Chapter Sixteen
We rode for hours and hours after breaking our way out of the cornfield that stretched almost to the horizon behind Atin and Vana's house. The furrow we rode on was ass-slamming bumpy, and I'd spent most of that time with my butt off the seat, as my feet held the bulk of my weight on the pegs. By the time we made it to a dirt road, hidden between the fields, my thighs were burning and my arches, even through the soles of my boots, bruised.
But the pain helped keep my mind off the earlier scene I'd created with my innocent question.
We were on the interstate again, my helmeted head pressed into Bay's back as the scenery whipped by us when I felt him fumbling over the console. This bike was much like the first one I'd ridden on with him. Definitely not as comfortable as the pretty blue touring motorcycle he'd purchased in North Platte. The seating on this one required me to again be scrunched up close to him, my arms around his waist.
I felt him twist in order to hand me a spiral cord over his shoulder. As I took it, I saw him point to the bottom right of his helmet, which had a similar cable attached. Blindly, I reached and found the socket on my helmet, pushing the connector in until I heard a small snap.
"Can you hear me, my draga?" I heard his voice through the helmet, coming through with a tinny sound.
"Yes. I can hear you," I acknowledged.
"Shall we talk as we ride?" he asked. "It might make the time go faster."
"If you want," I mumbled and even I could hear how flat my voice was in the amplification of the built-in mike of my helmet. "Where are we going?"
"We will end our journey just outside of Missoula," his answer came back. "But we will stop in Billings."
"We're talkin' Montana, right?" I asked, having no idea of the city names he'd referenced. In a crunch, I might've been able to point out Montana on a map but didn't have a clue about the state itself.
"Correct," came back through my helmet.
We rode in silence for many miles before I started the conversation back up.
"What're we gonna find in Montana?" The sound of my voice, as carried through the cord, sounded different, rougher and deeper than usual.
"What do you mean?" he shot back.
"Uhm… you gotta wife and kids waiting there for you?" I felt him immediately stiffen beneath my arms and hands.
"Do you think me so dishonorable that I would sweetly ride between your thighs if I was married?" His voice was a shout, so loud in my helmet that I cringed.
"Well…" I responded slowly. My mind was racing to find a way to smooth things over. Geez, today seemed to be my day for asking questions that pissed Bay off!
"No. I am not, nor have I ever been, married. I, also, do not have any children," he continued harshly. "Satisfied?"
"Yes," I answered quickly before turning my head and placing it again on his back. I thought it might be better to just remain quiet since I couldn't seem to say anything right.
From the angle of the sun, it appeared to be late afternoon, and I closed my eyes against the rays bouncing off the tinted visor. It looked like the sun was going to be slipping behind the mountains on our left very soon.
I had to admit, the country we were riding through was beautiful. The sky was a wide expanse of blue, dotted here and there with fluffy, white flat-bottomed clouds. And there were trees, so many trees that marched right up to the interstate, intermittently allowing the sunlight through as we rode.
"We will stop in Billings for the night," he announced after a time. "We are only about forty, forty-five minutes away."
"Okay," I breathed. If I'd had a vote, I would've chosen to stay on the back of the bike until hell froze over. Perched behind him, I didn't have to look at him or acknowledge the strain today's drama— the drama I'd caused— had placed between us. Didn't have to feel or see how offended he was by me or my questions.
I let my mind go back to Atin's house when I'd let myself back in after seeing Bay race up the stairs. When I'd swung my gaze around, I'd found Vana framed in the arch that led from the living room to the dining room.
"Vana, I'm…" I started, stepping quickly to where she stood.
"Shhh," she'd said and had placed her fingers on my mouth while looking deeply into my eyes. "No sorry." Her hand moved off my mouth and captured my fingers to lead me to the sofa. We sat close together, the sides of our legs touching, and I saw her eyes go unfocused as she began to speak.
"Nadia," she began. "My friend. Sestra. Sister. Long time together."
I nodded to show I understood her. They'd been friends a very long time and had become close, as close as sisters.
"She dead now." Vana's voice was a heartbreaking murmur in the still of the room. "Died bad. Ah, badly. Still hurts here." I saw her move her hand to between her breasts, over her heart.
"How long ago?" I asked, my voice as quiet as hers.
"Six years," came her reply and with the words, I saw her eyes fill with tears that began to spill over to run down her cheeks.
Six years? Both she and Bay were still deeply affected by a woman who'd been dead six years? I couldn't help my own tears seeing how acutely the pain of Nadia's death was still felt by her friend, the sister of her heart. I didn't have it in me to ask about Bay's connection to Vana's old friend. So I cupped her face and used my thumbs to brush away the wetness on her cheeks.
I pressed my forehead against my new friend's, barely aware of the sound of boots on the stairs. "I am sorry, though, Vana. I didn't know me asking about her would make you hurt. Can you forgive me?"
"Nëmam probleme," she replied, speaking her language before trying it in English. "No problem."
I wanted to give her comfort, to find a gesture that demonstrated the emotions filling my insides. And I remembered what Mama always did for me, the comfort she could provide with only a kiss on my forehead. So, I raised my lips and did the same to Vana, gaining a small watery smile from her.
"Are you all right?" I heard Bay's tinny voice in the helmet.
"Yeah, why?" I shot back.
"It sounds as if you are crying." And he was right, I was, although I didn't remember when it started. It wasn't like I was sobbing or anything. Just my breaths were hitching and there were streams of tears wetting the nylon straps of the heavy helmet.
I wiped the wetness off my chin as best I could before resettling my arm around Bay's waist as we continued to eat up the miles towards Billings.
*.*.*.*.*
Brand tossed his helmet and put the metal saddlebags in a corner of their motel room before allowing his eyes to wander over the space. While the room was cheerier than those they had been in before, it was still worn and showed years of use. He saw Reese as she moved to the farthest side of the bed, carefully propping the backpack and her purse against the wall before shrugging her shoulders, rotating them as if they were stiff.
"I will go get dinner," he announced into the quiet. "While I am gone, you should shower."
"Okay," he heard her say, but she didn't turn towards him when she spoke. In fact, she hadn't looked at him since her time on her butt in Atin's driveway. When she'd screamed up at him. Letting him know exactly when he'd cut her deeply by using Nadia's name, during the intimate moment between them. Her words, screeched in pain and rage, explained her behavior of not only that night, but the time after as well.
"Do you have a preference for food?" Brand wanted her to look at him, to give him more of her words than the simple ones she'd been using for the last hour.
"No." Her tone was flat, with no emotion expressed, and his already weary heart took another hit.
He automatically grabbed his helmet but released it when he remembered that Montana had no mandatory helmet laws unless you were under eighteen. It would be good to ride without one, to feel the cool, sweet wind against his newly exposed scalp and skin.
As he was exiting the fast food joint, he saw Snake and Dice roar by. He wasn't worried about being recognized by Hellion MC Members since this bike was not kno
wn to them, and his new haircut would not give him away. But he shifted both bags to one hand and yanked his goggles up just to be on the safe side. It wouldn't do to be seen until he'd secured Reese to him.
Brand made sure to perform their knock sequence before letting himself into the room. She was still in the bathroom when he entered, so he placed her food and drink on the long dresser next to the TV while he sat at the table. He was trying to compose his thoughts enough so they could talk.
It was not a talk he was looking forward to having.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he made swift work of his meal. She snagged her food and moved to 'her' side of the bed, her back to him, as she ate. Finished, he crumpled up the wrappings and shoved them away before moving his chair to the side of the bed. He removed his boots and socks before he straightened his legs, his leather pants creaking as he crossed his ankles on the mattress.
"We need to talk," he said, although it came out harsher than he intended.
"Let me guess," she drawled as he saw her shoulders stiffen. She was wearing one of his discarded t-shirts she'd appropriated and used as a nightshirt. "Me, right?"
He couldn't help his grin at her words. "No, my Reese. Us."
That got her attention and her head whipped over her shoulder at his words.
"Wha' 'bout ush?" she mumbled around the food in her mouth, her hand covering her lips as she spoke.
"We need to get married," he replied baldly, and if he was being honest, the shocked look on her face gave him a strange form of pleasure.
*.*.*.*.*
"We should what?" I yelled after I forced my throat to swallow my mouthful of food, still hearing his suggestion in my mind.
Bay's beautiful mouth continued to move, explaining I guess, but all I could hear thundering in my ears was the 'no, no, no' of my denial.
I had pledged never to get married and there was no way in hell I would consider it even to save my own life. Even to someone as wonderful as Bay.
Marriage was death of the slowest sort. It meant shackles and the loss of choices. It was being under the thumb of another person, the worst sort of person. Someone who could do as they damn well pleased while you were molded, forced, to become whatever he wanted you to be, with whatever violence it took to get you there.
He grabbed my hands and pulled them away from my ears, something I hadn't even realized I'd done in order to not give credence to the crazy-stupid suggestion of his. At his touch, the thunder abated somewhat, and I could hear him speaking loud and clear.
"…would take you out of their game. It would make you mine, my Reese. And what is mine, I hold onto," he roared, squeezing my fingers tightly. His argument, even if most of it had gone unheard, hovered over us in the small room. I hadn't seen him move from the chair to my side of the bed.
I shook my head, signaling in no uncertain terms, my complete and total disagreement with his plan.
He sighed and pointed his face away but kept my fingers prisoner.
"Deschames expects you to be a virgin when he takes you," he announced at last, his voice much gentler. "You were not untried when our bodies came together so sweetly, my beauty."
The jerk of my body at his words was hard to miss.
Oh, shit.
Brand was dead on the money.
"What do you think he would do to you, or your family, my beautiful girl, if it became known you'd been given to him in any other condition than what he'd paid for, hmmm?"
Mama.
I didn't care what they did to my booze-hound of a father and his demons-in-training, sons since they were all, part and parcel, a den of vipers. But my mother?
"Won't that bring you trouble?" I asked finally, my heart beating so hard it was gonna come out of my chest. "They're gonna blame you."
His beautiful light eyes came to rest on mine. "I can handle trouble," he assured me and I felt my terror step down a notch. From what I'd seen, he was really good at handling trouble.
"Would we have to stay married after this is over?" I was trying to poke holes in his plan but didn't know anything other than to protect myself.
"Not if you don't want to." I couldn't be certain but I thought his voice held a tinge of regret as he answered. But that couldn't be right. He didn't know me any better than I knew him.
My stress at his answer came down another couple of points.
I let my eyes roam as I thought, unseeing as I tried to search for another way. A different way out of the mess I was in. If there was one, I couldn't find it.
And Bay gave me the room to think even though our hands were still linked.
My eyes were drawn to his, but my mind went back to the feel of him holding me tightly during that awful storm that crashed over us after we first met.
I remembered the two of us in the middle of the king-sized bed as he'd upended the carrier bag filled with things to change me so I could hide.
I recalled the look on his face the times we'd been naked, joined together; the sweetness when he'd touched me, entered and rode me, creating more joy inside my body and heart than I'd ever had in my entire life.
*.*.*.*.*
He watched her swallow thickly and let go of her fingers, making his way back to settle again in the chair, legs back up on the bed.
"Married?" she repeated, her face in profile, eyes blinking rapidly.
"Yes." It probably would've been better if he'd tried to hide his smile, but her reaction was too cute for him to hold it back.
She turned to the wall, her back to him. He knew her head must be spinning, and he simply waited until she absorbed his words, knowing she'd be too curious not to question his suggestion further. Reese carefully put her food on the nightstand before she turned and scooted, rearranging the pillows until her back was propped against the headboard, her arms securing her waist.
"Just to make sure, this would be a temporary deal, right?" Her voice was calm as she asked the question again, though she was again pulling at her lip. But it was the hopeful note in it that sent his stomach southward.
"If that is what you want, my Reese," he repeated his answer softly, dropping his eyes to his feet but his heart took up a rhythm hard and deep within him.
"Of course that's what I want!" she cried, throwing up her hands and shifting to sit straight up. Her eyes, those beautiful big pools of brown, finally met his. "Damn, Bay! Why would I ever want to marry? Especially to get hitched to a man who is still in love with his dead girlfriend!"
He deserved that, those words from her and was surprised that she wasn't saying more. In the hours of riding they had done, he'd turned the words Reese had screamed at him over and over in his head. At first, he denied it to himself since he knew he most definitely had not been thinking of Nadia at that particular amazing moment. But how else would Reese had known her name?
"When the danger is over, then we will divorce if that is what you want." This was the third time he'd assured her on this particular point, and he didn't want to say it again.
"Why not an annulment?" Reese's head tilted in confusion.
"Because, draga, we would have to present grounds for an annulment. One of which is that we would not have shared physical pleasures," he replied uncomfortably and moved his feet to re-cross his ankles.
Her eyebrows raised sharply at his pronouncement as she stared at him. "I could do that," she said, after a time of the eye stares they both seemed to frequently get caught up in. "I don't need to have sex with you in order get Louie off my ass."
It was his turn to experience incredulity at her words. She didn't mean that, did she? He knew she found him attractive and had found bliss not only under his fingers but with his cock. He'd been looking forward to giving her pleasure with his tongue as well, but according to her, she could do without any of the physical side of marriage.
Well maybe she could, but he sure as shit couldn't!
"No," he said firmly, feeling his anger quickly taking over, not realizing it was reflected on h
is face with his deep scowl. "We marry, we fuck."
She blinked as she quickly turned her face away at his crudeness. He saw her hand come up to grab her lower lip again.
"I will marry you to protect you and in return, you will let me into your beautiful, hot, wet body, allowing us both to find joy in our naked joining." He was careful with his explanation, trying not to speak as crudely as before even though the words were bubbling inside him. But at just the thought, the saying of the words, he felt his cock thicken.
Her eyes slowly came back to his. "You can never call out her name when we're doing…" she began.
"I will watch my words, my Reese," he promised, interrupting her and holding up his hand. He'd already worked it through, in the hours on the bike, how he would've felt if she'd called him by another's name during their shared moments when he was deep within her. And he admitted to himself, it wouldn't have gone well.
"Okay," she said on an indrawn breath. "You marry me, keep me safe and I'll let you screw me."
"No," Brand drawled the word out. "I marry you, keep you safe and we will find our enjoyment together. If I had a choice to use my hand or an unmoving, unfeeling pussy to get off, I would choose my hand. You must be an active… ah, a willing participant in our sex."
There were a series of slow blinks from her as she processed his words. At long last he heard her, though her voice was very low, very quiet. "Okay."
"Tell me what you have agreed to, my Reese," he pressed.
"We will marry, you will protect me, and we will… we will… ah, both do things… erm, enjoy things, when we get busy," she said, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused. "Then, once it's safe, we'll get a divorce."
He let his eyes trail down her body and saw her nipples were hard beneath her sleep shirt. His hard-on pulsed against his leather pants at the evidence of her reluctant arousal.
"Can I ask a question, though?" Her eyes speared his when he again raised them to her face. At his nod, she continued. "What's your last name?"
"Jovanovic. Brandimir Jovanovic," he replied with a grin. Why hadn't he ever, in the six days they'd been together, given her his full name? In order to cover his embarrassment of nondisclosure, he stood and moved the chair back to the table before taking off his t-shirt and easing himself out of his leathers. Clad only in his boxer briefs, he joined her on the bed.
Hiding in Plain Sight Page 14
