“I’m nervous,” I admit as Bas rings the doorbell.
“Nothin’ to be nervous about,” he replies, scratching the scruff lining his jaw. “They’re just people,” he mutters.
“Are there going to be kids here?” Ryder questions, standing in between us.
Before Bas has a chance to answer him, the door swings open and a man with dark eyes stands in front of us. Unfortunately for me, he’s not wearing his cut and I can’t place him. However, I do notice his eyes are really dark—like almost black and he’s got a really nice smile. It’s warm and inviting, a contradiction to the scar under his eye and the badass tattoos that cover every inch of his exposed arms.
“Well, well, look who the wind blew in,” the man says, pulling Bas into one of those many embraces. You know the kind when they sort of hug and pound each other on the back.
“Jack,” Bas acknowledges, revealing the tattooed badass as the mentally-ill president of the club.
“I was wondering if you were going to stand us up.”
“Traffic had me by the balls,” Bas explains as they break away.
“Always,” Jack agrees, turning his attention to me. His grin widens as he steps closer and lets his eyes travel the length of me. “Who do we have here?”
“This is Mac,” Bas introduces, pausing for a beat. “My brother’s old lady.”
Flinching at the introduction, I force a smile, but my reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Jack because he stares at me through narrowed eyes. Feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze, I extend my hand.
“Just Mac is fine,” I say hoarsely.
Lifting an eyebrow, Jack takes my hand and diverts his eyes to Bas.
“Well, then, ‘Just Mac’ it’s nice to meet you,” he says warmly, shaking my hand. “Your sister-in-law is quite the looker, brother and that accent…it’s real cute, sweetheart.”
I could correct Jack, but I don’t want to risk sounding like a snooty bitch. Instead, I release his hand and take another approach, hoping it’ll ease the tension from my shoulders and make me a little more comfortable around the man who might be the most intimidating person I’ve ever met.
“What accent?” I reply.
The wrinkles around his eyes pinch together as he lets out a hearty laugh. Without thinking too much into it, I wink at him.
“And, she’s got a sense of humor,” he adds, approvingly.
“This is my son, Ryder,” I continue. Sidestepping, I bring Ryder closer to me. “He’s a little shy,” I explain.
Dropping to a knee, he makes himself eye level with Ryder.
“Ryder, that’s a pretty badass name.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Ryder replies.
“Call me Uncle Jack,” he insists, back on his feet.
“Is that okay?” Ryder asks, looking up at Bas. I’m not sure if he’s asking permission because he doesn’t know Jack or if he’s being courteous to his legit uncle.
“Of course it’s okay,” Jack answers, staring at Bas, challenging him to disagree with him. Bringing his attention back to Ryder, he offers him his hand. “Do you like video games?”
“I like Minecraft,” Ryder replies, taking Jack’s extended hand.
“Well, you’re in luck we have a Minecraft expert here,” Jack tells him. As he leads my son into his home, Ryder looks over his shoulder with questioning eyes.
“It’s okay, baby,” I assure him.
Once they disappear inside the house, I glance at Bas.
“Don’t do that again,” I warn. “You got your dig in and made your point but maybe you can spare me anymore embarrassment.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t do that. Don’t pretend like you didn’t intentionally throw in that shit about being Junior’s old lady. You want to get a rise out of me? Do it behind closed doors and not in front of strangers.”
“Lot’s of shit I wouldn’t mind doing behind closed doors, Mac, having my ass handed to me by you isn’t one of them. Now, if you’re finished with your tantrum, I’d like to make sure Jack hasn’t fucking patched in Ryder,” he growls.
Leaving me on the porch, he enters the house. The stubborn streak inside me wants to remain on the porch and damn him to hell. However, the reasonable side of me knows that wouldn’t make a great first impression. Keeping that in mind, I walk inside the house.
As soon as I close the door behind me, I’m rooted in place. There are a whole lot more people than I had anticipated. Aside from the dozen or so men, there are women and children, spanning from infants to teenagers. The second the men see Bas, they huddle around him welcoming him back and offering their condolences.
“Thank you but it’s not necessary,” he says flatly. “Junior has been dead to me for a long time. All that’s changed is the fact he’s finally going to be buried six feet deep.” Silence falls over the room as everyone stares at him expressionlessly, trying to figure a reason behind his crass attitude over his brother’s demise.
“That his kid Jack’s fawning over?” The man with the long dark hair asks.
“You never mentioned having a brother back in Albany,” the bald man comments.
With a nod, Bas replies to the first question.
“That’s my nephew and the woman standing like a soldier by the front door is his mother.”
While I appreciate him leaving Junior’s name out of the introduction, I feel like a fish swimming in a glass bowl when all eyes turn to me. Under their scrutiny, I step away from the door, force a smile and offer a wave.
“Hi, ya’ll,”
“Well aren’t you a cute little thing,” one of them says, flashing his ridiculously sexy grin. “I’m Deuce,” he adds, closing the distance between us.
“Mac,” I say, taking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Oh, darlin’ the pleasure is all mine.”
“Laying it on a bit thick, brother,” another member says. This one is tall like Deuce and has incredibly striking eyes.
“That’s Cobra, my girl’s twin brother and honorary pain in my ass.”
“Fuck you,” Cobra fires back.
“Depends on the position,” Deuce retorts.
“I swear you guys are worse than the children.”
At the sound of a female voice, I turn my head and spot Jack standing beside a beautiful blonde that I guess is his wife. Dressed in a pair of the red spiky heels, tight black pants and a white tank top, she hardly looks like a woman who has spent the day cooking for all these people.
“I’m Reina, Jack’s wife,” she says. As I go to shake her hand, her husband wraps his arm around her shoulders and brings her closer to him.
“Jack’s everything is more like it,” he corrects, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
In a house full of people, they looked at one another as if it was just the two of them. It’s beautiful to witness and if I’m being honest, I’m a little envious of them.
“They’re the real deal,” Bas says.
Following the sound of his gruff voice, I notice he’s moved from his circle of brothers to beside me. Unable to meet his gaze, I focus on his leather vest.
Once upon a time, we were the real deal too.
Once upon a time, we dreamed of being Jack & Reina.
Once upon a time, we were the fairy tale.
Too bad that book closed before we reached the happily ever after.
Chapter Fourteen
They fucking love her.
Though I’m not surprised—Mac has a way about her, always has and I gather she always will. She rolls with the punches and holds no bars. She can easily worm her way into any conversation and make you feel like you’ve been friends with her forever. I used to love that I could take her anywhere and not have to worry if she was getting along. When I was prospecting, I thought it was a blessing. Now, around these guys, I can’t help but think it’s a curse.
I’ve spent the better portion of my time in Brooklyn keeping my distance and making sure I don’
t get too attached. As a man who has been burnt by not one but two clubs, trust didn’t come easy for me. The last thing I needed, was to get swallowed up by that whole property of Parrish bullshit. I didn’t need a surrogate family. My job was to earn and uphold the values and ethics associated with my patch. Sunday dinners with connecting tables and kids darting out from every corner wasn’t my scene. We weren’t mobsters, we were fucking bikers. Sundays were for long rides and clubhouse parties. Not six trays of lasagna but who was I to say anything. I was new to this brotherhood and right now, I was at their mercy.
With Mac and Ryder invading my senses, I didn’t know if I was coming or going anymore. Especially after the blow, she landed last night, revealing she and Junior never got hitched. On top of that, she made it perfectly clear she wanted no part of Junior’s death and more than that, she didn’t want to be labeled his. My mind was racing, and I was wondering what else there was that I was unaware of. All I have to do is ask and she’ll bare her secrets. The problem with that is, I’m not sure I can handle her truth. Mainly because I don’t trust anyone. Not her and sure as fuck, not myself.
“It’s about time to roll out of here,” Jack says, taking the empty seat next to me. Tearing my eyes away from Mac as she sits with the other women, I give him my attention.
“Ready when you are,” I reply, omitting I was ready to go two hours ago. Hell, I was ready for church before the first course. The sooner we sit down and discuss Mac’s predicament, the sooner Jack can advise me on what the fuck I do from here.
“I’ll tell Mac we’re ready,” I add, slapping my hands to my knees.
“Why would you do that?” Jack asks, crossing a leg over his knee. “You going to take her and the kid to the garage?”
“I wasn’t going to bring them inside if that’s what you’re getting at,” I defend.
“So, your plan is to have them what, hang out in that piece of shit truck? For fuck’s sake, that thing is as worn as I am. I’m actually embarrassed to have it parked in front of my house.”
Talk about kicking a man when he’s down. Jack’s another one with no filter.
“That truck is sentimental to me.”
“It belongs in the fucking Smithsonian,” he grunts. “Mac and the boy can stay here. She’s getting along just fine with the other women and look at Ryder, the kid is having a ball with Pipe’s stepson.”
“Tommy is a teenager you think he wants Ryder hanging on his leg?” I question, glancing behind me where Ryder and Tommy are playing Xbox.
“What’s the real issue here, Bas? You got something against the club?”
Ah fuck.
“No, of course not,” I say quickly. “I appreciate everyone welcoming them and all that but, I think you got the wrong idea as to what this is.”
“They your family?”
Well, if that’s not a loaded fucking question. Lucky for me, Jack doesn’t give me a chance to answer him.
“Any family of yours is family of mine. Mac and Ryder will stay here. Period. The end,” he declares, rising to his full height. “Now, you’re on two wheels if you’re riding with me, so I suggest you unhitch your Harley from that junk box. We leave in ten.”
“Whatever you say, Prez,” I reluctantly agree. Following his lead, I push back my chair and stand. “You want me to round up the guys?”
“No, Blackie’s on it.”
Nodding, I start to walk away but pause. Since we sat down to eat and I realized Wolf was missing from the table, I’ve been meaning to ask about him. When I left for Kentucky, his son was still in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound.
“Hey,” I call, turning to face him. “How come Wolf isn’t here? That motherfucker loves shit like this,” I say, waving a hand around the crowded room. “His son still in the hospital?”
At the mention of Wolf, Jack’s eyes go dark and I watch him roll his neck from side to side. Reaching for his cut that hangs over the back of a chair, he fixes me with a look that tells me I’ve asked too much.
“That’s a story for the table,” he replies, shrugging his vest on. “Handle your business and meet me out front,” he orders before disappearing into the kitchen.
Alone, I glance across the room. Mac lifts her head and our eyes lock. I don’t have to speak or beckon her with the curl of my finger. Like so many times before, we communicate silently. She excuses herself from the table and makes her way toward me.
“Is it time to leave?” she asks, bringing a red solo cup to her lips. After she takes a sip, she pulls it away from her mouth and offers it to me. “This sangria is delicious, try it.”
Shaking my head, I gently push her hand away.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask, watching as she takes another sip.
“Is it weird that I am?” she asks, setting the cup on the table next to us. “I mean, I know I should be crying in a corner somewhere but, these people are great. For a couple hours I forgot my life was a mess,” she adds, combing her fingers through her wavy hair. “Anyway, I’ll go get Ryder.”
I don’t know why, but for some fucking reason, I imagine her in her room at the clubhouse, knees drawn to her chest, weeping as she watches her son sleep. Even though it’s an image I’ve conjured in my imagination, I can’t suppress the tightening I feel deep in my chest.
“Wait,” I call, reaching out to grab her wrist. Her eyes dart to where my fingers touch her skin and I take advantage of catching her off guard by closing the distance between us. As she lifts her head, her body brushes against mine and those honey eyes peer back at me conveying a mixture of confusion and something fucking lethal—something I ain’t been on the receiving end of in a long fucking time. In an instant, I’m assaulted by more memories of Mac. Dangerous fucking memories. Like the noises she makes when she comes and the way her sweet body was always so pliant in my arms.
“Bas,” she murmurs, running her tongue over her lower lip.
Closing my eyes, I give into my weak mind and picture that mouth trailing down my chest, licking and sucking her way towards my cock.
“Fuck,” I growl as I picture her taking my shaft down her throat.
My eyes snap open and I quickly release my hold on her. Too bad she doesn’t return the favor. Instead, she holds my mind, body and soul hostage. The laughter surrounding us fades, my duty forgotten, the danger chasing her gone too—all I can do is stare into her eyes and wonder if she feels everything I’m feeling.
“I’m a fool,” I mutter, shaking my head.
A fool for wanting her.
A fool for loving her when I should fucking hate her.
A plain and simple fool.
“What?” she croaks.
“I’m a fool for thinking I’d be able to keep my head around you.”
At my admission, her eyes soften, and she takes a step closer.
“I’ve gotta go,” I stammer, inching away from her.
“Go? I thought—”
“Ryder is having a good time,” I interrupt. Glancing over at my nephew, I notice he’s moved on from video games and is now playing with Cobra’s daughter and Jack’s son.
“Bas,” she starts.
“Not now, Mac,” I say firmly, meeting her gaze. “I gotta get my head screwed on straight and go to church. You’ll be fine here.”
“What just happened between us?” she whispers.
“Nothing worth discussing,” I reply gruffly.
It’s a dick thing to say especially knowing she can still read me. That’s not something time nor distance can change. Once someone has the power to know you better than you know yourself, they’ve got that shit forever.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I tip my chin as her nostrils flare with anger. I’ve managed to piss her off, something I don’t remember doing much of in the past. Then again, we used to do a lot more lovin’ than we ever did fightin’.
“I’ll see you in a little while,” I say, tipping my chin as I shove my hands into my pockets.
Desperate
to flee, I brush past her without giving her a chance to reply and make my way outside where my brothers wait on me.
“It’s about fucking time,” Black shouts over the thundering sound of his engine. “Stryker took your bike off the trailer.”
“I would’ve detailed it if I knew you were going to take your sweet time hauling ass,” Stryker adds, adjusting his helmet.
“Cut him some slack. If you had a hard-on for your sister-in-law you’d be all fucked up too,” Pipe shouts.
“She’s not my fucking sister-in-law,” I growl, throwing my leg over my bike.
“Then tap that shit and put yourself out of your fucking misery,” Pipe fires back.
Before I can argue any further, Jack lifts a hand and twirls his finger in the air, signaling it’s time to ride. Simultaneously our engines roar to life and the ground quakes beneath our tires. Burning rubber, Jack peels away from his house. Blackie takes his rightful place on the left side of our president while Pipe moves to Jack’s right. With the wind in my face and the sun beating down on my back, I follow suit with the rest of the club.
It isn’t long before the aluminum sign hanging over Pipe’s garage comes into view and I subconsciously breathe a sigh of relief. While I might not be willing to succumb to Jack’s family values, it might be time to accept this broken-down garage filled with secondhand parts is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real home. It’s also time to come to terms with the fact these men— these loyal, ball-breaking men, are not the enemy. They don’t deserve to pay for the sins of all the brothers that played me dirty in the past. They’ve done nothing but give me a place to hang my leathers and now, without so much as a question or a sideways glance, they’ve welcomed Mac and Ryder into their world over a fucking tray of lasagna. It’s funny how going back to the place I called home for so long seemingly put things in perspective, making me realize where we come from isn’t always where we belong.
They say blood is thicker than water.
I say fuck blood.
Chapter Fifteen
The Devil Don't Sleep Page 10
