary had shared, how afraid Kelsey was of telling her background, certain her absent family wanted nothing to do with her after what happened, convinced by Baxter no one had wanted her—“and my guys know. We’ll work around it. She gets nervous, and a trip like this will bring her anxiety out in force. I’ll need to get your crew to help with some meds that’ll fly through security and help her cope on the trip. See? I’m thinking with my big head, man.”

  “My girl loves her. My Nary’s been leaning on Kelsey. You both know that.” It was Gypsy’s turn to nod, and from the corner of his eye, saw Vicious do the same. “That means you pull her prop out from under her, she might fall.”

  Vicious spoke quickly, his tone firm. “No, she fuckin’ won’t. I won’t let her.”

  “You can’t say that—” Stoke hardly got started before Vicious moved, shifting close so they were nearly chest-to-chest.

  “I can. I did. You fuckin’ heard me just now.” With emphasis, breath hissing through gritted teeth, he bit off his words. “No. She. Fuckin’. Won’t. I’ll see to it, Stoke. I got her.” A pause, and then more softly, but with even more intensity than before. “I got her.”

  Stoke stared at Vicious, faces a handspan apart. Gypsy watched them, wondering if Dallas could separate them if they went at it. He couldn’t be the one stepping between them if it happened. Not my place. I’m a temporary guest here, no matter how familiar it feels.

  Something must have clicked between the men because they both took a step back at the same time, shoulders inching down as the level of tension reduced. Vicious took in a deep breath and without warning, reached out and grabbed Stoke by the back of his neck, bringing their faces close again. Foreheads resting against the other, he all but whispered a repeat of his words, promising so much more. “I got her. I won’t let her fall, brother, because I’ll be by her side. I got her.”

  “I know you do, Saxon.” Stoke’s jaw clenched, and Gypsy wanted to look away, tried to give these two men privacy, but couldn’t. “She’s my baby girl, son. Do right with her. Fuckin’ finally, do right.”

  “I
got her.” Vicious’ echo was softer, still vow-filled. “She’s comin’ back to herself. My angel is comin’ back. Shinin’ strong. Our girl’ll be fine. I fuckin’ promise you, brother.”

  ***

  Kelsey

  Whatever Nary was saying wasn’t actually audible, but the tone broke through and Kelsey squeezed her arms tightly around her friend. Tiny sobs broke every word into pieces, and each of them tore another part of Kelsey’s heart open. I have to tell her. She has to know. They were standing in front of the compound with the taxi already waiting, ready to whisk Kelsey and Gypsy away to the airport. This was goodbye. Not forever, she reminded herself, forcing down tears that threatened at the thought.

  “Nh-Nary.” As if the stuttered word was magic and could conjure silence, Nary grew quiet and Kelsey knew it was because she was listening. Kelsey took in a deep breath, imagining it filling her with strength and peace, like one of the Hawks’ women had coached her. I’m going to miss all of them so much. “I love you.” No stuttering, no hesitation, she said the words straight out. “So much.” Nary’s arms gave her a tight, tight squeeze and Kelsey heard herself squeak a tiny bit, the sound enough to make Nary giggle. A tiny giggle, instead of a tiny sob. I’ll take it.

  “I love you, too, Kelsey.” Soft as a feather, Nary’s breath brushed against the curve of her ear. “I’ll come see you soon. Promise. And if Gypsy…if he turns different once you get there, though I doubt he will, but to be safe, and I want my girl safe, all you have to do is tell me. I’ll be there faster than you can spit. We should make up a secret phrase so I’ll know, even if you can’t tell me what’s wrong. You’d just have to say…” Nary’s voice trailed off as she appeared to cast around for ideas.

  Kelsey grinned at the idea of Gypsy being anything other than the honorable man she knew him to be. However, she quite liked the idea of having a secret with Nary, a good one this time, one they would be able to pull out in ten years and talk about, complete with giggles and smiles about how silly they’d been once upon a time. It startled Kelsey to realize she was thinking of the future like that, as if it were something to look forwards to. Another thing Nary and Gypsy had given her.

  “Almond milk.” Kelsey smiled and buried her face in Nary’s shoulder, trying to keep from laughing at the randomness of Nary’s mind. Pretending to be offended, Nary scoffed. “What? It’s a good phrase. I can work that into anything. Like…I could ask what you would have for lunch, Kelsey? And you could say something like kale salad, or—” She paused for dramatic effect, her arms giving a smaller squeeze around Kelsey’s ribs. “—you could say almond milk. If it’s the one, I’ll know it’s all good with you, and if it’s the other? Well, it would have me forcing Saxon on a plane before you could snap your fingers.”

  Kelsey angled her head so her mouth was next to Nary’s ear, keeping her voice quiet as she asked for clarification. “Almond milk?”

  “Yes.” Nary’s response was firm, so certain that Kelsey knew what she said next would get the response she most wanted.

  “Almond milk is just…” She let her words hang there for a moment, then finished, fighting to keep from laughing. I want to laugh, she thought with amazement. I really do. “I-It’s actually nut juice.”

  Nary froze, and then her laughter started low and built, gathering happiness and delight along the way until by the time Saxon and Gypsy heard her, it was full-on filled to the brim with joy, exactly as Kelsey intended. It felt like only a moment later they both looked up at Saxon’s shrill whistle, signaling an end to their goodbyes.

  “You-you’re only permitted to think of k-kale salad,” Kelsey whispered as Nary pulled away.

  “But, you’re my nut juice,” Nary returned, her voice softly affectionate, warming Kelsey’s belly.

  Kelsey looked around to find Gypsy standing at her back, the position emphasizing all his promises. Last night, during the going-away party the Hawks threw for them, he had only been farther than an arm’s length away when she asked for it. Unlike with everyone else, when it was Gypsy in her personal space, she didn’t feel crowded or nervous. He made her feel confident and secure. Even without thinking about it, she knew her shoulders were back farther when he was close by, her head held a little higher. And, as Mena had pointed out more than once, he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. Even now, with his long hair up in a man-bun and his jaw clenched in a stoic expression, his beauty was breathtaking.

  She turned back to see Saxon had gripped the waist of Nary’s jeans, pulling her away from Kelsey. Warmth bloomed across the skin of her back as Gypsy fitted himself to her form and she felt the firm pressure of his arm around her waist, drawing her against him. He did this a lot, and not only when she was nervous. She thought sometimes he didn’t even know when he did it, having seen his surprised look when he’d realized she was close to his side, his arm around her waist or shoulders.

  Heat crept up her cheeks as she blushed, remembering him doing it even in his sleep, too. He was so strong it seemed to take him no effort at all to drag her across the mattress if she got too far away from him, bringing her back in line with his barely-clad body. She’d wake to find him draped across her, the hot and hard pipe of his privates pressed against her butt. She liked it. Liked it more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. That was one of the best things about Gypsy, nothing about him made her think of any other man. He was just…Gypsy. Always.

  And he’d vowed to keep her safe. Told her he’d be worried sick about her if she wasn’t with him. Wanted her to go home with him. Promised it would be her home, too.

  There was nothing left to keep her here. No blood family, not anymore. Remembering Baxter’s dismissive words made her shudder, muscles shaking all along her frame. Gypsy’s arm tightened, and he wrapped himself right around her, chin to the top of her head. He’d said he wouldn’t leave her, and this was him making truth out of his words. Nary was her best friend, but they both knew the healing to be done couldn’t happen while they leaned on each other like they’d been doing. Time to make my own way.

  Once in the taxi, she turned on her knees to wave out the back window, only stopping when Gypsy’s hand settled on her back, pressing firmly as he said, “Darlin’, it’s time to look forwards.” His words held more meaning than he realized and as she turned around to place her butt to the seat, she nodded. It was time to look beyond what had happened to her, and seize the opportunity Gypsy was so generously offering. He was here with her, and for now that was enough. I just have to be brave. Taking a breath, she reached out and placed her hand palm-down on his thigh. He seemed to understand her need for a connection and covered her hand with his, fitting his fingers through to curve around and cover her palm, too.

  “It’s…it’s going to be okay.” His fingers squeezed tight at her words, and she smiled as she took another breath, holding it deep to strengthen her resolve. Blowing air out slowly, she told him, “I-I’m going to be okay.”

  “You are, darlin’. Promise.” How can he sound so certain? As if he’d heard her internal doubts, he answered. “Because you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. Smart, and you feel things down to the bottom of your soul. And everything you feel you give back to the person. Love and trust. And when you do that, it gets bigger. Every pass, it’s bigger. You can’t be anything other than okay with that much love and trust inside you. Promise.”

  I hope he’s right.

  The airport appeared, seen in the distance through the taxi’s windows and she gulped, her belly suddenly rolling.

  I really truly hope he’s right.

  After Oz

  Gypsy

  Gypsy stood in the doorway to his darkened bedroom, watching as Kelsey stirred in her sleep, the blankets twisted around her legs. Restless and off-center, she’d been more withdrawn since landing in the US a week ago. Even with his reassurances on the quality of the work that went into crafting her identity, the anxiety she experienced had been palpable as they went through customs. Thank God the agents let
them approach the booth together as a married couple. That was how Gypsy had Myron set her up. She was now Kelsey Cherilyn Tatum, wife of Douglas Sonny Tatum, which gave him every chance to keep her close to him. That’s exactly how he wanted it, her close to him. Always.

  She didn’t have any idea what a departure this was for him. To Kelsey, the man she called Gypsy had burst into her world fully formed only a few weeks ago. No baggage, no history, no mystery to who he was. He simply was Gypsy to her. She hadn’t asked about his past, and he hadn’t offered. It might seem odd for a woman to be so invested in a man without knowing anything about him, but then Kelsey’s life hadn’t exactly been normal up to this point.

  She sighed and rolled to her side facing him, and he watched as in her sleep, Kelsey fitted her palms together and tucked them underneath her cheek. She looked like a sleeping angel, hands folded in unconscious prayer, and he allowed his gaze to skate along her cheek, move across her face, taking in every inch of her.

  So damned beautiful.

  Kelsey lay quietly for a few minutes, then her neck jerked, pulling her head backwards on the pillow, dark hair shifting to spread across in a veil. One hand, then the other came out, fingers spread wide and then contracting, clutching at the sheets. One of the damn dreams was pursuing her again, and he couldn’t stand to see it. A beauty like her destroyed by a rancid son of a bitch now buried in a prison back in Oz. “Bastard got off way too fucking easy,” Gypsy muttered, shoving away from the doorframe to walk towards the bed.

  Stoke had promised Gypsy it was the worst punishment they could give the man, having made a mute out of him so he couldn’t talk, they’d branded Baxter a child molester. In Oz, as in the US, that was a prison death sentence. He might be dead even now, but his legacy lived on in Kelsey as Gypsy stood and watched her fight demons in her sleep.