by Lane Hart
“I don’t want you to think that I’m less of a man now that you’ve seen me cry,” he says softly.
“I don’t think that,” I assure him as I close my eyes and breathe him in, the way he smells, the way his warmth feels in my arms. I’m so damn happy that I’m here with him. “In fact, it makes me think you’re more of a man because you care so much. It’s okay to be upset, to cry, to love and to grieve.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Me either,” I agree. “I just hate that we had to find each other again right when there’s a tragedy.”
“Torin blames me.”
“What?” I exclaim. “He’s just upset, sad and angry. You don’t believe that, do you?” I ask with concern.
“Well, it is my fault,” he says simply. Pulling back enough to look at me, he says, “I set everything into motion, pushing over that first domino when I beat the shit out of one of the Aces. They called Hector, his men pulled Abe and me over, and then from there, it’s all on me.”
“No, it’s not,” I disagree. Holding his face in my hands, I tell him, “Your brother doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s the one responsible. He shouldn’t have gotten into the mess with Hector.”
“You’re right,” he agrees. “But the other day, after I killed one of his men, Hector told Torin to hand me over. When he didn’t, I guess he decided to take out Kennedy instead to hurt Torin for not giving me up. She died because of me.”
“No, baby, don’t say that,” I tell him as I brush my lips over his and wrap my arms around his neck to hug him. “Hector’s responsible. You and Torin may have added fuel to the fire, but he crossed a terrible line.”
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen now,” Chase says.
Placing a kiss over my name on his chest, I tell him, “I do. We’re gonna get through this together. And when we come out on the other side, we’ll probably be a little banged up, but we’ll make it because we have each other.”
“I love you,” he says when he reaches for me and brings my lips to his.
“I love you too,” I tell him. Kissing him again, I say, “And that’s all we need to know right now.”
…
Chase falls asleep pretty fast after we stop talking. He didn’t get much sleep last night, and after everything today, he was emotionally exhausted.
For some reason, I can’t seem to sleep. I feel all out of sorts, like I need to be doing something for the guys.
I know Chase and I didn’t eat any dinner. I bet the other guys haven’t either, too stunned and worried about their president to remember to eat.
Slipping out of Chase’s arms, I get up and get dressed again.
I’m pretty sure there’s a kitchen upstairs back behind the bar. I wonder if they keep any food stocked in it for the brothers.
That’s where I head now. The music of the bar sounds muted until I open the door at the top of the stairs. Unlike most nights, the room is pretty quiet; the jukebox turned down lower as if they’re afraid the sounds will be offensive to Torin.
Speaking of… “Where’s Torin?” I ask Abe, who’s nursing a beer at the bar while staring off into the distance.
“He’s out back with War and the prospects, shooting at targets.”
“Oh,” I mutter. That doesn’t sound like the best thing for him to be doing.
“They’re using silencers,” Abe adds, like that makes it all better.
“Okay,” I say as I look around the room that’s mostly filled with club sluts that are chewing their nails and looking uncomfortable.
“Where are the rest of the guys?” I ask Abe.
“Group ride up the coast,” he says.
“You sure they won’t try to go south after Hector?” I ask.
“Nah,” he replies. Taking a swig of beer, he says, “They won’t do anything unless we vote it. Tonight’s just about getting a little peace. No better place than the road to do that.”
Curious, I ask, “Why aren’t you with them?”
He lifts a dark eyebrow as he looks at me, like it’s so obvious he doesn’t know why I would bother asking. “Because Chase is here.”
Placing a hand on his thick arm and squeezing it, I tell him, “You’re a good friend, Abe.”
Shrugging, he tosses back the rest of the beer and then sets it down on the bar. “I think you meant to say brother.”
“Right,” I agree. “Chase is lucky to have you.”
He burps loudly in agreement.
“Now, what are we going to do about them?” I ask as I eye the girls.
“No clue,” Abe replies. “They’ve been swarming around like a hive of restless bees. I told them to go home, but they won’t.”
“I get it,” I say, realizing that they’re feeling that same restless energy as I am. “Girls!” I call out to get their attention. “Group meeting in the kitchen.”
They’re still looking at each other questioningly when I head through the door that leads to the area on the backside of the bar. I was right; it’s an enormous kitchen with brand new appliances that look like they’ve never been used, other than the dishwasher with rows of glasses sitting beside it.
Eventually, two girls trickle in and then three more. Finally, all six are gathered together, arms wrapped around themselves because it’s cold back here and they’re not wearing many clothes.
“Why are you all just sitting around?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
They exchange looks before a brunette says, “We don’t know what to do.”
“Yeah, well, me neither,” I agree with a sigh. “You want to do something though, right?”
“Yes,” most of them agree or nod their heads in agreement.
“We tried to talk to the guys, but none of them wanted us tonight,” a blonde speaks up and says.
“They’re trying to deal with something they’ve probably never experienced before,” I explain. “Something that’s going to send this club into a tailspin before they’re finally able to correct it. Give the guys space. But you did the right thing by sticking around. They’re gonna need you, whether they’ll admit it to you or themselves. Losing someone close makes you want to celebrate life, sometimes in the act that creates it. The men will get there, just be patient,” I assure them. “In the meantime, we need to keep them fed.”
Going over to the large refrigerator, I pull it open and find it stocked full of beer but no food.
“Who wants to run to the grocery store?” I ask. “We can provide some comfort food until the guys want the other type of comfort.”
“I’ll go,” a brunette offers.
“I can help her,” a redhead volunteers.
“Great,” I reply. “I’ll make you a list of some things for sandwiches tonight and then breakfast tomorrow. Now, does anyone know how to cook anything? All I can do is use the microwave.”
A blonde with a bad dye job raises her hand, bless her heart. “I can cook omelettes.”
“Awesome. You’ll be our omelette girl first thing tomorrow morning. Be here by seven to get started.”
She gives an enthusiastic nod of agreement.
“Can anyone make a casserole or lasagna? Something to heat up fast?” I ask.
No one speaks up.
Great, we’re a generation that lives on fast food.
“That’s okay,” I say. “I’ll add some frozen ones to the grocery list, and we’ll heat them in the oven. How about desserts?”
I get a few takers there and tell them all to bring in their dishes by lunchtime tomorrow, since you can never have enough desserts. Even if the guys say they’re not hungry, I bet they’ll eat a slice of apple pie.
When everyone has agreed to help out with something, and I’ve written out the list of everything we’ll need from the store, I tell the women to scatter and go do their good deeds. It’s better than them staying here all night, not getting any sleep. Who knows when the brothers will be back? Besides,
I’m guessing they’ll all be like Chase when they do return – just want a bed to pass out in.
Finally feeling like I’m ready for a little sleep myself, I decide to take a peek outside to check on Torin before I go back downstairs.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Torin fires his weapon, one quiet shot after another thanks to the silencer, until the slide racks open when his clip empties.
“Give me another,” he says to War, who is standing beside him at the ready. On the ground are the two prospects, each of them pressing bullets into additional clips from boxes of bullets.
“You guys need anything?” I ask while Torin reloads. He doesn’t even look at me before he cocks the weapon and starts firing again.
“Nah, darlin’. We’re fine,” War says. The prospects both mime drinking a beer, so I grab four and bring them back, setting them down next to them.
“I’ll be down in Chase’s room if anyone needs anything,” I say before I slip back inside.
Undressing, because I love the feel of Chase’s skin against mine, I crawl back under the covers and become the big spoon against his back, throwing an arm over his waist and pressing a few kisses to the bearded skull tattoo on his back. Other than cover my hand on his waist and bring it up to his lips to kiss, Chase doesn’t say anything before I finally drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chase
When I wake up with Sasha in my arms, her backside to the front of my body, I’m happier than I’ve felt in years. Then, I remember the day before, and I go from feeling joy to fury in seconds.
I’m so fucked in my head that it takes a second to realize that my dick is soft. When was the last time I didn’t wake up with morning wood? That’s how bad things are. I have a gorgeous woman naked in my bed, and I don’t even have the urge to fuck her.
My chest aches too badly with the loss of Kennedy and my nephew that it doesn’t ever feel like things will go back to normal in my life.
First things first, we need to sit everyone down and talk things out, make sure no one does anything to make shit worse like I did.
Kissing Sasha’s cheek, I roll out of bed; then shower and get dressed.
Sitting down with my phone on the charger, since I forgot to do that yesterday, I type out a text to Sax, asking if Torin’s called everyone here. If not, I tell him to do it for me since I want to hold church in an hour.
Then, I get to my feet to go look for my brother.
The door to the chapel is shut when I approach it, so I turn the knob and walk inside, assuming this is where I’ll find Torin.
And I do.
I wasn’t expecting to walk in and find him with his big ass Army knife out taking it to his cut.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask him.
“I can’t do this,” he says without looking over at me.
“Do what?” I ask as I walk up and see that he’s already removed half the thread for the president flash on the front.
“She trusted me,” Torin says. “To protect her, to keep her and the baby safe. And I betrayed her.”
“What? No, man. This isn’t on you.”
Stabbing the knife’s point into the wooden table, he says, “I couldn’t take care of my old lady or my boy. How the fuck can I be responsible for this club?”
“Look, I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you right now,” I start. “But the club needs you in charge. Who else is gonna do it, if not you?” I ask.
He turns around and holds out the president patch to me. “You.”
“Hell no,” I tell him, refusing to accept it. “Why would you think I can lead? You blame me for all this shit, remember?”
When I don't take the patch, he lays it on the table and then picks up his cut to put it back on, still stained with Kennedy’s blood.
“This is on me,” Torin says. “It’s all on me. I’m sorry I said that to you yesterday. I was just angry and wanted to blame someone else.”
“Then blame fucking Hector!” I exclaim.
“If I hadn’t fucked up, he wouldn’t have had anything to blackmail me with,” Torin replies. “Now that she’s gone, it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s a goddamn idiot for removing the one reason I was paying him. The one reason I didn’t just kill him.”
“Yeah, he is,” I agree, assuming that Torin was only paying Hector off to prevent Kennedy from finding out what he did. “We’re gonna kill him,” I promise. “You can’t do it alone.”
“I won’t,” he agrees. “I’ve got funeral plans and shit to make. I know you won’t let me down. When you say it’s time, it’s time. That’s your call now. Just give me a few days,” he says before he starts to walk out the door.
“Torin!” I yell to stop him. His feet pause, his shoulders hunched like they’re carrying the weight of the fucking world, but he doesn’t turn around. “We have church in less than an hour. Everyone’s on their way in.”
“Good,” he says. “You’re in charge, and you’ve got my proxy. Whatever you decide.”
“Torin!” I call out again, but this time he doesn’t stop. He’s down the hall and gone.
Jogging back to my room, I grab my cell phone and call War.
“I’m up here with him,” he answers, knowing why I’m calling.
“Good. I’ll find you after we meet,” I tell him, figuring he probably needs to get home to check on his kid and get some sleep.
After I hang up, I realize that I should’ve called him out in the hallway because I woke up Sasha.
“Hey,” she says as she sits up in bed to look at me, her hair a tangled mess. She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts. “You hungry?” she asks.
“No,” I reply automatically before adding, “But I probably need to eat something before my stomach starts fucking eating itself.”
“Head upstairs. The girls should have breakfast ready. I’ll come help as soon as I get a shower,” she says.
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ve got a meeting in about half an hour.”
“Good,” she says as she climbs out of bed and comes over to hug me. “We’ll make sure the guys all eat something too.”
“We?” I ask as I hold her in my arms, not ready to let her go yet.
“I got the girls to pitch in on feeding you all for the next few days.”
“You did, huh?” I ask with a small smile, impressed that she’s not only getting along with the club sluts but putting them to work. I’ll be even more surprised if they actually listen to her. Those girls don’t like other women telling them what to do, especially one that’s sleeping with the same bastard they used to fool around with.
“They just wanted to do something too,” Sasha says. “Everyone’s worried about you guys. How’s Torin this morning?”
“Fucked up,” I grumble. “We’ll talk about all that later, okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” she agrees. Giving me a quick kiss on the lips, she says, “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” I reply.
…
Sasha
After I get a quick shower and dry my hair, I head upstairs. I’m so glad to see the bar full of men eating rather than drinking their emotions this early in the morning. The club girls came through.
“Sasha?”
I turn at the sound of my name and find… an older version of Chase – his father. His reddish-blond hair is nearly white after ten years but he still looks the same, tall and handsome, just like his sons.
“Hi, Mr. Fury,” I say before I go up to him and hug him. I didn’t get a chance to speak to him last night.
“Well, I’ll be,” he says as he leans back, holding me by my upper arms to look at me again. “What are you doing here, doll?”
“I guess Chase hasn’t told you with everything going on,” I reply. “We’re back together.”
“That’s wonderful!” his father says before hugging me once more. “It’s so good to see you again. Especially now.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,�
� I tell him.
“Thank you, doll,” he says when he releases me. “Kennedy was just an angel on earth. I don’t know what we’ll do without her. I don’t know what Torin will do…” he starts before he gets choked up. Pulling out a handkerchief from his button down’s pocket, he blows his nose and apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Keeps sneaking up on me.”
“I understand,” I tell him, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder. “How’s Mrs. Fury? Is she here?”
“Yes, she’s well, thanks for asking. She’s in the kitchen,” he replies. “I know she’ll be so glad to see you too. We may have lost one sweet daughter-in-law, but at least we gained another.”
“Thank you,” I tell him. “I wish I would’ve been able to get to know Kennedy better. She seemed like such a wonderful woman.”
“She was,” he agrees. “And Torin was damn lucky she put up with him.”
“Dad,” Chase calls out before he comes over and wraps his father in a long embrace. “Glad you made it back over here again today. Torin just left…”
“How are you doing, son? Did you get any sleep last night?” Mr. Fury asks.
“Yeah, a little,” Chase answers. “It’s been tough.”
“We’re here if you need anything. Just ask,” his father says to him. “And why didn’t you tell me that you were back with Miss Sasha, huh?”
“I was meaning to, but things have been crazy,” Chase replies.
“I’m happy for you two. We needed some good news right now. So, tell me,” he starts before putting one arm around Chase’s shoulders and the other around mine. “When’s the wedding?”
“Don’t rush us, old man,” Chase tells his dad before he slips away from his arm. “And I hate to run, but we’ve got some business to take care of downstairs.”
“Right, sure,” his father says. “You boys be careful.”
“We will,” Chase agrees. Giving me a quick kiss, he says, “I’ll see you in a few.”
“Okay,” I agree before he tips his head toward the basement door and all the men get up and follow.
After they’re gone, his dad continues to stare off silently in the direction they went. Eventually he says, “Chase is in charge.”
