Eternal Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 6)

by Janine Infante Bosco

  The priest continues to talk, taking a break for oxygen here and there while Reina hangs on his every word. The doctors I ditched stand close by, once this marriage is official I’ll make them play with my back and these burns some more, but for now they can stand there and wait for me to collapse in pain. Blackie pats my shoulder and I turn to him to see him holding Reina’s ring.

  Talk about signs.

  That yellow diamond weathered a bomb.

  It almost makes me want to be a believer.

  I take the ring from his hand and look back at Reina. This isn’t my first rodeo and I vaguely remember the words I’m supposed to say when I slide the ring on her finger. The priest is instructing me on what to say but I don’t even try to read his lips.

  Instead, I go with what’s inside. I speak from the heart and give her my solemn vow.

  “You.”

  I say as I slide the ring onto her finger and stare into the eyes of the woman that saved my soul and my mind. The woman who holds my future. The woman this heart beats for.

  “Me,” she replies.

  Nothing else matters.

  It’s that moment when we become Mr. and Mrs. Jack Parrish and I become property of Sunshine. Deciding I don’t need a priest to give me permission to kiss my wife, I fight through the pain in my back and lean over the rail of the bed to press my lips to hers.

  It’s not perfect, nowhere close, but in a Jack and Reina way it is.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  On the ride back to his parents’ house in Martha’s Vineyard, I lay my head on Riggs’ shoulder and he threads his fingers through my long hair. The last twenty-four hours have been a nightmare, making us relive a memory we are so desperate to forget. I watched as Riggs he stood by helplessly waiting for someone, anyone, to tell him what was going on with the men he called his brothers. It was a glimpse of the Riggs that suffered when I was in a coma and our son was fighting for his life. For me it was a little different, I don’t remember much after I was shot but I learned how much I don’t like being on the sidelines, how much I don’t like sitting in a hospital waiting to find out if the people in our lives survived. All I kept thinking was how lucky we were to have escaped that bomb. I don’t know who decided we would be hiding out in Martha’s Vineyard with Riggs’ parents but whoever was responsible would always hold my gratitude.

  I spent a good part of my life worrying about my brother’s well-being, wondering when the day would come that he’d be a victim and not a survivor. It sucked, and I never understood why Adrianna stuck with him. How could she live life worrying if the man she loved would live or die the moment he stepped out the door? Then I met Riggs, and I understood. As crazy as it sounds, loving Riggs is worth living in fear. I can’t imagine my life without him and as much as it kills me to know that as long as he has the reaper on his back he’ll always have a price tag on his head, I wouldn’t trade him for all the straight and narrow guys in the world.

  “Kitten, you’re thinking too loud,” he murmurs.

  I lift my head from his shoulder and stare at his face, watching as he looks at me with one eye.

  “We’re almost there,” he says, folding his hands behind his head as he tips his chin toward the driver his parents sent for us. “You’ll get a dose of Eric and everything will be right with the world.”

  “What happens now?”

  I watch as he opens his eyes, stares straight ahead and filters through the truth and what he can actually admit.

  “Now, you and Eric will stay with my parents,” he states.

  “You’re not staying with us?” I torture us both by asking the question he doesn’t want to answer and the one I already know the answer to.

  “Kitten, you saw what I saw, the club needs all capable hands on deck. I want you and Eric back home with me in our little apartment, filling the front of our fridge with pictures of him and sonogram pictures of that little pea inside you. But I won’t do that unless I know it’s safe, and knowing means seeing, it means doing it myself with my own hands and mind.”

  “I get it,” I say softly as he turns his gaze and assesses my features to see if my words are truthful. “I don’t like it,” I add. “But I get it and I’ll go along with whatever you think is right for now but you have to promise me something.”

  “Anything,” he replies quickly.

  “You’ll stay safe. You’ll think before you act and when you feel like jumping into the line of fire, remember me and our babies and take two steps back. Bones isn’t going along for the ride; he won’t be there to step in front of a bullet, he’s not here to make sure our little family stays intact. It’s all on us now.”

  “I promise you,” he says, throwing an arm around me and pulling me closer to him. “You’re pretty fond of your Tiger aren’t you, Kitten?”

  I shake my head as I clutch his leather jacket with my fingers.

  “Fond doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I admit. “I love you, Riggs. I finally understand what you went through after the shooting. When I first woke up and I looked into your eyes I couldn’t explain what I saw reflected at me, but after sitting in that waiting room tonight with you and feeling helpless as we watched our friends and family being brought in with all those injuries, I tried to imagine how you felt. I put myself in your shoes and I don’t think I could do it. I couldn’t sit beside you and beg God to let me have you. I couldn’t look at Eric and wonder how I’d raise him without you. I need you, Riggs, I need you to keep me believing that dreams come true because no dream is worth having if you’re not in them,” I whisper.

  He moves his hands up to my face and drags my mouth down to his, kissing me softly at first before his lips and tongue turn into a frenzy of desperation.

  “Luckiest guy in the world,” he mutters against my mouth. “I love you, Lauren Bianci,” he adds, pulling back his mouth to stare at me as I push my black-rimmed glasses onto the bridge of my nose. A smile spreads across his face and he winks at me. “I’m so fucking glad they chose me to kidnap mama Bianci.”

  I roll my eyes and try not to laugh as he wraps his arms around my waist.

  “Hey,” he says, tipping my chin with his index finger. “I will be fine and you know what we’re doing as soon as this whole thing is over?”

  “Well you can’t say make a baby,” I tease.

  “You’re going to marry me,” he says confidently.

  “Oh yeah? You’re going to make an honest woman out of me?”

  “Yeah, I am,” he agrees, then furrows his brow.

  “What is it?”

  “We can’t be Mr. and Mrs. Tiger,” he mutters, actually looking scorned.

  “No, babe, we can’t. It would be Montgomery,” I say, holding back the chuckle as I lift the knit beanie from his head and run my fingers through his hair. “Is that such a bad thing?”

  He glances out the window as the limo pulls up in front of the mini mansion.

  “I guess not,” he murmurs. “Let’s go see our boy.”

  The driver opens the door and Riggs slides out of the limo first, holding out his hand for me and together we walk to the front door. He raps his knuckles against the large oak door and rings the bell like an annoying child, laughing to himself as his mother calls from somewhere in the house that she’s coming.

  I glance over at him, studying his strong profile and while it’s still a mystery as to why he is not wearing a suit and tie, walking in his father’s shoes instead of the leather boots of a Satan’s Knight, I wouldn’t change a thing about the colorful man who I’m in love with. He’s eccentric as the day is long but he’s got tons of heart.

  The door opens and I watch Riggs’ eyes widen in shock before the laugh escapes his mouth and I let my eyes travel the path of his and my mouth drops open.

  Lenore is standing at the door with a naked Eric on her hip, spaghetti in her hair and tomato sauce splattered across her white silk shirt. My baby grins widely, displaying his top tooth
as he snuggles against his grandma. I extend my hands, expecting Lenore to throw Eric into them like he’s a fireball but instead she wraps her arms tightly around him and laughs.

  It’s a laugh that resonates through her eyes. She winks at me before settling her eyes on her son and I can’t help following her gaze. Riggs’ laughter subsides, but the smile stays planted on his lips as he crosses his arms and nods in appreciation.

  “Well played, Eric. Well played,” he whispers and then surprises both me and his mother when he leans forward to kiss Eric’s cheek but plants a pec on his mother’s first.

  Robert ‘Riggs’ Montgomery is the complete package.

  Colorful.

  Eccentric.

  Full of heart.

  After spending quality time with Eric and Lauren, making sure they’re settled before I leave, I search the house for my father. I tell myself it’s because I’m entrusting my old man with my family, I’m giving him my most prized possessions and he needs to know that’s a big fucking deal. It’s bigger than his millions, his mansions, it’s more than any oil rig.

  I stand at the doorway of his office, listening as he speaks with one of his employees.

  “Everything goes,” my old man says.

  “Where are you going to conduct business?” The employee questions.

  “I’m not worried about it and neither should you. Now, make sure it’s all cleared out by the end of the week. Get the contractors here to paint as soon as possible.” He pauses and I watch from the door as he strokes his jaw in concentration. “Something neutral, in case my new grandbaby is a girl. I want them both to be comfortable.”

  “Very well Mr. Montgomery.”

  “Yellow or green,” my dad decides. “And maybe we can get animals painted on the walls. I want it bright and cheerful.”

  “Whatever you wish.”

  Stepping into the room, I knock on the door and watch as my father’s lackey sizes me up, his eyes gawking as they take in my worn boots, ripped jeans and the tatts decorating my arms. I walk to him, take the phone out of his hands and flip the camera, lifting my middle finger I smile and take the selfie before handing the phone back to him.

  “That should hold you over. Don’t jack off to it though, that shit’s just wrong,” I say purposely as his eyes bulge out of his head and his mouth drops to the floor.

  “Arnold that will be all for today,” my father says, dismissing the jaw slacker.

  “Don’t post that shit on Facebook and shit. Kim K may have broken the internet with her ass but people are dying to get their hands on the Tiger. You’ll destroy the internet with that bad boy,” I tell him as I take a seat on top of the mahogany desk.

  I chuckle as Arnold hurries out of the office and my old man crosses his arms and looks at me bemused.

  “You love to bust chops don’t you?”

  It’s more of a statement than a question so I shrug my shoulders and glance down at the desk.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear you tell him to clear this place out,” I begin, taking a stress ball off the blotter on his desk and squeezing it in the palm of my hand.

  “Yes, well, your mother and I were talking and we want a place for the kids to feel comfortable when they visit.”

  “What’s going on with you two?”

  “Your mother and I?”

  I nod as he shrugs his shoulders and walks toward the French doors and looks out toward the pool.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure. It started off as two parents banding together to get in touch with their only child and now, well, I suppose I’m becoming reacquainted with the woman I first met.” He turns to face me. “I didn’t realize how much I missed her or the early years of our marriage, but watching her with your son has reminded me of all the things we wanted when I first met her. Money ruined us. It’s funny, most people think money will solve all their problems yet money caused all of ours.”

  I watch as he pauses for a moment and steps around the desk and opens the top drawer producing a framed photograph. He walks back around and stands in front of me, staring down at the picture before handing it to me.

  I thought seeing my mom with a smile and Eric on her hip shocked me but the photograph in the frame completely throws me, mind fucking me as I make out the young faces of my parents standing in front of a Harley.

  “You’re shitting me!” I accuse, lifting my eyes to his.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about your parents, Robert,” he smirks.

  “Clearly,” I reply, averting my eyes back to the photograph. “Were you part of a club?”

  “No,” he says with a chuckle. “Not for lack of trying though,” he adds, taking the photograph from my hand and standing it upright on his desk. “I understand you better than you think I do.”

  “Maybe,” I say finally. “I’m heading out and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. There are some things that need to be taken care of back home. My club needs me and in order for me to bring my family back home I need to concentrate on making them safe again.”

  My father nods his head in understanding.

  “Lauren and Eric will be safe here,” he assures me.

  “Promise me,” I plead.

  “I swear it,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. “They’re our family now too.”

  “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  Holding his gaze, I can spot the sincerity in his voice.

  “Can I ask for something in return?”

  A couple of days ago I would’ve rolled my eyes but I find myself nodding and waiting for him to speak.

  “Stay safe, son,” he hoarsely asks of me.

  I raise an eyebrow as his eyes plead with mine and for the first time since they showed up on my doorstep I actually start to think about him and my mom having a place in my life, in my family. I think of the future and I can see them fitting in.

  “Haven’t you heard? Safety is my middle name,” I say, sliding off the desk before I return the gesture and pat him on the back. “Just ask, Kitten.”

  He chuckles as I start for the door with a smile on my face. Reaching the hall, I turn and glance over my shoulder at my dad. He leans against the desk, mimicking the stance he held in that old photograph and I smile at him.

  “Thanks, Dad,” I call before striding down the hallway, confident Lauren and Eric will be just fine here. My parents may have made a bunch of mistakes throughout my childhood but I couldn’t deny the change in them and how genuine their newfound love for their grandson was.

  My phone rings, pulling me away from my thoughts and I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer the call.

  “The Tiger speaking,” I answer.

  “You take care of the family?” Blackie asks.

  “Yeah, they’re good,” I reply, closing the door behind me and stepping toward the car waiting for me. “I’m on my way back,” I tell him as I climb into the car.

  I stare out the window at the house that holds my family until the limo drives away from the safe haven and whisks me away to Hell.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Three days later I got a call from Jones giving me a heads up that Brantley was sniffing around the clubhouse—whatever the fuck was left of it. Technically, it was a crime scene, and we weren’t allowed passed the compound gates but after a call to the club attorney I got us access. The nomads were living at the clubhouse before the explosion, everything they fucking owned was inside and if anything could be salvaged they needed to get to it. Poor bastards came to Brooklyn, got their shit blown to bits, and their asses thrown in some fleabag motel. Stryker got off easy doing a bid in prison, poor Linc needed six surgeries, a metal rod put in his back and fuck if I know how many screws, pins and bolts to keep his fucking spine intact.

  Pulling my truck into the compound, I pass the glass enclosure, still splattered with Mack’s blood, and the gruesome reminder we’ll be burying him tomo
rrow. Disgusted, I throw it into park and climb out before stopping in my tracks and staring at the damage.

  The yellow caution tape obnoxiously stares back at me, taunting me, reminding me how fucking hopeless this whole thing is. Jack’s out for the count, leaving this shit on my shoulders, and I don’t know where to begin. This attack differed from the others. This wasn’t anywhere close to the shootout at Pops’ gun range, or the sneak attack drive-by that pussy, Wu, played on us. The Bastards left us in ruins, without a home, half our club in the hospital, some in the morgue and all our bikes blown to smithereens.

  Tearing down the tape, I climb over the rubble and debris and stand in the center of what used to be the Dog Pound. I bend down, pushing aside pieces of glass and Sheetrock and pull the corner of a tattered American flag to the surface.

  “Yo, Blackie’s here,” Deuce calls out, forcing me to divert my eyes away from the flag in my hands to the three men walking toward me.

  Stryker, Deuce and Cobra look similar to the way they did after the bomb exploded—sans the blood—covered in dust, dirt and soot. I watch as something flashes over Stryker as his eyes drift down to the flag I was holding.

  “Think this belongs to you.” I offer the flag.

  “Shit,” he mutters, taking the worn fabric from my hands, running his fingers over the stars and stripes. Lifting his head, he nods in appreciation. “This flag survived Afghanistan and now this. It’s indestructible,” he says thoughtfully, folding it expertly into a triangle, like they do at a soldier’s memorial. Tucking the final corner away he hands it back to me. “Fix this shit, Black and show every motherfucker from here to the West Coast the Satan’s Knights of Brooklyn are just as resilient as that flag.”

  “Deep shit, bro,” Deuce comments.

  “And if that’s not enough incentive,” Cobra begins as he glances over his shoulder. “There’s a man hurtin’ over there that is desperate to make that message clear.”