HIS PROPERTY: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Iron Bandits MC)

by Zoey Parker

  The afternoon had basically sucked. Yeah, I’d been busy, but I really didn’t want to be there. I still had a headache from my days and nights with the bottle. I needed more sleep, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Ellie—hot, beautiful Ellie—and Peter, and Keith, and my head was spinning. I couldn’t make sense of any of it. I needed answers, and she was the only one who could provide them.

  Realizing that there was likely no food in the house, I ordered a pizza for delivery and picked up some beers before heading home.

  When I finally got there, it was like stepping into an alternate universe. I had seen earlier that she was straightening up my mess—which was excellent, as I was likely to wade through the trash for months otherwise. But she had really cleaned. Like, shiny countertops and sinks. Vacuumed carpet and rugs. Even the windows and my bathroom mirrors were missing their smears. And it all smelled fresh, like lemon. I started to feel better immediately. Who knew a clean place could do that?

  But the woman in question, the angel of the evening, was nowhere to be found—at least, not in the common areas. A part of me fantasized that she was waiting for me in my bed, and I headed there first, half believing in the mental image of her naked between my sheets.

  Of course, she wasn’t there. And I was a dumbass for even hoping that she might be.

  I changed my shirt and then made my way over to the door of the second bedroom, knowing she had to be in there with the baby, silent though they were. I knuckled the door lightly, not wanting to wake Peter up, but loudly enough so if Ellie was awake, she’d have some warning I was coming in.

  She wasn’t awake. She was curled up on the air mattress on the floor, which she had somehow managed to outfit with sheets and blankets and a pillow, with her baby tucked close in her arms. They were gorgeous together. I’d never been one to appreciate mothers and their babies before, but the sight moved me, somehow. Ellie’s hair was unbound and floated around her head on the pillow, the soft curves of her body phenomenally on display. Her face had lost all lines of stress.

  She was amazing. I couldn’t help but stare.

  After several moments, her eyes drifted open as if she sensed my presence in the room even in her sleep. It took her a minute, but she managed to get to a sitting position without waking the baby. She tucked him in with the comforter, placing a pillow between him and the edge of the mattress, and struggled a bit to get to her feet from the low ground.

  “How long have I been out?” she asked. Like I would know when she fell asleep.

  “No idea. I just got back a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh, right. Um…” She looked around, a little bit lost. I figured her brain was still in sleep-mush mode. She was really pretty in her confusion. I was enjoying this a bit too much, and figured I had to shut myself down.

  “I ordered us a pizza, should be here soon. You want a beer?”

  “Yeah, that’d be good, thanks. And some water, too, if you don’t mind.”

  “On it.” I left her alone, to follow at her own pace. She obviously needed a few minutes to get fully conscious again.

  I got her a glass of filtered water from the sink, pulled two longnecks from the six-pack, and brought them all out to the living room. After the pizza guy came, I set the food on the coffee table and settled myself on one side of the couch.

  Ellie came out not long after, her hair once again gathered into that high ’tail, and she wandered to the couch as if still in a daze. When she sat, she looked around as if she had no idea what to do next. I leaned forward, grabbed the water from the coffee table, and handed it to her. She took it two-handed, like a little kid, and guzzled it back as if she’d spent days in the desert.

  Which, I realized, she basically had, living in her car in freaking Arizona. Lucky for her, it was only March, and the heat of summer hadn’t hit yet. But what she was doing with Peter was insane. Arizona would cook them up in the summer if they weren’t living in a real domicile with air conditioning. Plus, it was dry as fuck here, and she must have been suffering some level of dehydration.

  First things first, I decided. “Eat up. We can talk after.” She nodded, and we applied ourselves to the food. It didn’t take long—after my day, I nearly inhaled a half of the pie in short time. She only ate half as much, but we were both done and ready for beers within minutes. Then I got down to business.

  “How long you been living in that piece of shit pile of junk out there, Ellie?” I asked, trying to keep my anger from boiling over with just the thought of it.

  “Not long, really. Just a few days. We’ve been on the road for most of it.”

  “On the road. Huh. Coming from where?”

  “Oregon. Portland area. I went back up there when…” she drifted off. I gave her a moment, but nothing else came out.

  “When…?” I raised my eyebrows at her. The woman had some problems telling a story.

  “Oh! Yeah, um, actually, I left Tucson really soon after Keith…” This time I knew she wasn’t going to go on. And I knew what she was going to say, but wouldn’t. So I finished her sentence for her.

  “…after he was killed.” I forced myself to say those words. I never let myself avoid them, or use euphemisms that sugar-coated reality. I saw her flinch, but I didn’t have it in me to coddle her grief. I had too much of my own grief. And anger. I had a lot of anger about it.

  “Yeah. After that.”

  “How did you know him?—I don’t mean, I mean, obviously—” Fuck. I was babbling. I just wanted the full story.

  Lucky for me, Ellie seemed to automatically know what I meant, and she cut me slack. “You know where he lived, that neighborhood? I was bartending at the Red Trick Pony, you know it? He’d come in sometimes, we’d chat. He was cool. We got along. Your brother—he was a really good guy, you know?...He was a really good guy.” Her voice faded off and it was clear she was drifting in a memory.

  “Yeah, he was. So, what, you and he were together then? For how long? ‘Cause, I gotta be frank with you, he never mentioned you to me. Sorry if that hurts, but it’s true. So seeing you today, and with the baby, it’s all…it doesn’t make much sense. I need more. I know for a fact my brother was careful.”

  “Yeah, well…I’m not surprised he didn’t mention me. Except maybe as a friend? I don’t know. We really were just getting to be friends. You know, we got on well, and just casually, at the bar. But, uh…” She took a deep breath, then looked me right in the eye. “Okay, this is a long and weird story, and I need you to just bear with me through it, okay?”

  “Got all night, Ellie.” Why in the hell was she being so hesitant? It was all I could do not to yell out, “Just start talking, woman!” But that seemed like it might be counter-productive. I shifted my jaw around to ease my tension.

  “Okay. So, it started in Portland. I don’t want to give you all the nitty-gritty, but I left there about a year ago, the first time. Well, not quite a year. In May, last year. Came here, to Tucson, got a place, got a job, started working, met Keith. That much you know. Thing is, I ended up bringing extra baggage with me, that I did not intend to bring. This guy—Brian—he’d been someone I knew, or had known, back up in Oregon. We had dated briefly, but things got weird, and then bad, and I broke it off really quickly, but he…”

  “Let me guess. He didn’t want to let you go. Was he stalking you? He followed you here?”

  “Yes, and yes. And one night at the bar, at the Pony, he saw me talking and laughing with Keith—nothing was even going on—but Brian, he got upset about it. And he got in Keith’s face, which was just stupid of him—you know how big your brother is—ugh, sorry! …was…” Her face started to crumble, and she turned away.

  “Yeah, Ellie. I know. It’s okay. Go on.”

  She took a minute, then picked up again. “Well, Brian was spouting off a bunch of ugly shit about me, just verbal vomit about Keith being my next victim and me being a … you get the idea, right? Just a whole lot of unpleasantness. And Keith, even though he really didn’t k
now me, he got protective, and he stood up and just loomed over Brian—who’s not that small, he’s way bigger than me, but still, nothing compared to Keith—and Keith just laid into Brian. Didn’t take much, and Brian was on the floor. It’s all kind of jumbled now, in my head. I’m not sure how long Keith was hitting him, but by the end of it, Brian’s face was all messed up, and he was humiliated. I’ll be honest, I was kind of glad to see it, and I was super grateful to Keith. Brian had it coming. He’d had it coming for a long time. I was really, really grateful to Keith. It was the first night in a bunch of months that I felt…safe.”

  I got it. So I looked at her. “I read you.” I nodded. “I know my brother. So, following that, Keith woulda made sure you got home and…”

  She nodded back and gave me a tiny little smile. “Yeah. And…But we weren’t about that. It was just that one night. He was really good to me, and after following me home and making sure I was okay, I asked him in for a drink, as a thank you. And we did some shots, and then…” She clearly didn’t want to finish that sentence, either.

  “Yeah, babe, I got the picture. But it still doesn’t all add up yet. Keith was careful—”

  “Condoms break sometimes, Jack. You must know that.”

  “Oh, fuck. Yeah…You weren’t on the pill?”

  “Hi, personal question. And no, I wasn’t. But I am now. Any other intimacies you need me to share right now?”

  “Whoa, don’t get your back up. It’s a fair question. Go easy.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not really used to answering to anybody else. You’re right. You deserve to know what’s what, and why. I want to be honest and open with you about it. I do. You just surprised me. I don’t even know why. Sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing, babe. It’s okay.”

  We sat there a few minutes, each in our own thoughts. I was the first to break the silence again.

  “So, after that night, you and Keith never…”

  She shook her head with gusto. “No. Definitely not. No. Just that one night. Not that it was bad—but it wasn’t—no. No.”

  She was flustered, and it was damn cute to watch. Her color started rising again, and she was fidgeting with her sleeve again. Damn, this woman had some tells. It was close to hysterical, just to see her squirm.

  But I was relieved to hear that she and my little brother had not been in the midst of some crazy big love story, so I let her off the hook easily. I just needed to clarify one more thing before I’d be happy to end this conversation. “What about Keith? Did he want more with you? Or did he feel the same as you felt about the whole thing?”

  She chuckled. I looked at her expectantly, my eyebrows raised.

  She leaned in close to me, and shared, like it was an insiders’ secret, “His exact words were, ‘Ellie, that was really great. Let’s never do it again.’” And she laughed, right into my eyes.

  Chapter 6

  Ellie

  It felt so good to laugh about Keith with someone who actually knew him—even more than that, someone who had loved him—his own brother. It was a real connection with Peter’s father, despite Keith’s death.

  I felt a thousand times lighter, remembering how Keith and I had laughed and hugged after his perfect assessment of our crazy mistake.

  It had ended up being a crazy, beautiful, scary mistake—because: Hi, Peter!—but for the very same reason, I would never in my life—ever—want to change the outcome. Despite all the fear and the problems and the worries and everything that had come with Peter’s appearance in my world, he was now the center of my life, and I could not regret the connection with Keith that gave me my son.

  Jack didn’t share my laughter, but his eyes smiled back at me. He looked relieved, and he leaned in toward me as well. He got so close, I almost wondered if he was going to kiss me. Of course, Peter chose that moment to announce his awakening, and Jack immediately backed off. I got up to tend to the little bawler.

  I’d been in my little room with Petey through half of his nursing session when Jack appeared at the door, one arm raised above his head, leaning against the frame as he silently observed the ritual of breastfeeding. I knew the door was open and I hadn’t taken a blanket to cover myself and Peter’s head as he fed. It wasn’t that I was an exhibitionist, but if I was truly to make myself at home here, this is how I would do it. I didn’t want Peter to feel like his feeding was something to hide—I wasn’t sure if that would affect him subconsciously in later life or not. But also, I maybe wanted Jack to come in, to see us, to see me.

  I knew it was probably a bad idea, but I was really turned on by him. I didn’t want to shy away from him or from this connection we seemed to have, even though we’d only known each other for less than a day. It seemed my body was making a choice to leave every door open between us—figurative and literal.

  Jack appeared appreciative. After a few moments, he straightened up and entered the room, coming to a stop only when he was right at the side of the bed where he squatted down and reached out a hand to touch Peter’s cheek. I watched the wonder in Jack’s face. He’d probably never been this close to a nursing baby before—hell, he’d probably never been this close to a baby of any kind before.

  This whole thing must be rocking his world. I needed to remember that, and to cut him some slack if he ever got really uptight or if the stress of having us around blew up in some way. I’d had months to prepare myself; Jack hadn’t even had twenty-four hours.

  Peter petered out on my nipple, and I knew he was done, so I shifted him up to burp and covered myself. Jack backed up but didn’t turn his eyes away from me. He was wearing an appreciative smirk, and I smirked at him right back.

  I patted Peter’s little back until he let out the extra air. And some regurge—ah, the joys of infants. Jack was back to watching us from near the door and looked about ready to go back out to the living room when I shocked the hell out of him.

  “Hey, come and take Petey so I can get up.”

  “Whaa…no! No. I don’t do babies, Ellie.” He looked me straight in the eye and shook his head firmly. Yeah, that was not going to fly.

  “Well, maybe you didn’t do babies before, but you do now, buddy. Come on. It’s easy. Just pick him up in your hands so I can get up. Only thing you need to be careful of is his neck and head; he’s not strong enough yet to support it himself, so you gotta make sure you have your fingers behind him, helping him out.”

  “Fuckin’ hell.” He seemed suspended by the doorway, unsure whether to come back or run away.

  “Come on, Jack. I need your help. It really isn’t hard. He’s not going to bite you, I promise.”

  “I’m gonna crush him.”

  “You’re not gonna crush him. Just pick him up under his arms, put your fingers behind his neck to support his head. Super easy.”

  He did it. The hot huge badass biker came back over to the bedside, leaned down, and gently took Peter face-to-face from my outstretched hands. He held him in a dangle at some distance from his own body, with Peter clasped firmly in his hands just as I had described. He followed my instructions to the letter, which was great since beyond that, he showed absolutely no instinct for childcare.

  I forcibly repressed a chuckle, not wanting to undermine his fragile ego. Once I got to my feet, I scuttled around the two of them and moved straight into the living room, not worried about how far behind me Jack would be. I could hear Peter begin to air grievances about the sudden loss of bodily contact, and Jack didn’t wait to air his own, either.

  “Take him, already, would you?”

  I used my empty water glass as an excuse to lengthen their time together, bringing it back into the kitchen for a refill. “Oh, calm down, Jack. Just sit down with him and let him lay on your chest. He just wants body contact. You’re fine.”

  Jack’s face reflected his anxiety, but he reclined on the couch with his head propped up and did as suggested, and we were both rewarded with an almost immediate cessation of baby noise. Peter laid his che
ek on Jack’s pec and settled right in. Jack’s face looked funny, as he peered down at the little one with a mix of distrust and bemusement. But when I reentered the room with my water and sat back comfortably on the other half of the couch, Jack pinned me with a piercing look, clearly nonplussed at my lack of maternal possessiveness.

  From my vantage point, though, I was totally winning. The image of big tough hot Jack with my baby boy cuddled close on his chest was To Die For. It was so sexy and beautiful, and I just gazed at the two of them in a kind of blissed-out haze for a minute—or two, or three. Really, I have no idea how long it lasted.