by K. Ryan
I crouched down and grinned at the mangled mess I'd made.
"Now we're square."
CHAPTER NINE
Worth The Wait
Isabelle
I ran a hand over my tired eyes and gratefully took the bottle of water the prospect slid over to me. Lexie was bouncing Chloe anxiously on her hip next to me as Skyler eyed us both warily. Becca was still nowhere to be found, but that was honestly the least of my worries right now. I'd tried calling her a little after Caleb left the clubhouse and once I'd finally started to feel normal again, but had only gotten her voicemail.
Just the fact that I'd left my best friend a message to say my house had been broken into and now, it'd been almost two hours and still, nothing...there was something seriously wrong with that. I just didn't have the energy or the presence of mind at the moment to dwell on it for too long.
My number one priority right now was Caleb. Or rather, where he was, what he was doing, and what kind of state he going to come back in. I knew him well enough to know that Diego Padilla was going to be looking a hell of a lot worse than him, but still, the barely-bridled violence and rage burning in his eyes before he'd left with Dom and Casey was scary as shit. And for a moment, I'd panicked that I was going to lose him, that he wouldn't come back to me in one piece, and sitting here waiting was just cruel and unusual punishment.
Thankfully, it wasn't much longer until the tell-tale roar of motorcycles echoed through the quiet clubhouse. I jumped at the sound and Lexie cast a sympathetic glance my way.
I didn't have to wait long because Caleb strode into the clubhouse with Dom and Casey right on his heels. The triumphant smirk on Caleb's face wasn't hard to miss and just as I'd started to relax, my eyes settled on his bloodied and torn knuckles. While I'd known exactly what he'd done and why, I still hadn't been prepared to see the physical evidence.
I didn't want to think about what he'd done with those fists. What he'd done with the Glock I knew he had in that holster underneath his cut.
Caleb's dark eyes roamed the clubhouse hungrily and when his eyes found me, his lips twisted into a smile, silently telling me that everything had been taken care of, that nothing was going to happen to me again. Just as he stalked toward me, Marcus stepped in his path.
"Everything handled, Caleb?" Marcus asked gruffly, clamping his teeth around his cigarette as he spoke.
Caleb nodded quickly, his eyes darting between his club president and me. "No problems."
Dom huffed roughly next to him and Caleb rose his eyebrows at his best friend. I watched them carefully, trying to decipher the meaning behind their silent communication, even if part of me wasn't so sure I really wanted to know.
Marcus cocked an eyebrow at Caleb, his black eyes shifted quickly between them. "I respect your decision to handle this outside the club, Caleb. This was personal between you and Padilla and I get that. You brought back-up with you and you handled your shit, so you got no problems on my end as long as there's no blowback."
"There won't be any blowback," Caleb pushed out through tightly clenched teeth. "He got the message."
"Alright," Marcus dipped his head down in approval.
Caleb didn't waste any time and I bit down on my bottom lip to keep my emotions in check as he closed the short distance between us. My arms were around his neck before I could even fully register that he was standing right in front of me and then his lips pressed into mine hungrily. For a moment, I forgot we were standing out in the open, right at the bar where everyone could see us, and I quickly broke away so I could inspect the damage to his hands.
"Caleb..." I whispered softly as I brushed my fingertip on a piece of torn skin.
"You wanna go clean me up?" he asked in that husky voice he knew drove me up the wall.
I laughed and playfully smacked him in the chest. "Any excuse to get me alone, right?"
"You know it, babe."
"Okay, but after that," I told him pointedly. "I want you to take me back to the house."
His face twisted with anguish and immediately shook his head. "Iz—"
"It's our house, our things. I just want to see it."
Caleb ran a hand over his face, despite the pain he had to be feeling in his hands, and grimaced harshly. "I don't know, Iz. Maybe we should wait. We have to stay at the clubhouse until everything's cleaned up anyway, you know. I haven't even seen it yet and I don't want you to—"
"Caleb," I cut in. "I just want to grab some clothes."
He frowned down at me and I could see the wheels in his head turning, weighing the pros and cons of what I wanted to. It was interesting...all the things I'd learned about being in a relationship with the hard-edged, tough-as-nails biker that he was. He might like to show that tough exterior when other people were around, but when it was just him and me, the tenderness softened out those rough edges. Sometimes, it was like he was two different people—the outlaw biker and the sweet, attentive guy I'd fallen head over heels for all wrapped up in one pretty package.
"Well," he started slowly like he was mentally chewing on the words to see how they tasted. "I suppose we could swing by the house if you promise me you'll see our doc as soon as she can fit us in."
Of course he'd give me an ultimatum. Damn him and his super-intuitive, alpha-male tendencies.
I was fine.
"Iz," Caleb started again, this time his voice was cautious. He was well aware treating me like some kind of invalid who couldn't take of herself was not the way to get me to agree to just about anything. "You can't deny you had a pretty good scare today. Add the panic attack into the mix and I think it's better to be safe than sorry."
I guessed he had a point.
"Fine," I grumbled and jabbed a finger at him. "But only because I love our child. This has nothing to do with you being right."
His shoulders shook with laughter as he swung an arm around me to tuck me into his side. That guy was lucky he was so cute when he laughed.
. . .
"You sure you wanna do this, Iz?" Caleb murmured in my ear as he led me up the walkway to the front door, the same walkway I'd sprinted down just two hours before as my life flashed before my eyes. "I can just go in and throw some shit in a bag for you. You don't have to go inside."
I knew what he was doing and understood why he was doing it. He was protecting me. Just like he always did and even though that just made my heart swell at the thought, he couldn't protect me from everything. This was our house. These were our belongings. And thank God for homeowner's insurance.
"No," I shook my head, resolved to see this through to the end. "I need to go in. It'll just drive me crazy if I don't see it."
Caleb swallowed hard and then I felt his hand rest on the small of my back to lead me inside the house. Once we approached the door, he promptly pushed it open to reveal the disaster inside. For a few moments, I just stood there, frozen in place with my trembling hand covering my mouth. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be our house. This was someone else's life.
With a gulp, I stepped around Caleb, who'd skidded to a stop at the sight, and surveyed the damage. Our TV and my computer were demolished. All the shelves of books and movies had been upended. The curtains were ripped to shreds. Our couch and chair were slashed up like Freddy Krueger had been there. The kitchen table was overturned and crushed, like someone had stomped on it. Every drawer, every cabinet...everything was destroyed.
This was what I signed up for when I'd agreed to be Caleb's old lady and somehow figure out how to fit in this life. In his life. This was the consequence. Or at the very least, one of them. With a deep exhale, I squeezed my eyes shut and told myself that what had happened to our house wasn't actually about me, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
Against my better judgment, I started heading for my studio.
"Iz," Caleb called out desperately and I could feel him right behind me. "Let me go in first. Just—"
I just pressed forward and flung open the door anyway. At first, relief fl
ooded through me and almost knocked me sideways. Everything was fine. Padilla hadn't gotten far enough to destroy all my hard work...and then I smelled that pungent, sour odor that could only be one thing. In complete disbelief, I turned back to Caleb only to find him pale with grief.
Every painting I'd ever done, save for the ones still hanging around the house and the three still at school, were in this room.
And now, they were all destroyed because Diego Padilla had pissed on every single one of them.
Unable to control myself any longer, I lurched forward until my hands came in contact with some canvas and I kicked right through it before heaving it into the wall. I'd gotten my hands on another one when a pair of strong arms closed around me and gently tugged the ruined painting from my grasp. I collapsed into his chest, allowing him to bear the brunt of my weight, and finally released all the anger, frustration, devastation, and terror I'd felt since the moment I stepped up to my front door earlier today.
I had nothing left to do but weep in his arms. I just felt so violated. And, really, these were just possessions and materials. Everything could be replaced, with the exception of my paintings, and I knew I needed to just be grateful I'd managed to get away when I did, but the impact of this, the hatred and animosity it must have taken for anyone to do something like this, it just wouldn't compute.
He let me cry it all out before tenderly taking my chin in his hand. "You're okay, babe. This is all gonna be okay."
"What happened, Caleb?" I whispered hoarsely. "Why would he do this?"
He blew out a deep breath before cradling me against him and tangling his hands in my hair. "This is my fault. This had nothing to do with you, Iz. Long story short, I got Padilla kicked out of the Lobos because he sucked dick at his job. He blamed me for it and even though it was his fault, he came back at me personally, through you, through our house."
"So what did you do to him?"
In light of everything already knocking at our door, we both understood how important it was that he tell me exactly what was going on and why.
He exhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face before finally speaking. "I tracked him down through his old prez, kicked down the door, and taught him never to mess with a Horsemen's old lady, especially mine."
There was a part of me that was more than a little thrilled he'd clearly beaten Diego Padilla to a bloody pulp for me. That he'd went into a rage and tracked down the man responsible and brought him to outlaw justice. The alpha male act was one Caleb knew well and the more I was exposed to it, the more I wanted it. And there was another part of me that didn't know how to feel about that. Didn't know how to feel about the fact that he was capable of that kind of violence.
"Is that all, Caleb? You beat him up. That I can see," I gestured to his bandaged knuckles as I spoke. "But is that it?"
I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down, instinctively knowing I wasn't going to like whatever was coming next. At this point, I was ready for it.
Just keep it coming. How could things get any worse?
"I held his girlfriend at gunpoint in front him," Caleb murmured hoarsely next to me, unable to meet my eyes. "He needed to know what it felt like."
That wasn't exactly what I'd been expecting to hear, but it was more or less on par with my understanding of the way the club operated and the way Caleb operated within the club. There was most definitely a catch-22 when it came to the club—being around them was both the safest and the riskiest thing a person could do in this town, but it was better than the alternative. It was better than living without him.
"Thank you for telling me," I pressed my face into his neck and all the tension in his body seemed to slip right through my fingertips as I wrapped them around his waist.
He kissed my hair and I could feel the relief radiating off him. "Let me get you outta here, Iz."
. . .
Caleb snapped his phone shut and tossed it a few inches away from where I sat on the bed. I gestured with my head toward the spot next to me and he flopped down on the mattress. He leaned into my shoulder, wrapping an arm around me, and I scooped up my bare legs underneath me so I could rest my head on his shoulder.
"Pizza'll be here in about 45 minutes," he told me. "I'm gonna have to make a mad dash for it though so Tiny doesn't get to it first."
I smiled into his shoulders, but that was the most I could muster. My body was too tired and my mind was too spent.
Tomorrow, we'd have to begin the process of going through the house to see what could be saved and what needed to be replaced, but I guess that was the least of my worries right now.
"I'm going to make that doctor appointment tomorrow," I murmured into his shoulder. "I promise."
He nodded and kissed my hair. "Good."
"Hopefully they'll be able to get me in right away. I'm sure everything's fine though. When you think about it, given everything that's happened the last couple days, I think I'm doing pretty good."
At least he was still in good enough humor to huff out a laugh before blowing out a deep breath. He had to be as tense and as worn out as I felt, so I reached out to gently knead the tight muscles in his neck.
"Hmm," he murmured. "That's nice, babe. I should really be doing this for you though. Or, you know, rubbin' your feet or some shit like that."
"Not tonight," I smiled. "You're always taking care of me. Why don't you just let me take care of you for once?"
"You know, I think there might be a double meaning in that, Iz."
I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Do you want the neck massage or not?"
"Do I get another kind of massage after?"
"Shut it."
He just shrugged. "Okay."
After a good 10 minutes, his calloused fingertips grazed my hands to tell me it was okay to stop and then he shifted on the bed, sliding his hands down my bare thighs, until he faced me on the bed. A slow grin tugged up his lips and he leaned forward to kiss me, gently pushing me back onto the bed.
Caleb hovered over me as he situated himself between my legs and skimmed his hands up the Horsemen T-shirt I wore.
"I like seeing you in my clothes," he murmured, leaning down to press his lips against my stomach. "But I think my shirt'll look better on the floor right now."
"Oh wow," I laughed. "What a line."
"Hey, that's not even my best stuff," he rested his chin on my stomach as he spoke.
It was his eyes that got me every time, those deep sapphires that shimmered with love, devotion, and a healthy dose of mischief. I wished I could swim in those eyes, drench myself in their warmth, and sink into that liquid silk.
As if he could read my thoughts, Caleb shot me a wolfish grin before shifting his attention back to my stomach.
"Hey there, little buddy," he told my stomach. "Mommy did a pretty good job protecting you today, didn't she?"
I just laughed. "I see you haven't accepted that it's gonna be a girl."
"Okay, fine," he relented and gestured back down to where our baby was resting. "Hey there, little princess. If you turn out to be anything like your mom, and I suspect you will, I am shit up a creek. Seriously. You and your mother will be the death of all my hair."
"Oh God," I shook my head. "You're crazy."
His lips found my stomach again before he rested his chin against my skin. "Yep."
The smile that slipped across his face now was softer than before and had me reaching down to touch his cheek.
"Caleb?"
"Yeah, Iz?"
"Make it go away," I whispered.
He nodded. He knew exactly what I was asking and I knew that anything I asked for, anything I wanted, he was going to give me. And even if his mind had been on a rougher, faster track tonight, even if he'd needed to work out a little more aggression from the day's events, I needed him to go slow, to be tender with me, and to just love me.
"Okay, Iz," Caleb murmured.
He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips against mine, his fingers skimming all the wa
y underneath the shirt to slide it over my head. My legs wrapped around his waist and a moment later, my fingers were pulling his own shirt over his head. He bent down to place feather-light kisses on the insides of my thighs, my stomach, my chest, my neck, before finally settling over my lips.
I loved this about him—matter what was going on with us, whether it was the club, school, or just plain old life, sex was always something that just worked between us. It was where we met up at night. Where we found each other again in spite of whatever happened that day. Tonight, even in his worked-up state, was no exception.
He swirled his tongue in long, leisurely circles inside my mouth, taking his time in getting me to relax. I needed him to take his time, but I also needed him to get somewhere else first and slipped both his shorts and his boxers down to his ankles so he could kick them off. I hoisted myself up on my elbows and watched him with hooded eyes as he lazily freed himself from the layers keeping us apart. Two seconds later, he thrust his hands underneath me and playfully yanked me closer to him.
He gripped my hips, digging his fingers into my skin and he easily slipped inside me. My hands tangled in his hair and he rocked against me, finding that easy rhythm and hitting exactly where he knew he needed to go. It was slow, lazy lovemaking and it was exactly what both of us needed tonight. His lips never seemed to stray far from an inch of my skin, trailing up my neck, pressing into my mouth, lingering around my jaw.
We'd done this leisurely, easy pace before and we had all night to enjoy it, but this was different.
Every movement, every kiss, every touch seemed to heighten the emotions we were feeling—the love, the need, the desire. It felt like a piece of my soul had splintered and his had meshed in with mine to fill in the empty spaces. We were forged as one, melded together in the heat surrounding us.
And when my release shattered through my body and Caleb trembled above me, I knew that, in spite of the day's drama, we were going to have the best night of sleep we'd had in months. All the weight had been lifted and now, we could finally breathe.
