by Ava Ashley
The crowd is going wild. It is as clear to me as it is to everyone else that the Maneater is not recovering. He is going to die there as I pound him, over and over and over, in the back of the head. The next thing I know, five big guys are in the ring with me, pulling me off of the Maneater. The room is spinning and I have a splitting headache, blood running into my eyes, but I am able to make out one thing.
“We have a winner!” the announcer yells. “Cooper ‘Veni Vidi Vici’ Quin has defeated the Maneater!”
And then my love is up in the ring, her little arms wrapped around me, and I finally feel peace.
“I love you, baby,” she says. I don’t answer. Instead, I just kiss her, right there in the middle of the ring, in front of everyone.
She is mine now, forever.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Savannah
I can’t believe he did it. The fight was close the whole time, but towards the end it really looked like the Maneater was going to win. And then, out of nowhere, Cooper seemed to be seized with some superpower and just destroyed him. It was clear to everyone that Cooper was going to kill the Maneater up there, so Daddy waved his personal guards, the biggest guys in the Santos motorcycle club, aside from the Maneater, to go pull Cooper off of the Maneater before he killed him. It is a mercy that Cooper would not have been shown if roles were reversed, but as a Santos motorcycle club member and one of Dad’s favorite men, at that, he saves him from the death that would have been Cooper’s fate. All is well.
I didn’t care who was watching or what Daddy would think or what people would say. I jumped out of my seat and ran up onto the ring to be with my man. I wasn’t willing to wait one more moment to be near him again. And then he kissed me, and even though he was covered in blood and sweat, both his own and the Maneater’s, it was one of the best kisses of my life. It was a possessive kiss, where he claimed me in front of everyone, their opinions be damned. From now on, we will be together forever.
When the kiss ends and we pull apart—all too soon, considering that I would like it to go on forever—my father is standing up in the ring next to us.
He laughs and takes the microphone from the announcer. “I was skeptical of this...friendship...between my daughter and Cooper ‘Veni Vidi Vici’ Quin when I first learned of it,” he booms. “But the pretty boy has proved his worth. Cooper Quin is now officially an honorary member of the Santos Motorcycle Club. He will take on the full rights and responsibilities of a member of the Santos Motorcycle Club, including the right to shred the streets on a badass, tricked-out Harley.” He pauses for several minutes until the screaming and cheering of the crowd dies down enough for him to be heard again. “But most of all, I have to say that I will be proud to call him my son.”
At this, the crowd really loses it. Dad thumps Cooper on the back and I can only imagine how much it must hurt, after all the injuries Cooper sustained in the fight, but he just grins and turns to kiss me again. I melt into him, but make myself pull away before I completely lose control. We step around the medics kneeling around the Maneater’s massive, immobile body, now a harmless mound of bloodied flesh, and climb down out of the ring.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Savannah
Even though he is injured and limping a bit as we walk down the aisle, Cooper has his arm wrapped protectively around my shoulders. He pushes his overeager new fans back and glares at the rest. The ‘don’t mess with me’ look on his face, still covered in both his own sweat and blood, and that of the Maneater, suffices for all but the boldest of the fans. Vlad is already waiting at the exit of the warehouse and, as I never saw him arrive at the fight, I am a little surprised to see him there. But it makes sense that he would be, as Cooper's best friend.
"Well done, son," Vlad says, giving Cooper a quick man-to-man hug.
"Thanks," Cooper says. "And thanks again for everything you have done for me—for us."
"Don't even mention it," Vlad says, waving it off. "But I hope you aren't about to tell me you're planning on going home." He gives Cooper a skeptical look.
"Well, actually..." Cooper begins.
"We're going to the hospital," I say.
"But I'm fine," Cooper protests.
"Listen to your woman," Vlad says, nodding. "You just took on the fucking Maneater and I know it wasn't just my imagination that saw him rattle your head around a bit. I am not a betting man, but I would put a month's wages on the fact that you have a concussion."
Cooper opens his mouth like he is about to protest again, but winces and puts a hand to his head instead. "Fine," he concedes, through gritted teeth. "Let's go. But no ambulance."
"Deal," I agree, popping up on my tip-toes to give him a kiss on his cheek.
"I'm pretty sure Savannah can take it from here," Vlad says with a smile at me. "So I'm going to go get Bettina and we will see you two at the hospital."
"Sounds good," I agree.
"Which hospital will you be going to?" Vlad asks.
"Weiss Memorial Hospital, right?" I say, after briefly considering which one was probably closest.
"Yeah," Cooper says. He winces when he nods his head and I hold on to his elbow a little tighter. For once, I am the one providing the physical support for him. After all he has done for me, I am more than happy to be able to return the favor, even just in this smallest of ways. Cooper leans on me, and a feeling of loving and being loved spreads through my chest like the spreading glow of a candle's flame.
"See you soon," Vlad says, as we part ways just outside the exit of the warehouse. Vlad heads to the parking lot to get in his car while we head to the street corner, where I flag down a cab.
"Weiss Memorial Hospital, please," I say, as we climb into the cab. "And as quickly as possible."
We are at the hospital in a flash and, once the receptionist notices who Cooper is and gets the obligatory autograph on a piece of hospital stationery, Cooper is immediately given a room and assigned a doctor. A nurse brings us to a private treatment room and runs the concussion tests, then leaves us alone while she goes to take a look at the test results.
As soon as the door closes, Cooper pushes himself up onto his elbows on the bed. "I think you owe me something."
I slide a hand into the neck of my shirt, pulling the folded-up note out of the left cup of my bra. "Your victory kiss," I say, with a smile. "There is nothing I would rather do." So I kiss him—sweet and slow and deep, like a love that suddenly has years and years and years to unfold. We don't have to cram our passion into an intense few moments. We can delight in it for the rest of our lives. In that moment, the sterile smells and anxious sounds of the hospital fall away and I feel what it is to be unencumbered and happy.
There is a knock at the door and I assume that it is the nurse, respecting our privacy by knocking before entering, so I walk over to let her in. Instead, I see my father there, motorcycle helmet in hand.
"Hello, Savannah," he says, as somberly as ever.
"Father," I say. I don't know what to say to him. I am emotionally torn between being angry at him for putting Cooper and me through all of that and making Cooper risk his life, and being happy because he is my dad, one of the only family members I have left, and he is here and talking to me. Since I can't figure out what I should say, I just leave it at that and step aside, letting him into the room.
He walks over to the chair by the doctors cabinets, a good two or three yards away from Cooper, and takes a seat. He puts his helmet down on the cabinet, surely breaking a hundred hospital rules at once about sterility and whatnot, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlacing his fingers.
"I came here to say three things," he says, in his usual even, neutral tone. "First, I wanted to congratulate you—both of you—for standing up for your love today and winning the good fight. Love like that is rare and you should treasure it forever. The last time I've seen, or shown, love like that was when my wife was still alive." It's the most personal, emotional thing I can recall him eve
r saying and I am floored. I have to remind myself not to let my mouth hang open like a fly trap.
"Second, I want to apologize to you, Savannah." Here, I start wondering if I am the one with the concussion. Did I hear that right? Did Flint Santos just apologize for something? Impossible. And yet...
"I want to apologize for sinking so deep into the motorcycle club life after your mother's and sister's deaths that I completely forgot to honor that you and your brother are still alive. And I made you give up your lives to the motorcycle club life, too, and that was wrong of me." He cracks a wan smile. "But you're a Santos and, true to form, you weren't going to let anyone tell you what to do. I'm proud of you, daughter."
I feel a tear sliding down my cheek and wipe it away. I am not sad, just overjoyed and overwhelmed. "It's okay, Daddy."
My father shakes his head. "No," he says. "It isn't okay. But I am going to try to do a better job as a father going forwards. And that brings me to point three." He turns his gaze to Cooper, who pushes himself up to a fully upright sitting position. It is clear that he is the one who will be primarily addressed next.
"Yes, sir," Cooper says.
"I made you an honorary Santos motorcycle club member today, because you earned it," Flint started. "But because you are important in my daughter's life, I don't want you brought into this thug life any more than you want to be in it. And so I make you an honorary member in title, but excuse you from all duties associated with full membership."
"Oh, Daddy!" This is it, I finally lose it. I run over to my father and wrap my arms around him in the first hug we have shared in over a decade. After a brief moment of stiff shock, he hugs me back.
"Thank you, sir," Cooper says.
When Vlad and Bettina, a small, round woman with a big smile and silvering hair, come into the room a few minutes later, followed closely by the nurse, the three of us look like the perfect tableau of a happy family, smiling, and laughing, and catching up on so much lost time.
I do not know what the future will bring, but I know that I am excited to find out, with Cooper by my side.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cooper
I get sent home from the hospital a few hours later, with a mild concussion and the instruction to stay in bed and take it easy for a while. After all I've been through, that doesn't sound so bad. Especially with Savannah here, lying warm in my arms.
“I love you,” Savannah whispers.
“I love you, too,” I say. But there’s an unspoken ‘but’ hanging in the air on her side. “Shoot.”
“What?” she looks confused.
“I know there is something else that you need to say,” I say. “So say it. I am listening. We have all the time in the world.” I wrap my arm over her, hugging her securely to my chest.
“It’s not a ‘but’ about loving you,” Savannah starts. “Because I do! I really do. But...now what?”
“Now what?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow.
“I was terrified, absolutely beside myself with fear for your life, during that fight,” she says, her voice catching with emotion. “Every time he hit you, I didn’t know if that was it. If that was the time that you wouldn’t get back up.”
I kiss the top of her head, hugging her to my chest, “I wasn’t going to abandon you. I promised.”
“I know,” she said. “But people can’t always keep their promises. And if the Maneater killed you...I, I just don’t know how I would have been able to go on.”
“I love you,” I repeat. “And I am going to be here for you. You can count on me, now and always.”
“Yes,” she nods, her head moving on my chest. “But it’s not even just that. Our entire relationship has been built in the context of strife and drama and discord. We couldn’t be open with each other, we were fighting everything, including ourselves, to be together, the odds were so strongly against us. Everything should have kept us from working, but we worked. We made it.”
“We did,” I say, giving her a kiss. “We made it.”
“Yeah, we made it.” She doesn’t exactly sound overjoyed. “And that’s wonderful! But...but what now? Now that there is no discord, now that we’re safe, now that we can be together and there is no one after us? We never learned how to be normal with each other. What if we can’t survive without the pressure of constant, impending disaster pushing us together? What do we do now that we can just live normal lives?”
“Savannah, look at me.” I shift her on my chest so that she can look up at me. “We don’t need the strife. We don’t need all that shit. We only need each other.”
She looks at me, wide-eyed. “How do you know? How can you be completely sure?”
“I know,” I answer, giving her a tender kiss, “because I love you more than anything else in the world. I love you that much now and I will love that much tomorrow and I will love you that much a thousand tomorrows from now. You are mine now.”
Savannah smiles. “I love you, too.”
And then I kiss my woman.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Savannah - Six months later
My life has changed to its polar opposite since that fight.
Cooper and I now share a nice apartment in a ritzy part of town, paid for with his wins from yet another major tournament victory. That isn’t to suggest that Cooper is the only one with a career. I am doing pretty well professionally myself. Business has been booming at The Ink Joint ever since Cooper’s last fight. After winning yet again, my dreamboat boyfriend turned the spotlight to me, publicly pronouncing me both his favorite tattoo artist and the love of his life. People come from all over town, and even from other states and all the way from California, to get inked by me. I am now the head tattoo artist at The Ink Joint and the huge increase in revenue has done wonders for the place’s aesthetic. Now we are just as ritzy as the hoity-toity parlors that wouldn’t take me less than eight months ago, but we still have our blue collar charm.
To celebrate our six-month anniversary of being happily together, Cooper invited me on a trip back to New York City.
“We are going to do it right this time,” he says, when he surprises me with the trip. And my goodness—yes, we are. We fly over in first class from Chicago and a shiny, black Lincoln town car with a stiff, uniformed driver, the very image of what you would imagine a chauffeur or butler to be, drives us to our temporary home for the duration of the stay.
The Four Seasons.
As the daughter of a motorcycle club king, I have experienced a lot of luxury in my life. I have had and seen a lot of nice things. But the Four Seasons in New York City? It takes even my breath away. Our enormous suite has floor-to-ceiling windows along one whole wall of the bedroom, providing a breathtaking view of Central Park, in bloom for spring. The bed is enormous enough that we can fit a full-sized truck between us, but we sleep the same way every night, curled up with each other in the middle of the bed. It is how we have slept every night for the past six months, without fail, and it is wonderful.
We eat at some of the world’s finest restaurants, see beautiful Broadway musicals, and visit all the tourist hot spots. It is all amazing, but none of it compares to the time we have alone together. Cooper is as generous out of bed as he is in it. He even humors me with a surprise shopping spree down Fifth Avenue. Admittedly, he really perks up in Agent Provocateur. He manages to keep it more or less together for a while. But then I need his opinion on a black, silk teddy. It only takes one glance in the dressing room and Cooper is done with shopping.
We have to rush back to the hotel after that.
We barely make it into the elevator before we fall all over each other like horny teenagers.
“I can’t wait to get you naked,” Cooper growls in my ear. Not quite quiet enough, however, because I see the elderly elevator attendant’s emotionless face take on a shocked expression just before the elevator’s doors slide shut.
“He heard that!” I protest, but Cooper is already working at the zipper on the back of my dr
ess.
“Let him have a little excitement for a change,” Cooper replies, as devious as ever. “I know I’m planning on having a lot of fun...” He slides a hand up between my legs, under my dress, and up against my hot, ready sex.
“I—” I start, but my protests trail off into a sigh of pleasure. I was going to say something about cameras and elevator footage, but I can’t focus with Cooper’s fingers expertly stroking my clit in clockwise circles with increasing intensity.
The elevator doors swing open with a ping and Cooper sweeps me up, literally off of my feet, and runs the fifteen or so feet to our suite. He pulls the room key out of his pocket with one hand and holds me easily with the other arm, nibbling on my ear all the while. The man is the king of multi-taskers when it comes to pleasure. As soon as he puts me down inside the room, my unzipped dress slides easily down to my feet, exposing all of my bare flesh. I realize I never got around to putting my underwear back on in our rush to pay for the lingerie at Agent Provocateur and get back to the room.
It is okay. It only saves us some time.
I unbutton Cooper’s shirt, kissing the hot skin of his neck, and when he shrugs it off, I almost lose it entirely at the sensation of his skin on mine after having to restrain myself during the cab ride back. I slide down to my knees, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his jeans. All of my five senses are awake and roaring as my entire body burns with a fiery lust. I close my lips around his shaft and take his rock-hard member deep into my throat. Having Cooper there, and in me, turns me on so much that my gag reflex doesn’t even kick in at all as I slide my head up and down, moving him in and out of my throat.
