Sampson left the bedroom.
“You’d betray a Brother for that little WASP?”
“WASP?” Lang repeated through gritted teeth. “She’s Italian American.” He released Moco and backhanded him so hard his teeth clattered. “Say another word about her and you’ll leave in a box.”
He sat on the edge of his bed, keeping close watch over Moco. This isn’t what Lang had envisioned as the future of his club. But the truth had come out days after Jess’s arrest. Brother turned against Brother, like Cain and Abel. Lied and broke all the bylaws—fucking chaos. Order needed to be restored. He’d die before he allowed the Sons of Odin’s reputation to get maligned. It came down to respect.
Twenty minutes later Vincent stuck his head inside the room. “We’re ready.”
Lang stood and stretched. After everything Moco had done, why wasn’t he thrilled with the idea of hurting him more? Because it broke his heart to see his Brother’s fall from grace, similar to getting a shiv in the gut, the blade twisting slowly. “Bring him.”
He didn’t want to explain himself to Vincent, so he stormed down the hallway. As he emerged in the main room, he nodded in recognition of what he saw. Two lines had been formed near the back door of the clubhouse, twelve Brothers on each side. Some held weapons—Lang noted a couple of ax handles, brass knuckles, a beer bottle, and fisted hands. Moco wouldn’t leave standing, he’d have to crawl like the depraved animal he’d become. Stripped of his patches and human dignity.
Evolution worked both ways, climbing the species ladder to the top, or falling hard and fast, hitting every goddamned rung on the way down.
The Prospects were assembled to the side—silent. Where was Lily? Sitting alone at one of the nearby tables. Their gazes met, a mixture of emotions on that face he’d die for. His heartbeat intensified. The thought of Moco laying hands on her sickened him, made him want to kill.
Vincent appeared with Moco in tow, his head bent in defeat. Vincent left Moco standing alone and took his place in line.
Lang approached Moco. “For unforgivable sins against the Brotherhood and breaking the sacred trust you swore to protect with your life, I banish you. Turn around.”
Moco complied. Lang removed Moco’s vest, then handed it to one of the Prospects. “Return it to the meeting room.”
Then he unsheathed the knife he carried on his hip and held it up for everyone to see. The sharp blade made quick work of Moco’s cotton shirt—leaving shredded fabric behind. The Sons of Odin tattoo that covered his fallen Brother’s back was considered club property too. And if Lang were another man, he’d carve the letters and hammer off. Instead, he struck with calculated purpose, slow death by a thousand superficial cuts. By the time he finished, Moco’s back was covered in blood, his ink permanently marred.
As expected, Moco didn’t utter a sound. Lang turned him around to face his former Brothers.
“Walk the line,” Lang ordered.
Carving him like a Halloween pumpkin couldn’t compare to the retribution he’d suffer at their hands. As president, Lang didn’t man the lines; he’d watch from where he stood. Rules were simple: no hits above the shoulders or below the hips. Moco would be able to cover his scars and bruises, but every time he removed his clothes, he’d remember his loss. Let the fucker find comfort in the arms of the cartel.
Chapter 25
There hadn’t been any words, laughter, or lovemaking after the incident. Just Lang waiting for Lily to fall asleep under his careful watch. But after a couple of hours, exhaustion claimed him first.
She couldn’t possibly rest after what she’d witnessed. The first hit, made with an ax handle, landed on Moco’s left hip. And as he advanced through the line, it seemed each Brother struck a more brutal blow than the last. It ended when Vincent smashed a beer bottle over his head in retaliation for what Moco had done to Lang. Then the back door was opened, and Moco wobbled outside, his motorcycle confiscated by the club.
No one said anything after Lang closed and locked the door. He simply clutched Lily’s hand and walked her to his bedroom. It seemed Moco had been erased from his memory forever.
She glanced at the bedside alarm clock: three in the morning. She groaned, tempted to cancel the trip to the beach. Although she’d never condoned violence before, something about the way the Sons of Odin handled Moco didn’t upset her as much as it should. Maybe part of it was because he’d attacked her. But other reasons existed. Lang’s earlier explanation about justice for everyone resonated, reminding her of the perfect antihero in a dystopian fantasy book. Only Lang was very real.
She caressed his cheek, admiring his strong arms. Those hands were capable of so many things—love, compassion, and destruction. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Lily had never been an incurable romantic. Always the practical girl, the one who approached situations with a clear mind, she’d fallen apart the minute she met him. She could hear her friends back home lecturing her for making poor choices. Good thing they were thousands of miles away. Because getting tangled up in his world added something positive to her life.
It didn’t mean she was forgetting her professional goals; it simply meant reorganizing and learning to separate her job from her personal life. Would the school district reprimand her if they knew she was dating the president of an MC? Maybe. But Dr. Henley respected and liked Lang, and that must count for something.
She yawned, wondering how her mother would feel about Lang. And her father. Later, she convinced herself. Then she leaned over and kissed his lips, ready to rest.
Lang’s eyes popped open and she gasped in surprise as he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. “You shouldn’t sleep naked, Counselor,” he said.
“Neither should you,” she shot back.
He lifted her arms above her head, holding them in place. She spread her legs wide, and her hips lifted off the bed in invitation. The hollow parts inside her heart needed filling, just like the spot between her thighs. He softly ground against her, positioning himself at her opening.
“We didn’t get to play last night, Lily. I regret that most.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Protecting me again.”
Bright moonlight cascaded into the room through the open blinds, bathing them both in silvery light. She could see his face clearly, the stony look in his eyes, his jaw set with determination.
“No one will ever touch you again, Lily. Just me.” He captured her mouth in a deep and demanding kiss, taking full possession of her mind and body.
He gripped her arms tighter, as if holding on for dear life. Lily sighed as he buried himself inside her, pumping his hips slowly. A new feeling—gentler, less animalistic, but just as potent and consuming.
“If he’d hurt you…,” Lang started, cupping her face. Her heart pounded with anticipation. She didn’t want to hear what he was fully capable of—she could imagine it just fine without confirmation. “Fuck, Lily, I’m falling hard.”
She enveloped him in her trembling arms. He’d found the strength to say what she couldn’t. All the internal struggling, the indecisiveness, and the fear of admitting what she truly felt didn’t seem to matter anymore. They both knew now—their bodies were speaking for them. He slammed into her this time, and she cried his name. Again. She melted underneath him.
“You’re mine, Lily.”
“Yours,” she agreed on a breathless whisper. “And you belong to me.”
He grinned then, pulling back. “Is that so?”
“I’ll put a ‘Property of Lily’ patch right here.” She grabbed two handfuls of ass, hugging him closer to her body.
Lang growled with approval. “I want to own you, Lily Gallo. Fuck you so hard and long. Every day. Every night. All you’ll ever think about is me.”
She raked her fingernails up his skin and he arched his back, sucking in a breath. He already dominated her thoughts, at work, home, even her dreams. She rocked her hips, unwilling to wait
any longer for fulfillment. “Fuck me.”
More had been said between them in the last couple of minutes than the weeks before. Now she wanted him to prove how much he cared. Lang didn’t require any guidance; he lifted her ankles to his shoulders, his intense blue eyes like a magnet. She loved his face, those perfect lips that wreaked havoc on her body.
Two hours later, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Lily opened her eyes to bright sunshine, feeling surprisingly refreshed considering her lack of adequate rest. She turned over, hoping to find Lang awake too. Instead, she discovered a note on his pillow.
Good morning, beautiful. Made a quick run to the house to help Rosa with the girls. Will be back before you’re done in the shower. If hungry, there’s always someone working in the kitchen. You make me feel alive again, Lily.
She smiled and folded the paper. A keeper for her scrapbook. She climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Lang’s shower had six massaging spray heads and a built-in stone chair. The man obviously appreciated certain luxuries, and she sat down, letting the hot water cascade over her. After nearly falling asleep, she finished up, ready for a cup of coffee.
Draped in a towel, she fished her cell phone out of her purse to check messages. Three texts from Tina and one from her father. Good news about her mother today—making progress with the rehabilitation program. She texted back a quick thank-you to her father, then called Tina.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” her friend said in greeting.
“If you knew how I spent most of the early morning…By the way, my mom is getting better every day.” Lily laughed, pleased she could actually say it out loud. Mom is getting better. And in time, she’d get out of rehab and start a new life.
“I’m glad she’s responding, Lily. I’ve been praying for her—my parents too. But now,” Tina said, the humor suddenly gone from her voice, “what happened last night? One minute we’re enjoying the music, the next, someone drags Vincent away, directing me to Valhalla.”
Lily knew the rules—she refused to discuss club business even with her best friend. “I can’t say anything, Tina. If you want to ask someone, talk to Lang or Vincent. I’m fine, happy really.”
“You going rogue on me, biker chick?”
Lily chuckled. “Don’t get too excited. Not ready to trade the Audi for a Harley just yet.”
“Maybe not,” she teased. “But I heard how great your ass looks plastered on Lang’s backseat.”
“Did you make any progress with Vincent?”
“Maybe.” She sounded elated. “If you want to know, ask him.”
Touché. “Sarcastic little bitch,” Lily said playfully.
“Me? Queen Bitch to you.”
They both laughed. “Lunch Monday?”
“Perfect,” she said, then disconnected.
Lily stashed her cell in her purse, then pulled her red bikini from her backpack. She put it on, then checked herself in the full-length mirror on Lang’s closet door. Glad she’d spent some time tanning at the pool in her apartment complex, she smiled at her reflection. After slipping into her white sundress and styling her hair with pigtails, she ventured to the kitchen.
“Mornin’,” Vincent called from his seat at one of the tables. “There’s mugs and a fresh pot of coffee on the breakfast bar, bagels and doughnuts too.”
Lily nodded. “Thanks. Guess who I just talked to?”
Vincent closed his newspaper, then looked at her. “Tina’s awake already? I dropped her off late.”
“That girl isn’t like anyone else I know. She’s good on a couple of hours of sleep. Should have seen her when we were cramming for finals in college. Last girl standing, literally. No wonder she graduated as salutatorian.”
“Salutatorian?” he asked, obviously impressed. “She never told me.”
Lily poured a cup of coffee and selected a blueberry bagel. She joined Vincent at his table. “Let me guess, the Tina bug bit you too.”
“What?”
“Tina bug,” she repeated. “Pretty sure you’re having an allergic reaction.” She nibbled on the soft bagel.
He shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. “She’s cool as shit.”
“I know.”
“But it won’t go any further than that.”
Lily arched a brow. Who was he trying to convince? “Want me to pass along that info?”
His green eyes went wide. “No.”
“Good, not sure she’d believe it anyway.”
Vincent crossed his arms over his chest. “I think I’m beginning to understand why Lang likes you.”
“Do I want to know?”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Thank you.” She picked up her cup of coffee. “Cheers to pains in the ass.”
Vincent stood up. “What a difference a night can make.”
“Yeah, about last night…”
“No words necessary,” he said, holding up his hand. “The son of a bitch had it coming. It’s important you understand how things work here. Never interfere, and most important, never talk about it outside these walls.”
“I know. Lang took me to school already.”
“Good. And you’re okay?” He touched her arm.
“Honestly? Better than I expected. I owe Sampson a big thank-you, though. Where is he?”
“Outside. Want me to send him in?”
“Please.”
She watched Vincent walk out the door, fully aware of his imposing presence. No wonder her best friend had a serious crush on him. So much like Lang—a behemoth with a heart the size of Texas.
Sampson came inside a few minutes later. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” She stood out of respect. “Thank you for intervening last night. I think Moco wanted to seriously hurt me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” she asked.
Sampson shifted on his feet and looked around the room. “Sure.”
She scooted to the breakfast bar. “How do you like it?”
“Black,” he answered.
She placed the cup on the table in front of him. “What kind of pie do you like, Sampson?” If she could show her gratitude in some little way, it would make her feel better.
He rubbed his chin. “Apple, pecan, Boston cream…”
“What if I offered you a lifetime supply of homemade desserts?”
“Promise to bake them in graham cracker crust and you’ve got a new friend.”
“Consider it done.”
Chapter 26
Lang sat cross-legged on his beach towel with Trisha perched on his lap, watching Lily lose at beach volleyball to Maya and Leigh. He’d set up the net as soon as they arrived on Padre Island. The girls instantly loved Lily, and even Rosa patted him on the back and complimented his taste in women. He couldn’t disagree, especially with the way she looked in that red bikini—her firm ass the target of his constant attention.
“Lang?” Trisha tapped him on the leg.
“Yes?”
“Are you going to marry Lily?”
He turned his little sister around. “That’s not a fair question.”
“Why not?”
He grinned, and tousled her blond curls. “Because I don’t have an answer.”
“Mommy and Daddy loved each other and they were married.”
“Yes,” he confirmed, his heart sinking into his stomach. “Sometimes it takes longer for people to fall in love, Trisha. We’re all different.”
She gave him a confused look. “But you keep staring at her, so that must mean you love her.”
Lang laughed. Trisha had a bad habit of asking too many questions—a common trait for six-year-olds, but he swore she took it to new levels. “How about we make a deal?”
“Okay.”
“The minute I make up my mind about Lily, you’ll be the first one I tell.”
“Cross your heart?”
Lang answered by making the symbol ov
er the left side of his chest. “Promise.”
“Lunch is ready,” Rosa called from the picnic table.
Good thing, he thought, as Lily made another diving leap for the ball, knocking it over the net but eating sand. She laughed enthusiastically, climbed to her feet, and wiped her backside off. She gazed in his direction and waved.
Maya and Leigh ran around the net and grabbed her hands, leading her to the table.
Lang swung Trisha around in the air and she squealed before he set her on the bench. “What are we having today, Rosa?”
“Egg salad or tuna fish sandwiches with spinach, cucumbers, and mayonnaise. Watermelon slices, pretzels, and banana pudding for dessert.”
“Let me guess,” Lang started. “Trisha planned the menu?” He tickled her underarms and she wiggled like a fish out of water.
“Leigh wanted egg salad!” Trisha corrected him.
Leigh rolled her eyes. “Did not, you little monster,” she denied. “I wanted Schlotzsky’s.”
“Keep eating there and you won’t be able to fit into any of your clothes,” Maya said, taking a gulp of lemonade.
“Behave,” Rosa chastised, sitting next to Maya. “We have a special guest today.”
The meal progressed nicely; Lily never appeared uncomfortable, answering all the inappropriate inquiries his family made. She was so patient and kind—he had guessed a long time ago that she’d make a great mother someday. But observing her in this environment, relaxed and having fun, he liked and admired her even more. Maybe too much. But he didn’t care; it seemed when he least expected it, the woman of his dreams had appeared from nowhere. And he’d said it before—he knew how fortunate he was. Unlike the men from her past, he’d fight to keep her.
After she finished her watermelon, she pointed. “So that’s Bob Hall Pier, and if we decide to cast a few lines, we’ll set up over there?”
“Best place to fish,” Maya told her. “There’s bathrooms and even a shower. If we fish off the pier, there’s usually a couple guys who will clean and fillet your fish for a few dollars. Keeps me from messing up my manicure.”
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