by V. Theia
"Hel'o." He rasped.
"Hawk? It's Zara. Eh…Rider's Zara." Like he wouldn't know who she was, she rolled eyes nervously.
"I’m guessing Rider's been taken prisoner or he fell and broke his neck if you're the one to call me, girl," he called her girl, it was a thing, and she found it oddly cute. The others called her Z-girl, and she was Rider’s Icy. Soon she was going to be Mom.
She smiled to herself. Surprisingly, it wasn't only Rider and the boys who missed Hawk, she missed seeing that enormous grump, the clubhouse wasn't the same without his moody shadow skulking around glowering at everyone, especially her. Hawk always looked at her like he assumed she was carrying a live culture of the black plague in her pocket.
"No, nothing like that, Rider is fine, he's packing and----"
"Packing for what?" Hawk interrupted, his voice very serious, but then Zara had never heard him be anything but serious.
"We have to go to Texas. That's why I'm calling." She hedged and played with the corner of the pale lemon tablecloth she'd bought from Target just this last weekend. Helen, Uncle Jed's wife, called it the nesting syndrome. Zara didn't know anything about that, she just liked the tablecloth and wanted the house to look nice. "I know it's none of my business, and I don't want to know anything, don’t think I’m asking, so, anyway." Ramble thy name is Zara.
"Spit it out, girl. Not getting any younger. Does Ri know you're calling me?"
"Actually." Considering the lie was just there she went for the less complicated route and told the truth, her tongue worked itself down from the roof of her mouth, too many secrets already. "No, and I'd prefer it that way because ... well, he said you wouldn't be interested in knowing, but I ... listen, Hawk, Gia is in the hospital."
On the other end, she heard Hawk take a loud inhale and knew right then in that second, she'd made the right decision. Without knowing the facts or the whys, and it was probably best, being Rider's old lady and loyal first to him she didn't want a secret of Hawk's, because Zara had a sneaking suspicion Rider would get to know whatever this was, one day, and all hell would break lose, hopefully they had their baby by then and it would calm her biker-man into not killing his best friend.
"What? What happened? Is she ... " There was true fear in Hawk's voice now.
Zara rushed on. Hearing feet up above. Rider would be down any second.
"No, nothing like that, but her appendix burst at work, and she's having surgery as we speak, after that she should be absolutely fine and won't be in the hospital too long. Rider and I are heading to the airport, her parents are with her. I just ... I just thought you'd want to know, Hawk."
Dead air.
And it went on.
And on.
Until Zara cleared her throat, sure he'd hung up on her.
"Hawk?"
"Yeah, girl. I heard.”
“So. Anyway. That was all. I need to go. Bye, Hawk.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
In that moment, Zara’s heart squeezed in her chest, it had been the right move but felt shitty to deliver that kind of news. Whether Hawk cared, or he cared, he sounded disturbed.
She began to press the red disconnect, when---
“Girl?”
“Yeah? I’m still here, Hawk.” Did he want her to pass on a message to Gia, maybe?
“Thanks.” And he hung up.
Just as well, and great timing, she thought, as Rider barreled his tall self through the kitchen doorway, his face a tight stern mask. “Ready to go, Icy?”
“Yeah. Hold up, honey.” She was already grabbing her purse, they wouldn’t need much, just a day or two of overnight clothes, once they’d heard about Gia’s surgery it was a done decision to take a trip, Rider was too worried about his baby sister to rely on relayed messages to find out about her condition. Hopefully, by the time they got to Texas, everything would be alright.
Remembering to text Angela, Zara felt bad they were going to miss her birthday this weekend, she would be fifteen, and being the first since she lost her parents Zara had planned a whole big thing for her. Soon as they were back, she’d spoil the girl shopping together.
As it was, she was nervous due to more than just worrying over Gia. It would be the first-time Zara was meeting his parents. And from all accounts, Rider’s father was a difficult man. She went to him, leaned up and cupped his cheeks, his head fell forward to compensate their size difference, stroking his beard, she kissed his lips, once, twice, falling in love with him all over again. “Gia is going to be okay, biker-man.” Sharing a few moments with him in their own little oasis, Zara looped arms around his waist.
Rider drew in a breath, resting his forehead against hers, she smiled and kissed him lightly again. “Love you, Icy.”
“Yeah, you do.” She grinned and laced their fingers. “Come on, let’s go.”
******
Across in Louisiana, the heat was blazing hot, but Hawk didn’t notice the clammy warmth or the sweat dripping into his eyes, the dead muscle inside his chest busy restarting making him move before he even realized a single step. Striding through the NOLA chapter clubhouse, into the room he’d been using as his own, he had his backpack pulled out of the closet and he began stuffing clothes into it with no care of how he did it.
It took him precisely three minutes to have his shit together, he found Shark in his office, letting the southern Renegade Souls president know he was taking off.
They shook hands briefly, while he hated the dirty town, the prez had been a fair man taking him in as he had, he would have tried to convey his gratitude for a few minutes longer if his heart wasn’t already lodged in his fucking throat, he had no patience to stand around and talk bullshit he couldn’t give a shit about.
He was on his bike a minute later. Gunning the engine. His mind and eyes focused on one thing only.
He’d arrive in Texas around eight and half-hours’ time if traffic was on his side.
Goddamn, the one time he'd ask for divine intervention.
The little bit of a thing was hurt.
She was fucking hurting and having surgery.
Now he felt like a total heel for how he’d spoken to her recently. Weeks had gone by and she hadn’t reached out again. He’d thought it was for the best, even as his mood plummeted harder into the dirt, he felt like shit, he should have called her sooner to apologize but he hadn’t been able to find the words. He’d been a fucking tool.
It was for the best, he supposed and other fucking lies he rammed down his own throat.
And yet he was speeding off to Texas to be nearby, he had no other choice, his fucking body was dragging him there even as his mind was screaming.
No other choice. He repeated over and over. He had to make sure for himself Gia was going to be alright.
She would never know he was there. No one would know.
He’d stick around only for a while to make sure he decided an hour into his grueling journey, he wouldn't fucking sleep ever again if there was a chance Gia wasn't going to be fine.
She wouldn’t need to know.
He could keep a discreet watch on her without interfering in her life.
Yeah, he fed that lie to himself like it was fucking chocolate pudding, eat it, you dipshit, choke on the fucking lie.
After all, Hawk was all about the selfless.
It had nothing to do with him being fucking addicted to the little bit.
Not that.
Nah. Hawk was a fucking selfless savior, practically a saint. Where were his wings?
Staying out of the way undetected wouldn’t be a problem, it wasn't his first spy rodeo.
As much as Hawk was lying and telling himself he’d move on, head to the opposite end of the country away from Texas, hell, he could go back to Colorado, no one was pointing a finger at him for Hades’ disappearance, he could easily go home, he should go home, being around his club brothers was what kept him stable most of the time, but as he rode at breakneck speeds, weaving his Harley in and out of vehicles,
taking in none of the scenery, his mind only on one five foot five package of Greek heritage, he’d already stationed himself mentally in Texas. His mind was there, he just had to get his fucking body to join it.
He had always been heading there, he just hadn't admitted it to himself.
This day was as inevitable as the night he killed someone when he was eleven years old. Hawk had been out running himself ever since.
Some things, even murder, was cast in stone from his birth for some unlucky fucker like him, he couldn't say he won the DNA lottery and he was no love-match, not for Gia or anyone.
Hawk had always known it would take only one event to get him closer to Gia.
His Gia being sick? Fucking monumental event he couldn’t ignore. As it was, his gut was burning like corroded acid, he needed to piss like a camel and he was starving, but he wouldn’t stop until he had to refuel in a couple of hours’ time.
Couldn’t stop riding, not until he’d stormed through Henry Memorial hospital to check for himself little bit was still breathing.
Through his phone and earbuds, he listened to Metallica to quieten the noise of his own head.
Realistically he knew she’d be fine, she was in the best care, Rider, if no one else, would kick up a stink to make sure his baby sister got the best doctors, he was an overbearing dickhead like that, but where Gia was concerned, Hawk didn’t deal in realism or logic, his vision was a kaleidoscope of unrealistic obsession for a woman he could so easily ruin if he allowed himself to have her.
He was a mortal man with more flaws than bones, shackled to a fantasy of his own nightmare making.
Couldn’t get close to her. Wouldn’t.
But he’d be near. Letting himself lick the air of his fixation, but no more than that.
Keeping an eye on her … until.
Yeah, he thought, feeling like the biggest jerk. Until.
******
“As much as the filthy verbal foreplay is doing it for me, how about you just climb on up here and ride me, beautiful? Get your hands on me. Anything. Something. Fucking rip my clothes off if you feel the need to. Tease me, give me a reason to give it to you rough." Preacher groaned around the edges of their kiss, his breath fanning her lips, she laughed but kept right on licking her tongue into his mouth.
"God. What an animal you are. Hold still." He wanted his clothes torn? She took hold of both sides of his blue denim shirt and parted it swiftly, sending buttons flying. The stunned lusted look on his face made it worthwhile ruining his shirt. "I always wanted to do that. It was better than I imagined." Wearing a black wifebeater underneath she lifted it to reveal the hard planes of his ribbed belly and chest, fingers drawing circles over each sexy sculpted bump. Mine. All mine. "This you'll have to take off yourself like a big boy. Do it slowly, let me watch."
The torn shirt was discarded onto the floor, fast followed by the fitted undershirt hastily yanked over his head.
Preacher stalked forward and that was exactly how she felt; stalked, she was pure gooseflesh. Eyes so dark now the green almost washed out by his pupils, the lust in there was unimaginable that it was all for her, her gaze roamed and she clocked the thick outline of his cock through the pants.
Ruby shivered, let him stalk her, her feet backing up and backing up, his gaze challenging, it was as if her body was under his command. "Tell me how badly you need it from me."
"I need it." Immediate answer. She wore only panties and bra, no point in lying that she didn't want fucking.
"Tell me how badly, Ruby."
"I want to be fucked stupid, I want it so badly I'm thinking of pushing you down and impaling myself on your long, thick cock." How was that for honesty? She heaved in oxygen, watched her truth pour molten lava into his gaze.
This passion was technicolor, she saw everything vividly.
He reached out, grasped the tops of her arms, pulling her in until she was up against his smattering of chest hair. Nothing had ever felt this good and real before.
"I'm going to give it to you." He teased. A hand slid around to her butt, pushed into the back of her panties and squeezed her ass cheeks almost to the point of pain, Ruby moaned and bumped her hips into his wanting more, her pelvic core vibrating, anticipating the first shove home, how he would stretch her out, make her take it by whispering sweet dirty endearments in her ear. "And when I've made you come as hard as you've ever come before, my sweet wet Ruby, and your darling little pussy is quaking from the blast of my climax rocking the tender walls." She sucked in a breath, could picture that clearly. Hungered for it. My man can out-dirty talk your man. Her nails left half-moon crescents on his forearms, kissing his chest she bit his nipple and was satisfied at his grunt. "Then you will get your chance to climb your gorgeous body over me and impale yourself on my cock. Got it?" There was no other way to describe it other than Preacher’s lust goaded hers. One look from him and she was readily wet.
"Yes." She panted. She couldn't think of a better word than yes.
Yes, fuck me. Yes, love me. Yes, to everything he offered in the depths of his gaze as he pulled her in, held her face and kissed her softly. Yes, Preacher.
Ruby was no longer that faltering woman living life on the borders, forever missing out on the good and the perfect, she was now living it.
She was Mrs, Asher Priest and she was saying yes.
To everything.
To life, to love and to the love of her life.
Yes, to her Preacher man.
EPILOGUE
“Hey, God. It’s Ruby Priest. The help I asked for? It was perfect … thank you.” – Ruby
Looking up at the early evening sky, no stars to be seen, Preacher felt his chest compress, the weight of what he was doing made him feel insignificantly smaller, a dot in the world and his brother looking down on him like the sultan he'd always been.
A great man. The best man. He’d always have that legacy, he’d make sure Seb and whatever kids he might have in the future grow up knowing they had a great uncle.
Sliding a hand into his jeans pocket he pulled out the single cigarette and lighter, letting them kiss he took a long pull inhaling the smoke.
"Last one, I promise. I mean it this time." And he did. Or he hoped to fuck he did. He and Ruby had a kid to take care of now, and who knows, maybe he'd knock her up with little Priests one of these days far in the future, he wanted his wife all to himself for a while yet, so he had to be around with two healthy working lungs, didn't he, to play catch and to run after naked toddlers who didn't want to get dressed on a morning for church. Fuck him, Ruby was gonna want him to go to church. He didn't even own a tie. The church would have to take him as he was or fuck it, he was already damned ten times over.
Preacher never assumed his PTSD would magically disappear, if only, he mused, this step was purely for his own heart, he'd held on too long.
Knowing when to let go was harder than doing it because you were acknowledging it needed to be done. And it fucking hurt right in his sternum.
Breathing in and out, he took a smoke and sent the plume into the atmosphere. "Have you looked at my lady and boy? You'd like them, she's far too good for my old ass, it’s as though I fell in pig shit and won the lotto. And the boy, Shane, fuck, he's about the best damn kid, smart, too. I think he takes after me with that." Preacher laughed shakily in his throat. "I'm gonna teach him bikes, just like you did for me, without all the beatings. I hope I can be as good of a dad as you were a brother."
Get on with it, Priest. He was stalling. Like it mattered. But it felt like it mattered. It fucking mattered to Preacher.
"I bet you're up there aren't you, Shaneo, on your glorified golden throne watching the Broncos, thinking thank fuck, you melodramatic slow-ass, what took you so long? Yeah, you are. Gloating bonehead. I miss that about you." Preacher smiled "I would have liked to see you do better at this dead brother thing. I was running on zero exposure, cut me a break, okay? So here it is."
Fingers twitched until he had to drop the smok
e or risk burning himself. Running both hands over his head, he inhaled and then exhaled. Why was this so damn hard? He couldn't breathe so good.
But it was the right thing. For him, for his life. For the life, he was making with Ruby and Seb, even for his parents and Tyler. The pain manifested in his chest, but the pain didn't always mean something bad. It said he was here, he was alive and he was no longer numb.
Letting go was daunting.
"I have to set myself free, bro. No more dwelling on what ifs, blaming myself and wishing we could change places. I have people relying on me now, people who need me, fuck, who I need. I need them so much, can you understand?" Preacher, keeping his shit together, inhaled hard enough he almost tasted the lining of a lung. He released it on a steady tremor, glancing up as if his brother’s face was just out of sight. He just bet Shane was smiling and saying; thank fuck, Ash.
His brother had been a good guy, wanting the best for everyone.
Knowing that, still, his heart burned with buried grief. "This is it, Shaneo, but only for now. You'll see this pretty face again one day. And prepare for me to beat your record in baseball, you better believe it's on. I've got sixty years of practice ahead of me."
With no more to say, he turned on his boots, the dirt in his backyard dry from the warm weather underfoot, the light of the kitchen and open back door warming in greeting to Preacher. He smiled and took the steps back to his family.
Stopped. There was one more thing he had to say. He had to get the words to come out. His voice tight, twisted in emotion, he cast a look skyward and sent a smile up. "Bye, brother, I’ll see you in the light. I love you."
And then Preacher walked through the door, listened to Ruby and Seb running around the lower half of the house laughing and squealing. He grinned locking up, to go join his family.
