Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC Book 4)

by Jeanne St. James

  “And you think Deacon is what’s missing in my life?”

  “I don’t know, and neither will you if you don’t let yourself explore the possibility. Maybe, in the end, he won’t fit. Your lifestyles, your choices, may be too different, but you won’t know until you try.”

  “I just need time, Reilly. I need to be okay with what happened today. Right now, I’m not. And I’m worried for you. How this will affect you. Taking a life shouldn’t be an easy thing to do. Not one of them tried to stop it.”

  “Neither did we.”

  That bothered Reese the most. When she forced from Whip where they were taking Billy, they had jumped in Deacon’s truck and followed.

  Reese thought her intention was to stop them, but was it? She could’ve easily called 911 instead. She didn’t.

  She might not have pushed the button, but she was just as guilty by being there.

  She’d wanted justice. She just never realized how that justice would be doled out.

  Hearing the scream from a man being burned to death would be seared forever in her mind. She would never forget the second Reilly’s palm slammed that button or the sound of those burners igniting.

  “I know this might sound fucked up, but after pushing that button? I suddenly felt free. Safe to get back on my own life’s path. Fears I hadn’t even realized I was holding onto disappeared. I have this club to thank for that. And you, too.”

  A heavy weight crushed Reese’s chest. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yes, you did. You once again sacrificed for me.”

  Taking care of her sister, wanting her safe, helping her when she needed it, was not a sacrifice. It was what family did. Real family.

  Their birth mother might be blood, but that was all she was.

  What Reilly saw in this club became clear. Reese understood why her sister wanted to be a part of it. And, in truth, she would only be less than a half hour away.

  Reese wasn’t losing her sister. She was just letting her go. Letting her grow on her own. Letting her be who she was meant to be. “My door will always be open to you, if and when you want a change. Don’t ever think twice about coming home to me. For any reason. Even for no reason.”

  Reilly gave her a last squeeze before they released each other. “So, you’re leaving?”

  “Like you said, I’ll only be about twenty minutes away. We’ll practically be neighbors.” Reese’s attempt at a laugh sounded stilted. “I’ll grab my things.” She pushed past her sister, trying to hide the sting in her eyes.

  This wasn’t a forever type of goodbye. She’d see her sister often. She’d talk to her on the phone regularly. They’d still be a big part of each other’s life.

  They’d still be family.

  Even so, it hurt. Like her life was ripping apart. Like a large piece of her was being torn away, leaving a gaping hole that had been filled the day her sister was born.

  She mechanically collected her belongings from the bathroom and from Deacon’s bedroom.

  She could smell his presence, his familiar scent, as she moved around his room. Leather, sandalwood, smoke.

  Everything that reminded her of Deacon. Of the way he lived his life.

  Of how he lived giving no fucks, while she, on the other hand, gave too many.

  A voice came from the doorway. “Are you at least going to tell him goodbye?”

  Reese turned her head away and closed her eyes. “I’ll text him.”

  “Reese,” Reilly breathed. Her sister’s disappointment was palatable.

  She picked up her overnight bag off the bed and turned to her sister. “Can you drive me back to Mansfield?”

  “I wish you would talk to him first.”

  That would make it more difficult. “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Maybe you don’t need to say anything.”

  “That’s not in my nature,” she said with a stiff laugh.

  Always having something to say was both her strength and her weakness.

  Earlier in his office, before Billy showed up, before everything went down, she had been rendered speechless.

  What she saw in Deacon’s eyes had stolen her words. Had destroyed her ability to think practically.

  That moment had scared her because she was ready to think impractically for once. To throw everything she’d fought so hard to build out the door and just give in to whatever he wanted.

  What deep down she wanted, too, but was unable to figure out a way to get a handle on.

  So, yes, she needed time and distance.

  And if she talked to him first, he might convince her otherwise.

  She couldn’t risk that.

  Not yet.

  Epilogue

  Detours and Final Destinations

  He didn’t come right away.

  She thought he might.

  To demand answers.

  To force her to face her fears.

  To face her feelings.

  To face him.

  Facing him would’ve made her decision harder.

  He could’ve pushed the issue, but he didn’t. He’d respected her need for time and space.

  She had almost called him a million times. She almost got into her car and drove to Manning Grove many more.

  She hadn’t because she needed to be sure.

  She hadn’t because she needed him to be absolutely sure.

  But not reaching out wasn’t fair to him. She knew that.

  Still... she waited.

  Because she needed to know beyond all doubt. She took that time and space he gave her to figure out just what that doubt was. What she needed.

  From him. From herself.

  They were so different.

  He’d never been in a serious relationship. And hers had failed.

  He lived his life loose and easy, while hers was so rigid and structured.

  Her home used to be her solace. Now it only felt empty.

  Lonely.

  A tomb that housed a life she no longer was sure she wanted to live.

  Her life of living to work, working to live.

  A vicious, endless cycle.

  Still... she waited.

  Every night she came home, she hoped he’d be there. Forcing her to face her fears. Her insecurities.

  He wasn’t.

  Still... she waited.

  Days turned into weeks which turned into a month.

  Every night she’d come home to a dark house, an empty driveway. She’d open the door and head directly out to the deck.

  Disappointment tugged at her when she’d find his chair empty and she was only greeted by the quiet night.

  Still... she waited.

  It was silly, really. A woman like her allowing those fears and insecurities—some she hadn’t even realized she had—to override something she wanted so desperately.

  But she needed to be sure. For him to be sure.

  For them not to make a mistake.

  She couldn’t simply hand over her hope and her heart to someone who could crush it.

  To someone who could disappoint her.

  Her mother. Her father. Allen.

  Each had contributed bricks to the wall she’d erected.

  A wall someone she least expected had scaled.

  Deacon.

  A biker. A bail bondsman. A bounty hunter.

  A simple man. But also, a not-so-simple man.

  But would he be enough? Or would he be too much?

  Would he try to control her? Change her?

  She needed someone who would accept her as she was. How she’d always be.

  And Deacon needed the same.

  Someone who’d accept him as he was. How he’d always be.

  They were so different.

  Different wasn’t always good. Different wasn’t always easy.

  But sometimes it felt right to embrace the difference.

  And sometimes different just fit.

  Like yin and yang. Two opposites creating a whole.

 
Still... she waited.

  This time with her hand on the doorknob.

  She took one last glance over her shoulder at the Harley in her driveway.

  The house was dark. Quiet.

  The knob turned easily.

  She had never given him the key. He would’ve had to pick the lock.

  Also not surprising, the alarm was disarmed since he had known the code and, since she’d been back, she hadn’t changed it.

  Instead, she had waited...

  The recessed lighting was dimmed low, just bright enough so the kitchen wasn’t completely pitch black.

  Just bright enough to see the glass of wine waiting for her on the counter.

  She toed off her heels and set her leather tote on the floor next to them.

  Even though her heart was racing, she took her time lifting the glass to her lips and taking a sip.

  He had picked her favorite.

  With trembling fingers, she worked the tiny buttons on her blouse free. When she was done, she shrugged it off and tossed it over her tote.

  The late May night was warm, so the lace camisole would be all she needed.

  Well, it wasn’t everything she needed.

  She needed what waited for her on the deck.

  Grabbing the wine, she moved slowly through the great room and hesitated at the French doors.

  Once she opened that door, life would change.

  For better. For worse. For whatever that life would bring.

  She had wanted to wait until she was ready.

  She still wasn’t sure she was, but she could no longer wait.

  Deacon deserved better than that.

  So did she.

  Reilly had told her she should stop denying herself.

  The sister she raised was right. The sister she had always worried about was now worried about her.

  The sister she only wanted the best for, wanted the same for her.

  Was it Deacon?

  She never expected to care so much about a man like him. It surprised her when it changed from only sex to something deeper. But would it be enough?

  She wasn’t sure.

  However, Reilly was also right about not knowing until she tried.

  Until they tried.

  She closed her eyes for a second, took a long, slow breath and opened that door.

  It had been difficult to remain in his seat. To wait.

  While she drove up the driveway. While she discovered his sled.

  While she found the glass of wine.

  While she decided whether or not to join him outside on the deck.

  He didn’t bother to turn. He didn’t need to look at her, he could feel her there.

  Unsure.

  But then, so was he.

  “You never said goodbye.”

  “Because I couldn’t say it.”

  He had missed the voice that swirled around him. The voice that could be hard and powerful when it needed to be, soft and caring when it came to who she worried about. Who she loved.

  Her sister.

  He also hoped him.

  “Why not? Was it too difficult? Or was it ‘cause of what happened?”

  “A little of both.”

  “I didn’t intend to put it on you.”

  He heard the breath rush out of her. “But you were right. I wanted him dead.”

  “And you weren’t expectin’ how it would affect you.”

  “No.”

  “He didn’t die because you wanted him dead, Reese.” He held up his hand.

  After a moment, he heard her move and her slender fingers slipped into his. They were warm and fit within his perfectly. Her touch made the restlessness eating at him settle.

  He guided her around until he could see her without turning his head. He tugged her hand in a silent request.

  And was relieved when she knew what he wanted.

  She climbed onto the lounge chair and straddled his lap. He took the wine glass from her and placed it on the table next to the aluminum foil ashtray he made so many weeks ago. An unlit joint sat in it, waiting.

  He cupped her face and their gazes locked, even though it was too dark to read her eyes.

  “He didn’t die because that’s what you wanted, Reese. He was dead the second you walked through that door the night he ambushed you in the parkin’ lot. His fate was sealed that very fuckin’ moment I saw your face and you told me what happened.”

  Her lips parted and a soft breath escaped. He made the woman who could cut with her words speechless.

  “He died because he touched what was mine. He hurt someone I love.”

  “Deacon,” she breathed.

  “No one will ever get away with that shit. Not ever. Know you’re independent. The ruler of your own destiny. But hate to break it to you... You’re mine. You belong to me.”

  Her eyes shut slowly, then opened just as slowly as she processed his words. “Club property.”

  He lifted her hand and held it over his heart. “No. You belong to me, not the Fury.”

  He waited. One breath. Two...

  “Do you belong to me?”

  If she only knew how much. “You would need to claim me.”

  “How?”

  His lips twitched. “Tattoo my name across your ass.”

  She shoved at him and he captured her hands before she could escape the lounge chair.

  “Just tell me you’re willin’ to give us a fair shot.”

  “I won’t give up my house, Deke. Or move my practice. I’m established where I am. It’s mine and I want to keep it.”

  He pressed his thumb against the pounding pulse in her wrist. “Then don’t. Your office is only twenty minutes away. We proved you can work remotely if you gotta. Your house is less than thirty. We can make it work.”

  “And if we can’t?”

  “It’ll be fun tryin’.” He held her wrists tighter so he didn’t get punched in the nuts for what he was about to say. “Listen, this is how it’s gonna go...”

  He grinned when she groaned loudly.

  “Gonna keep my place and you’re keepin’ yours. I’ll spend a few nights a week here, and on the weekends we’ll be at the farm. That means come every Friday night, you’re takin’ time off ‘til Monday mornin’. If your clients don’t understand, then fuck them. But I bet they’ll stick around. You know why?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me why,” she said on a dramatic sigh.

  “Because, babe, you’re fuckin’ worth it.”

  She was worth it. And not just to her clients...

  “You know, you’re surprisingly a lot smarter than you sound,” she teased.

  He smirked. “I’m sneaky like that.” He got serious. “Doin’ it like that will give us time to figure shit out. And one thing we have plenty of is time. But you start cheatin’ me of that time, you’re gonna hear about it. Just warnin’ you now.”

  “Being with the club on the weekends will help me keep an eye on my sister.”

  “Don’t gotta worry about that. We got that covered.” They had set Reilly up at the motel temporarily. Until she could afford a place of her own. The club wasn’t charging her shit since she was helping Ozzy manage the office when she wasn’t working at the garage.

  “Is The Grove Inn safe for her?”

  “Wouldn’t let her stay there if it wasn’t, Reese. Ain’t gonna let anything happen to her. Ozzy lives onsite and she’s at the garage durin’ the day. You don’t need to worry about her. It’s only temporary ‘til she finds an affordable apartment, anyway.”

  “I can pay her rent.”

  There she went again, trying to gain control of the situation. “You know she don’t want that. Wants to be on her own. You did more than your share for her, now she needs to do it herself.”

  “It’s just difficult letting go.”

  “No shit.” He took a breath and then released what he’d been holding onto, what had been like a knife to his chest. “Wasn’t difficult lettin’ me go, though.�
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  Her walking away without a word had killed him. He understood why, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  “I never had you, Deke.”

  “You sure about that?” One of the most difficult things he had to do in his life was wait for her. Give her the time and space she needed. He had to stop himself from calling her a million times. Stop himself from hopping on his sled and driving to her house, or office, many more.

  “At what point were you mine?”

  He answered that easily. “The minute you demanded I get naked, shoved me onto this fuckin’ lounge chair and climbed on my dick.”

  She snorted softly. “Yes, that was a very romantic moment between us.”

  “Wasn’t romantic, but it was hot as fuck.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me about how hot it was.”

  Thank fuck for that.

  “Do you want an encore?”

  “No,” he answered.

  She pulled her chin back and stared at him. “No?”

  “Fuck no.” He surged to his feet with her still clinging to him and secured her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

  Somehow he managed to get her inside, across the great room and into her bedroom without tripping or dropping her.

  And once they were there, he let her slide down his body.

  “I’ve missed you,” she whispered as he helped her get undressed.

  Fuck, he had missed her, too.

  Once naked, she settled on the bed. The sight of her alone tempted him, but her next words made his hands still while peeling off his own clothes.

  “Let’s never be apart long enough to miss each other like that again.”

  For fuck’s sake. Hearing that might have been worth the wait.

  “Woman,” he growled. “Wanted to take my time and savor every fuckin’ inch of you tonight. Makin’ that difficult for me.”

  She smiled. “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself, then.”

  He quickly shucked the rest of his clothes, dug a wrap out of his wallet and tossed it next to her. He climbed onto the bed and up her body until he was face to face with her, their eyes locked.

  “Tell me again,” he ordered.

  “I missed you.”