by Debra Kayn
It wasn't her that Cal wanted. He'd wanted Celia.
Maybe if he would've gotten help or talked to a therapist, he could've worked through his problems. Curley had shot him to protect her, and if he hadn't, it might've been her who'd killed him. She understood. Now, she had to accept what had happened.
She hoped Curley could, too.
The sun had descended over the ridge, casting shade on the field, though it would be daylight for a few more hours. All the wildflowers had closed their blooms, resting until the sun shined on them again, when they'd show their full beauty.
Plants were much like people; her Grandma June would say. Most start out as nothing, but with love and care, they'd grow and bloom. Loneliness and neglect would kill them.
"There are things I want." Curley rubbed the end of his cigarette between his fingers and pocketed the butt.
She pressed her lips against his back, wanting to hear all his dreams. Focusing on him helped her concentrate on what was important to her.
"I always dreamed of you having greenhouses out here, filled with flowers that were alive and colorful, like you." As quickly as he stopped, he continued. "I'd ride home from the clubhouse, grab a beer, and sit on the deck watching you with your hands in the dirt and your ass in the air."
Her stomach fluttered, imagining doing that for him.
It wasn't the first time he'd brought up her starting the nursery here. She wasn't opposed to it. It would be a dream for her, too.
She was lost in what would happen. Grandma June's house needed to sell. The insurance company still hadn't paid her for the loss of her business.
The cords on his back tightened. "Faye?"
"Hm?"
"Cal Williams wasn't the first man I've killed," he said.
She pressed her forehead against his back and closed her eyes. "I don't want to know."
"Within Tarkio...things happen."
It was hard enough to face what Uncle Walker had done to take him away from her. She couldn't fathom losing Curley. Whatever he'd done, for whatever reason, that was in the past. He would never hurt her. She trusted him more than she trusted herself.
"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath. "I never wanted you to know. I thought I was protecting you, and I've only been protecting myself."
"After what you did for me. I'd never tell anyone." She circled him, stopping in front of him. "You don't have to say more."
Curley stared over her head, refusing to look at her.
She fisted his vest and tried to shake him. "Hey, I love you. Nothing is going to change that. Nothing."
He looked down. The torment in his eyes warned her something else was going on.
"Faye, your uncle, wasn't responsible for killing the two Cusclan members," he said.
Her head came back, and she studied him. Her glimmer of hope at getting Uncle Walker back had her grasping for justice. "He's innocent?"
"For those crimes, yes."
She blew out her breath. "We need to tell someone. They-they could give him a retrial, or you can provide evidence, proving his inno—"
"I killed them."
The little strength she held on to disappeared. She swayed back on the heels of her feet. Staring at Curley, she wondered if she knew anything about him, or if everything was a lie.
Chapter 39
Curley
Priest stood in the back room of Promise. Curley closed the door. It was the first chance he'd had to talk about telling Faye the truth behind her uncle's incarceration.
"She knows." He kept his hand on the door, aware that if the information got out to the wrong person, more lives than his would go down for the crimes.
"What is she going to do?" Priest looked at him, not even questioning what they were talking about or why he'd break club code and drag his old lady into something that only belonged within Tarkio.
This crime. This business. It involved Faye, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. He believed she was better off knowing.
He loved her. And he had to give her the option to walk away from him if that's what she wanted.
"I don't know." He looked toward the other room, even though he couldn't see Faye working the tables on her first day back to work. "She's...calm. I keep expecting her to blow up and let me know what she thinks about me now, but she hasn't done anything. She also isn't talking much. It's like she's gone from the shock of Cal's death, straight to protecting herself from the ramifications of what I confessed."
"I've been there." Priest exhaled harshly. "If it was Nicole, I probably would've told her. This is a hard life. We keep most of what we do away from those we love the most, for their own good, but living a lie can wear on a person."
Curley met his gaze. "I'm tired, Prez."
"You'll do what you need to do to protect the club."
He understood what Priest was telling him. He'd said the same thing to many of the Tarkio members at their breaking point.
He also knew he wouldn't allow Faye to go to the authorities or let the information slip to anyone else. Knowing that he was responsible for what she decided to do burned a hole in his stomach. It was the reason why he'd sworn never to tell her.
The personal war between club and love viciously played out, and he was a casualty.
"Why don't you take her home." Priest crossed his arms. "Faye needs you, not the bar or her friends."
"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's probably for the best if she's away from here."
In the main room, halfway to Faye, Paco stopped him. "Walker called the clubhouse and wants to know what the fuck is going on?"
"Have him talk to Priest." He pushed past Paco and caught Faye as she was heading toward the customers.
The hell if he was going to allow her to discuss what he'd told her with Walker before talking to him about how she was feeling.
"We're going home." He ushered her toward the back to grab her purse.
She put her feet down, refusing to move. "I'm staying. I want to work."
"No. You're not." He pulled her until she had no other option than to walk with him. "Hurry and get your stuff."
She rounded on him in the back room. "So, you're still making decisions that affect my life?"
Verbally slapped, he glared. "You've got two minutes to get outside and be ready to ride."
Leaving her to follow through, he walked out the back door. He'd had enough of her silence at home, and he had enough of her mouth right now. They were going to settle things tonight.
He wanted to see her expressing herself through her eyes. Laughing with a burst of amusement at his stubbornness. Coming undone, wild and untamed, underneath him. Damnit, he wanted something more from her that would tell him he hadn't fucked up.
She came out of the bar ten minutes later. He bet she stalled to piss him off.
Starting the engine, he sat the bike as she climbed on behind him. She shoved her purse into his back and wrapped her arms around him. It was at the forefront of his mind to rip the purse off her and toss it to the side, but he would give her the poke toward him if it meant she sat the bike for the mile it took to get home.
He parked in the driveway. She refused to get off.
Hauling his ass off the Harley, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He ignored her screams. There were no neighbors close enough to hear her. If she wanted to shout to the world how much she hated him, she might as well get it out of her system.
He managed to get the door unlocked and opened with one hand, then strode inside, kicking the door shut. Plopping her on the couch, he stepped back and took off his vest, set his pistol on the coffee table, and removed his shirt.
She sat perched on the sofa like a time bomb ready to go off. That was the Faye he was used to. The girl who gave as good as she got. The girl who never let anyone beat her down. The girl who'd dragged herself off the floor more times than anyone should, and came out stronger. The girl who swore she loved him more than anything else.
He po
unded his chest with his fist. "The vest is gone. It's only me standing here. If you want to hit me, have at it. If you want to scream, bring it on. I know what I've fucking done to you, Faye. I know what I've done to Walker. There's nothing you can do or say that I haven't beaten myself up about doing. As many times as I've tried to switch places with Walker, and take the punishment, your uncle won't let me. When the Feds came at him with the charges, he protected me, and they pinned the crimes on him. When he left you to serve time, he was the one who made me swear on my life to always take care of you, to protect you. Somewhere along the way, I stopped taking care of you for him. I was doing it for me. So, if you can't accept what I've done, that's on you, Faye, because you will always, always be my old lady."
She flew off the couch. He had no time to brace for her jumping on him. Wrapping his arms around her, he took her kiss and gave it back to her.
His adrenaline soared. His emotions hovered on the surface. His heart pounded.
Faye squirmed against him, squeezing any air out from between their bodies. He gave her his tongue. She drew him deeper into her mouth.
She tasted like a new beginning. She tasted like forgiveness.
He cupped her ass, holding her against his cock. Carrying her, he walked until he had her up against the wall, no way of escaping. He thrust up against her, wanting nothing between them.
She moaned. Her fingers dug into his scalp. She wasn't going to let him go.
She had nothing to worry about. He only wanted closer.
Using the wall, he held her in place while he worked at getting her shirt off. Impatient, he set her on her feet and went straight to stripping every article of clothing off her body.
Faye panted, jumping from one foot to the other, helping him remove her clothes. As soon as she was stripped bare, he went for his belt.
"Wait," she shouted.
His head came up. His blood roared in his head. He refused to blink. Nothing would stop him from having her.
Chapter 40
Faye
Curley's lips parted. Faye gulped, surprised at her outburst. Her thoughts scattered the second she opened her mouth. All she wanted to do was go back to kissing him, but there were things she needed to say.
His gaze intensified. She stepped forward, placing her hands on his chest, glancing at the necklaces hanging from his neck that was as much a part of the man as was his Harley.
"I don't understand how Uncle Walker can end up in prison for something he wasn't responsible for or how you were driven to kill two people. I can't begin to imagine the circumstances, but I do know you. I also know situations can turn bad quickly, and if it was choosing between losing your life or killing someone else, I'm glad you're alive because I don't think I could face a day without you."
Dizzy with the outburst and finally getting everything out that had weighed heavily on her mind since he'd told her the truth about Uncle Walker's incarceration, tears welled up in her eyes.
"Despite the horrific outcome, Uncle Walker is alive. Someday, he'll have his freedom back, and he'll be a part of my day-to-day life." She swallowed through the lump of emotions, constricting her throat. "I will also have you. If you still want me."
"There was never any question." He unzipped his jeans.
She kneeled in front of him, unlacing his boots. Straightening, she took in the sight of him, stripping all his clothes off. She crossed her arms to rub the goosebumps off her skin. Like him, his cock stood proud and dominating, intent on one thing.
He held out his hand. For how violent and desperate they'd felt arriving home, the opposite happened.
His touch softened. His breathing slowed.
Her body quivered. Her stomach warmed.
She slipped her hand in his and found herself shaking with how much she loved him.
Pulling her close, he raised her hands above her head and held them in one of his. With his free hand, he circled her breast with his finger. His gaze locked on her chest. Her nipple hardened under his command, the thrill traveling up her spine.
Holding still, letting him touch her, she watched him. He always looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. She felt loved and cherished. Wanted.
He backed her up to the wall, pinning her hands above her head. Her stomach fluttered, knowing how he liked her in that position, knowing she couldn't get away.
And, because he had to hold her, he couldn't leave.
He leaned in and kissed her neck, working his way to her mouth. Hovering in front of her face, he held back from kissing her.
"We'll make it right," he whispered. "We'll go together to talk to Walker."
Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't love him more.
He slid his hand between her legs, widening her thighs. That first smooth caress against her clit rolled throughout her body. She curled her hands into fists. Her fingernails dug into her skin. It was so easy for him to touch her. It was excruciating not to touch him back.
Yet, selfish. Wonderfully selfish to admit that she craved his touch and never wanted him to stop.
He teased her mouth with his lips as his finger caressed her clit on the left side of the small nub. It hadn't taken him long to figure out what drove her crazy and heightened her orgasm.
Her core tightened, and she thrust her hips forward with his movements. She brought her leg up, trying to hook it around him. Her body craved his cock. She wanted him to fill her. Make her feel the strength of him.
He moved his head, putting his lips on her ear. "You want me?"
"Yes." She cried out, arching her back, trying to get closer. "Please."
"I'm going to make you shout, so the whole damn world can hear my name from your lips."
She nodded eagerly.
He lowered her hands, letting go, and quickly turned her around. Guiding her hips, he brought her ass closer, leaned her forward, and raised each of her arms, planting her palms against the wall in front of her.
"Don't move." He trailed his hand down her spine, following the line of her vertebra, all the way to her tailbone. His rough finger slid through her wetness.
Her back arched as if her body knew what she wanted. She stared at the wall, anticipating where he'd touch her next, and he slid his finger in her pussy.
Time lost all meaning. She was the tiniest seed, growing at a rapid pace into a vibrant flower.
He removed his finger and replaced it with the tip of his cock. Holding her hips, he plunged into her hard enough, she went up on her toes. Her head came back, and she moaned.
Even her hips moved against him in like-minded rhythm.
She responded to the hard, grinding plunges with an urgency of her own. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, she lowered her head between her arms.
His cock stroked and hit the sensitive erogenous zone deep inside of her and pulled a gasp from her.
Again, and again.
"Curley." Her fingers curled on the wall, and her arms shook. "I can't. I can't."
He pulled out of her and turned her around. Relief swept down her arms, and she reached up, sliding her hands around his neck. He gripped her waist and lifted her. Facing him, she hooked her legs around his hips.
Shards of pleasure split off inside of her, filling each limb as he settled her on his hardness. Capturing his mouth, she made love to his tongue.
A light sheen of sweat coated his back. Her grip on him slipped.
He took her down to the floor. She bucked underneath him, biting into his shoulder. The slight taste of salt coiled her insides. Her pussy squeezed down on him.
"Oh, God." She rhythmically thrust up, moving her hips, climbing higher.
He grunted. She strained. Both of them moaning, grabbing, pulling, pushing—doing their best to crawl inside of each other.
Her heart lurched. Caught in the grasp of her climax, she couldn't stop.
Curley pushed up to his hands and lengthened his strokes inside of her, grinding against her when he hit the end, only to pull back
and start over.
His gaze fluttered between her breasts and her eyes. She whimpered, losing control.
"Scream it." He grunted.
The prominent slap of their skin played for her ears. As if drugged, she left her body as her orgasm coiled and unraveled.
"Cur..." Her whole body convulsed, suspending her in time. "...ley."
He buried himself in her and groaned. His shudder rocked her body.
It was the most beautiful, peaceful feeling to ever overcome her. She pulled him down on top of her and held him. Welcoming his weight, she closed her eyes.
"I love you," she whispered.
He lifted his head, framing her head with his hands. "Never doubt that I love you."
Chapter 41
Curley
Faye clung to his hand. Curley squeezed her fingers, watching the door. They'd already waited an hour in the holding room to find out if Walker would see them, and if the prison would allow them both to come back at the same time to visit.
The rules posted on the wall permitted two people back at a time. Though he knew from experience that none of the Tarkio members on the outside would ever be allowed to go inside in pairs.
Rules meant shit. If the higher-ups wanted to stop visits, they'd find an excuse not to let him in.
He hoped for Faye's sake, they'd let a female in with him.
They'd already agreed back at the house if only one person gained access to Walker, it would be him. It was important to Faye that he and Walker talk.
The door opened. A male guard with a clipboard scanned the room. "Carl Albright. Faye Walker."
Faye glanced at him, probably taken back by the use of his real name. He shielded his reaction, not wanting his road name used within the building, and brought Faye forward with him.
She looked forward to the visit and led the way as they walked through the long hallway. It would be the first time in sixteen years that all three of them would come face to face together.
