One squeeze of Tugboat’s hand had her feeling as safe as Gypsy’s arms, and she knew this man would never let anyone hurt her. It was a struggle, but she brought her racing breath under control, trying to find the tranquility inside her. Gypsy leaned close, heat from his body so familiar now she always missed it when he wasn’t near. His arm slipped around her shoulders and with a hand to the side of her head, tipped her cheek to his chest.
“Darlin’.” The single word carried a weight of concern and care, and she sagged against him, knowing he would catch her.
“I-I’m sorry.” I ruin everything.
Tugboat released her hand after giving her a final squeeze. Eyes closed, she listened to him rising from the chair. “Gonna get her a warmup.” Her cup clinked against the edge of her plate. “Take a minute, Gypsy. Take care of our girl.” She sucked in a hard breath at his words of claiming, and hiccupped as she tried to stifle a sob.
“So,” Gypsy began talking, his voice softer than she’d heard it in a while. “You had a good dream? Wanna tell me about it?”
“I-I.” She stopped, trying to force her tongue to do what she wanted. “I did.” Finally. “I dreamed about muh-my—” Darn it. “My brother.”
Gypsy grew still, but his voice remained soft, coaxing the story out of her. “Your brother? That’s a good memory, huh?”
She nodded, the fabric of his shirt slick under her cheek. It was weird, having her hand stretched out on the empty table without Tugboat’s to anchor her, so she brought it back and rested it in her lap. Gypsy touched the back of her hand, one finger tracing down the length of her finger and back up, drawing a small circle on her wrist before traveling back down, and up. Down and up.
“A good memory.” Eyes still closed, she listened to Tugboat futzing around in the kitchen and loved him so much for giving her and Gypsy these moments alone. We’re alone a lot, but this is different. Normally Gypsy would try to pull the stories about Baxter out of her, confident in his belief that if she stifled those memories they’d build up a sick pool in her head that would drown her. This was so good in contrast, she felt light as air for a moment. Like a silly fifteen-year-old again. “He went into the military when I was younger. Oh, Gypsy, I missed him so. Before he joined the service, times were not bad. Mum had divorced my dad, but we were still okay then. He joined, and the minute he was out of the country, she walked away, and I went into fosters. I used to dream he’d come home and bring back prezzies and trinkets from his journeys, and I’d get to sit beside him. I’d make up these great stories of what he and I would do together.” She sighed, nestling closer to Gypsy. “He’s older, obviously, but he was a good big brother to me. I loved him so much.”
“Loved? Did something happen?”
Darker memories threatened. There’d been shouting matches between her mum and brother, never-ending fights which left her feeling helpless. She recalled the sounds and sights of breaking crockery and raised fists, followed by the clearing out of Alan’s things. His absence had fractured her soul so deeply, she wanted to curl in on herself right now just remembering it. “My ’rents had split. His dad was dead. He joined.” She shrugged. “After that, things were different. I never saw Alan or my mum after that.”
“Oh, Kels. That’s tough.”
“Wh-when…” She swallowed and clenched her teeth tightly, mouth slick with spit and bile that welled involuntarily. “Buh-Baxter wanted to ta-try for ransom.” At some point her head had begun shaking back and forth, denying the memories. “Buh-but he laughed and said a girl without family didn’t have a safety net. There was no one to ask, you know? Everyone—” A fully-fledged sob broke from her throat, sounding cracked and fractured to her ears. “Everyone was gone.” Swallowing hard, she licked her lips. “I-I didn’t have anyone to rescue me.” Tipping her head back, she looked up into Gypsy’s face. “Until you came.”
“The dream you had, it was good, though?” He seemed worried and she rushed to reassure him.
“It was.” She blinked tears from her lashes and smiled, and Gypsy’s mouth moved in response, the corners curling up the tiniest bit. “I dreamed he was here with me now, and everything was good.” Shaking her head, she turned to see Tugboat hovering near the door. “Mr. Tugboat, you can come back in. I’m over being mental.” He gave her a grin, and she looked back up at Gypsy. “It felt so real, like I could hear him and everything.” His arms tightened and released, and she turned to face the table again, seeing Tugboat setting down a fresh cup of tea and plate of toast, already cut on the diagonal. “Thank you, Tugboat.”
“You’re always welcome, Miss Kelsey.” His gentle teasing kept the smile on her face and she picked up a triangle of toast, biting off a generous piece. “So, Cali? You in, Kels?”
Hearing Gypsy’s nickname for her from Tugboat, she glanced up to see an amused expression on Gypsy’s face. Without looking away, she shifted the bite of toast to the side, tucking it into her cheek as she told both men, “If you two are with me, I’m definitely ready to travel west.” Swallowing, she lifted her cup and sipped at the tea. With a sigh, she asked, “California is west, right?”
Laughter chased the last of the shadows on Gypsy’s face away and Kelsey experienced a tiny throb of pleasure deep in her belly. I did that.
After her late breakfast, Kelsey retreated to the bedroom, leaving the two men to talk “business” in the kitchen. On a whim, she picked up her tablet and launched the video chat software she and Nary used. It rang so long she had nearly given up on making the connection, and then the icon changed to a picture of…blackness. “Nary?”
Her imagination gave the darkness texture, some areas seeming more shadowed than others. It was as if the device on the other end of the call was moving. “Nary?”
“Shhhhh.” The voice shushing her was definitely Nary’s, so Kelsey waited. A click, then the screen brightened and Nary’s face appeared. Mirrors and a shower behind her marked the location as in the bathroom. “What’s wrong? Is it almond milk? Are you nut juice?”
What’s wrong? “N-no. Not at all. It’s nothing. I-I wanted to talk to you.” Why did something have to be wrong?
Nary squinted at the camera, her gaze flicking to the corner and then back to Kelsey. “It’s too.”
She waited, but nothing else was forthcoming so Kelsey asked, “Too what?”
“What?” Now Nary looked as confused as Kelsey felt.
“It’s too what?”
Nary laughed, covering her face with one hand as she shook her head, hair flying all over the place. “It’s 2:00 a.m. you dingleberry. What’s going on?”
“Oh, crap. I didn’t do the maths for the time. I’m sorry, Nary!” Kelsey rolled her eyes at herself. “I wanted to ask you something and didn’t think. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Forgiven. Now ask whatever it is needs asking, so I can get back to bed.”
“And to Saxon.”
It was Nary’s turn to roll her eyes, but she agreed in an only slightly vexed tone, “And Saxon.”
“Do you think Talon could look up someone for me? Or Melissa?” Nary’s expression smoothed, losing every bit of amusement it had held only a moment ago and Kelsey knew what was going through her mind. “Nuh-no, not for where we…not that.”
“Then what?” Nary’s voice was quiet and careful, a tone she’d used with Kelsey so often it was only now Kelsey recognized it as Nary’s attempt to keep her calm. Ruby doesn’t speak to me like that. Guilt rushed through her veins and she sagged a bit, angry at herself for the thought. Ruby also didn’t live with me through hell.
“I-I have a brother. Alan.”
Nary’s face lit up from inside and she was nodding before Kelsey finished speaking, understanding immediately what Kelsey wanted. “Of course, honey. Talon, Dad, Saxon, and everybody else will be on that as soon as they can. What can you tell me about him?”
“He was in the military. I think Royal Navy, but I’m not certain.”
“How old is he? You said his name
is Alan?”
Kelsey nodded. “Alan, he was eight years older than me. I don’t remember too much, Mum destroyed everything she had to do with him after he left.”
Nary frowned and looked around the bathroom behind her, finding a magazine on the edge of the sink. She grabbed what looked like eyeliner from a basket on a shelf. Tongue in the corner of her mouth, she balanced the tablet behind the faucet, angled so Kelsey could still see her, then sat on the edge of the bath, magazine propped on one leg. Using the eyeliner as a pencil, she scribbled for a minute, then without looking up said, “So we’re looking for anything on an Alan Rye, age thirty-eight give or take a year, military probably navy, but, I’ll have them check the army, too.” Her chin tipped up and she fastened her gaze on Kelsey through the camera. “Question for you, my sweet Kelsey. I know Gypsy has connections, and he knows Melissa, too. He’d do this for you. Why are you asking me?”
Her eyes welled with stinging wet and Kelsey stared hard, willing her tear ducts into submission. Finally under control, she whispered, “Gypsy’s done so much. And he gets troubled when I’m sad. The last I remember hearing about Alan was my mum telling me he was gone.” She sniffed. “Wh-what if she meant he’s dead, Nary?”
“Don’t borrow trouble.” Nary’s mouth set in a stern line and she nodded briskly at her own words. “I don’t think you’re giving Gypsy enough credit, but I’ll be happy to do this for you. We’re sisters, right?” Kelsey nodded, not trusting her voice yet. “And sisters stick together.” Nary waited until Kelsey nodded again. “So that’s what we’re going to do.” Nary yawned, covering her mouth with a hand like she’d done during her giggles, then told Kelsey, “I’m going back to bed. I’ll let you know when we find out anything.”
“Good or bad.” Kelsey needed the promise, and Nary didn’t disappoint.
“Good or bad, it’s all kale salad. We’ll tackle whatever we find out together.” They shared a smile and the call disconnected.
Kelsey cradled the tablet to her chest, going back over her morning. The dream she’d woken from had been so vivid, his voice so clear it was as if he were in the room. Even when she’d woken, the illusion persisted, her mind firmly convinced when she walked out, she’d not only find Gypsy, the man she was coming to love, but also her long-lost brother, Alan.
Traveling West
Gypsy, Two weeks later
Staring down at the display of his ringing phone, something in the back of his brain tickled and then kicked in, tagging the area code as California. Decided, he answered and lifted the device to his ear, and was immediately transported back at least a decade by the voice that spoke. “Tatum, how the hell are ya?”
“Joel, I didn’t expect to hear from you until we got on your patch, man.”
He was answered by laughter, so tired and filled with rough edges much of the humor was lost. “What? I asked for you by name, and you think I’ll leave it up to your president to convey what I need? You shoulda known I’d be calling.”
“Thought you might be, the only reason I answered an unknown.” Gypsy grinned, focusing on Blue Line’s voice as he stared at the wall. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”
“Nah, prolly not the best of ideas. Phones, ya know. When will you be out here?” Made sense, especially if Joel felt they were drawing the kind of scrutiny Mason had alluded to. “Can’t wait to hear all about your path, brother.”
“Undecided, but soon.” He waited for a beat, then asked, “Can you tell me who to contact when we’re on the way?” If their stay were expected to last as long as Gypsy thought was likely, he and whoever went with him would be riding out, not flying. “Hate to roll into town without letting somebody know.”
“You can let me or Moby know.” Digging through his memories, that wasn’t a name he’d heard mentioned, so he questioned.
“Moby?”
“Yeah, my new second.” Interesting. A leadership change hadn’t been mentioned by anyone, which meant it had to be recent. “He’s got ties to the Rebels, actually. Y’all got his uncle under your colors.”
“Oh, yeah? Who’s that?” Could be anyone, but Gypsy would bet money he knew the name that would be coming next.
“Tugboat.” Yeap, I was right.
“He separated from the navy already, then? I knew Tug was hot to come with to help his boy settle. He might not be too hip on you already having done that for him.” Not true, given how Tugboat felt about Blue Line, but it didn’t hurt to keep someone as entrenched in power as Blue Line a bit off center. Gypsy grinned. “Might have some words to say.”
“He can say all he wants. Moby’s a man grown and makes his own decisions. If he picked Malcontents over Rebels, shouldn’t be taken as a swat against the RWMC.” Humor finally flooded Blue Line’s tone. “Might be we’ll woo the rest of you over to my side of the line. You got enough experience under your belt in both worlds now, following the Blue Line wouldn’t be a hardship.”
Laughing loudly, Gypsy choked out, “I can’t wait to see you, asshole.”
“Backatcha. I’ll text you Moby’s info. Give one of us a heads-up when you’re coming into town, and we’ll roll out the red carpet for ya.” A pause, then quiet words. “Got a lot to discuss, brother. Truth. Need you here, so when you ride, ride fast.”
“Will do, on all counts. See you soon.” Gypsy disconnected and stared at the dark screen for a moment before deciding to give Mason the update in person rather than over the phone. “Kels,” he called, knowing even if she’d moved from the couch where he’d seen her last, she would still hear him. “I’m headed to the clubhouse, want to go with me or stay here?”
“Go with,” she responded, coming through the doorway into his bedroom. Our bedroom. She’d slept in here every night since coming to the States. It had become part of his routine to ease from the bed before she woke, taking his rampant erection with him into the shower where he’d jack off to fantasies of her.
Two nights ago, he’d woken from an erotic dream to find his hand down the front of her panties, fingers slowly caressing that so-sensitive flesh, her hips pumping in time. Thank God she’d been asleep during his somnolent groping, or she would have had a well-deserved meltdown. A woman so ill-used by Baxter and his men could never be okay with that behavior, and Gypsy had nearly come unglued at himself, opting to sleep on the couch for the past two nights rather than risk exposing her to a repeat.
Last night she’d gone to bed like normal, but an hour later had been standing at the end of the couch, pretending to watch the show on TV. From the sheer number of times her gaze had glanced to the side where he sat, it hadn’t taken a mind reader to know her real motive for coming out.
“I’ll be in bed in a minute, Kels. I’m just winding down. Long day.” His guilty lie echoed through his head, amplified by the disbelieving look she landed on his face. “Go sleep, darlin’. You need your rest.”
Standing there in a thin nightgown, blue light of the TV hinting at shadows that lay at the cleft between her legs, and under the swell of each breast, Kelsey was a wet dream come true. Chewing her lip, she looked as if she were about to speak and then an expression of resigned disappointment settled on her face and she nodded, turned, and disappeared into the obscuring darkness.
Now, standing before him in the bright light of day, he found her just as frustratingly alluring as last night, and every night since he’d saved her. It was the saving her that had him so tied up in knots, because with all his heart, he believed she would heal and find a way to get beyond what had been done to her, all the terrible things forced on her, with having her choices stripped away. But what if she saw him as a continuation of that stifling imprisonment? Could he live with himself if he allowed something to happen between them and then found the same stoic fear in her eyes? Which would be worse, that, or allowing misplaced hero worship to influence her emotions? Those were his middle-of-the-night doubts, and he hated how they took root, making him second guess everything he’d done so far.
But, she was better every day. He knew it, could see it, and still believed the change of scenery was what both she and Nary needed for healing. So now, we work to take advantage of it, and she eventually won’t need me anymore.
“Wanna ride the bike?” From the light that flared in her eyes, he knew her answer and he smiled, took a step towards her and cupped her cheek in one palm. “You know the drill.” She nodded, pressing against his soft hold before turning towards the bathroom to braid her hair and put on sunscreen. Even wearing a tightly-fitted helmet, her fine hair tangled badly if it wasn’t constrained in another way, something she’d learned on their first ride together. She had suffered through his tentative efforts to help her tame the mess, but he had winced each time the brush hit another knot. She was so fair-skinned the sunscreen was also a must, and he suspected the sensitivity was as much about her going nearly a year without her skin seeing the sun as anything else.
Once seated on the bike, she threaded the fingers of one hand through his belt loops, and cupped the other over his shoulder, pulling herself close against his back. With the rumble and vibration of the motorcycle between his legs, and the feel of her softness all around him, his cock started to fatten, a response which had quickly become familiar. Gypsy closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to will away his erection. Fuck. Could he be wrong to want Kelsey like this? Maybe I need to get laid, he thought, then involuntarily shook his head, just the idea of bedding someone else turning his stomach inside out.
“Ready?” he called back to her, turning his head just as she leaned forwards, her lips grazing the skin of his face next to his mouth. They both froze for an instant, and then she touched him again, those soft lips deliberately ghosting a caress he felt down to his gut, balls drawing up close to his body as if he were about to shoot his load. Fuck.
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