by Parker, Zoey
“Definitely. So what is it?” She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Erica?”
“When did you become a mind reader?”
She chuckled. “You spend enough time with a person, you start to know the way they think. Besides, it’s normal for you to think about her. What’s she gonna do now?” She peered at me again. “What are you gonna do?”
I shrugged and looked away while she put some ointment on a gauze pad and taped it to my temple. “I don’t know. I guess it’s up to her. We didn’t give her the best impression of this life, did we?”
“I guess you’re right. She’s seen a lot of bad shit. But there’ve been good things, too. She played poker with us while you were gone.”
“She did?”
“Yeah, she fit right in. She could have been a snob about it, you know? Like she thought she was better than us since she comes from another world. It wasn’t like that at all. She offered to help. She wanted to be part of things. That’s probably pretty rare, don’t you think?”
I mulled it over. What she said made sense.
“That leaves you. What are you gonna do?”
“Is it wrong to say I don’t want her to be part of this because I think she’s better than this?”
Brett sighed and sat down next to me. “Better than what? We’re a family. Yeah, we’re dysfunctional as hell, but we’re here for each other. Do you have a problem with what you do?”
“Brett, I killed people. A lot of people. I fucking strangled York.”
“It was self-defense. He would have killed you if you didn’t do it first.”
“Still, that doesn’t make me a good person. I ran out of a building that was wired to explode without giving anybody a chance to make it out. That doesn’t make me a good person either.”
“What do you think would have happened if you told them about the C-4? What if they lived? Do you think they would have left you alone for the rest of your life just because you gave them the heads up? No. They were the bad guys. Bad people. No souls. You have a soul. You’re a good person. Sometimes you do things that aren’t good, but you have a reason. This time, it was to protect the club from York and the Wolves.”
I was looking at the floor when she spoke. “Look at me. Look me in the eye.”
I did. She was crying.
“What do you think they would have done to me if you died tonight? Me and Tyler and Sam? Why do you think there aren’t any girls in that club like there are here? Everybody knew how they treated women. They were animals. If they had found us here, forget it. I would have killed myself.”
It hurt me to hear her say it, especially since I knew she was right. York was a pig; his men were pigs. “You might have saved my life, and the other girls. We can never thank you enough for that. You did a good thing, the sort of thing a leader does.”
I hugged her tight. She didn’t know it, but that was the best thing she could have said. It was the one thing I needed to hear more than anything when York’s words were still playing in my head. Taunting me, telling me I was no leader, that I had no right to sit at the head of my club.
“I love you,” Brett whispered. “I’ll always love you.”
I smiled over her shoulder. I wasn’t used to saying it, but she made it impossible not to. “I love you, too,” I said. “Thank you for always being my friend.”
She pulled away to wipe the tears from her face. “So? What will you do about Erica?”
I shook my head. “I have to wait and see what she wants.”
Brett nodded, accepting that, and went upstairs.
I took one more look around the clubhouse before heading up myself. It was my clubhouse. My club. Nobody else’s.
I wished I could say the same about Erica as I slid beside her in bed. She was out cold. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her to me. Letting her heat warm me. I felt cold all of a sudden.
I loved her. And that meant being ready to let her go if that was what she wanted.
Chapter Thirty
Erica
When I woke, it was with Vince’s arms around me. I let myself experience the feeling for a little while before opening my eyes. No thoughts, no worries, nothing. It was just the two of us. This was the first time I’d woken up with him where there was no anxiety. Only peace.
I didn’t feel anything about what had happened to me, and I knew that might not be a good thing. It could have meant that I was in shock, or denial. Or maybe it just meant that I didn’t care about that entire clubhouse full of men being blown to smithereens. I didn’t care, because if it hadn’t been for Onyx, they would have done whatever they wanted to me. Even Alexander had said he wanted to keep me. I didn’t think he was kidding at the time, and I didn’t think he was kidding as I remembered it the morning after.
I wondered about the mess we’d left behind. I used the word we when I thought about it, and it wasn’t a mistake. I was one of them. I hadn’t intended for it to turn out that way—who would?
I told myself as I lay there with my eyes closed that any sane person would run hard and fast after what happened. I’d seen too many things that turned my stomach. I’d witnessed murder, I’d run from gunshots, and been kidnapped and tied to a chair. What else needed to happen for me to realize this was a bad, bad idea?
Vince’s arms tightened slightly, as though he heard my thoughts. It was his arms that convinced me, and the feeling of his warmth and solidness behind me. The sound of his slow, soft breathing. The way he’d walked into a building filled with people just looking for an excuse to kill him—all to save me.
Only one thing bothered me. I knew I would worry about him all the time. If we were together, I would have to insist he legitimize them as soon as possible. I wanted him on the right side of the law. I wanted him to come home to me at night.
Was I really going down this road? Was I seeing us together for the long haul?
I was. And when I admitted it to myself, really admitted it, I felt so much better. It was easier to give in. Why had I fought how I felt? What a waste of time.
I opened my eyes for the first time since waking up. Sunlight streamed in through the little sliver of space left between the drawn curtains. I didn’t remember what time we had gotten in—three thirty? Four? I had to be mid-morning at the earliest.
It occurred to me that I had no idea where Vince actually lived—was it here? I couldn’t see how. He had to have a place of his own somewhere. Then I thought about the armoire full of books and I wondered if this wasn’t his actual home. My heart ached for him. He’d been without a home and love for so long.
Scratch that, I thought. He had love. The love of his friends, his club members. They’d put themselves on the line for him. And for me. I could never thank them enough.
Now, he would have my love. If he wanted it.
Did he want it? He wasn’t used to loving. I was sure that before me, he’d been through dozens of women. I hated to think of the actual number. He didn’t want to be tied down to them. Was I crazy to think that I was any better than any of the others? What was so special about me that he should change his ways just for us to be together? The thought made me feel selfish.
He could have died for you. Yeah, but that could have been his male pride, too. I knew he had plenty of it. I was sure without even talking it over with him that he’d been more pissed than anything else over Alexander York thinking he had won. I probably didn’t even come into it until later, when his temper cooled down.
When I thought about it that way, I felt foolish. There I was, being a stupid girl. Creating a relationship where there wasn’t one.
I shifted a little, my thoughts making me physically uncomfortable. I rubbed one of my wrists against the pillows and winced in pain.
“What happened?” Just like that, Vince was awake. I wondered how deeply he could have been sleeping if just the sound of my gasp had woken him.
“My wrist. That’s all. Go back to sleep,” I whispered.
“Does it hurt?”
“Just a little. No worries.” I was touched that he cared so much. Don’t read into it, Erica. But I wanted to. I wanted to believe he cared that much about me. That he hadn’t walked into near-certain death just because of his pride.
He pulled me closer to him, his mouth on my hair. “It feels so good to have you here,” he whispered. “I can’t even tell you how it felt thinking I had lost you.”
I shivered a little at his words. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
I took a chance. “I know what you mean. When I thought you were walking into a trap, I could have died. I wanted to warn you somehow. I tried to…get free.” I almost slipped and mentioned Onyx, how I wanted him to let me go. I caught myself just in time. The last thing I wanted to do was upset Vince. It would take time to get over the wound.
“I believe you did. We had a close call.” He kissed my shoulder. “Too close. How about we take it easy from now on. What do you say?”
I laughed softly. “It’s a deal. I’ve had enough excitement to last me a lifetime.”
He kissed my shoulder again, then further up, toward my neck. I sighed softly. What a gift it was, being kissed like that. When I thought it would never happen again, that we were both dead.
His mouth grew a little bolder, and he gently licked my skin. I shivered silently against him, stretching languidly as a little flame grew inside me thanks to his tongue. I sighed again, encouraging him. His hand woke up, stirring from where it had rested on my hip. Something else stirred, too, coming to life behind me. I felt him pressing against my butt, and it felt right.
His hand slowly ran up and down my thigh, just his fingertips grazing my skin. I whimpered, sliding my leg against his. He answered by sliding a leg between mine, parting them slightly. His fingers then grazed my inner thigh, and I gasped. His touch was electric.
The power between us shifted, all of it going to him. I was lost already, totally open to his touch and kiss and the strength of him. Strength I knew he was barely holding back. The thought of it was enough to get me wet—the thought of what he could do to me if he really wanted to. I was powerless against him. He could take me again and again, and from what I remembered of the day before he was more than capable. Wetness bloomed between my legs as the heat increased.
His fingers found my wetness, and I moaned when he stroked my slick cleft. I was on my right side, so I hooked my left arm behind me, around his neck. Turning my head, I pulled him to me for a kiss.
We moved together like that for a long time, tongues dancing, his fingers moving along my most private places, my hips rocking against his hardness. He thrusted his hips, gliding along my cleft, sliding through the wetness. I moved with him, gasping every time the head rubbed against my button. I was on fire, nerves singing, passion sweeping over me like a wave. I moved faster, rocking harder, friction building and building, pushing me higher. I moaned into Vince’s mouth as the tension built unbearably—then released in a shuddering orgasm.
He gave me no time to recover, lifting my leg to slide inside me while I still trembled and pulsed. I cried out, turning my head to the pillow to muffle the sound. It was exquisite, almost too good. The way we fit together, so tight, so perfect. He groaned against my neck, pumping in and out.
I never wanted it to end. In my head I had the strangest image of a tuning fork vibrating. That was my body. I vibrated with pleasure from his touch, his kiss, the motion of his thick length moving in and out. I felt his need for me, and I responded eagerly to it, almost greedily. His hand roamed me, grabbing, squeezing, fondling, before it found my breasts. I covered it with mine, squeezing, then laced my fingers with his. We held onto each other that way as his paced picked up, his thrusts sharper, deeper. I let myself go, falling further and further into it, then lifting up on the crest of a wave taking me higher until the friction built again and I exploded.
I pulled his arm around me, shaking, as he came with a long, low cry against my shoulder. I gripped his hand, holding tight as we rode it out together. I wasn’t sure quite when I fell asleep again, but when I did his hand was still in mine.
***
A few hours later, Vince was sleeping soundly. I, on the other hand, desperately needed the bathroom. I slid out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt and sweats I nearly swam in.
I heard noise downstairs as I tiptoed through the hallway. I thought there might still be other people sleeping and didn’t want to wake them. I had no concept of time—one of the many weird things about having a broken cell phone. What did we do without them, I wondered as I freshened up.
I decided to stay out of bed, or else I would sleep the entire day away. I was hungry, too, so I padded downstairs in my bare feet. The first thing my eyes fell on was the oversized clock on one wall. I nearly rubbed my eyes in surprise. It was past four o’clock.
“Tell me I didn’t just sleep twelve hours,” I said.
All I saw were smiling faces and nodding heads.
“Honey, if anybody ever deserved to sleep in, it’s you.” Sam scurried across the room, arms held out. I received a lot of hugs, even a few from the guys. I hugged them back enthusiastically, thanking them for what they’d done to get me out of there.
“How are you feeling?” Brett asked, handing me a glass of water. “Hungry, I’ll bet.”
“Starving.”
She nodded, observing the raw, bloody skin around my wrists. I didn’t want to look. It brought back too many memories.
“Why don’t you let me bandage those for you? I have a first-aid kit behind the bar.” She patted a stool, which I sat on while she wound gauze around my wrists. I wondered if she’d ever considered going to nursing school. If not, she should have, with her caring personality. She was very much the mother hen of the clubhouse, even though she couldn’t have been older than me.
“They’ll have a lot of questions for you today,” she murmured confidentially.
“I thought so,” I replied. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it yet.”
“Then tell them that. Don’t be afraid. The end result is the same either way. The Wolves are toast.” She winced. “Sorry. I didn’t think about how that would sound until after I said it.”
“Don’t worry about it. There’s no love lost between them and me.” Far from it.
“So, what do you think you’ll do now?” she asked, patting my wrists gently once she’d finished.
“What do you mean?”
She smiled. “That’s a good start. I meant, what next? Go home? We never see you again?”
I gaped at her, unsure how to answer. Was I supposed to say yes? Was this her way of getting me out of the picture? I knew how much she cared for Vince—I would have to be blind to miss it. I didn’t want to step on any toes. I didn’t even know if the club wanted me around.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I finally replied. I hoped it sounded noncommittal enough.
She was still smiling. “You dope. I’m not telling you to leave. I’m asking because we all want you to stay.”
It felt like a weight leaving my shoulders. “You mean it? You’re not just saying that?”
“Why would I just say that?” She shook her head, auburn curls bouncing. “I swear, you and Vince are perfect for each other. You can both be so obtuse sometimes.”
I giggled and blushed. I loved hearing us linked together. “How do you know everybody else wants me here though?”
“Last night, after we found out you were with the Wolves, Vince spent a long time alone in the office. Axel came out and told everybody what happened. For such a big, scary-looking dude, he’s the world’s biggest teddy bear. Anyway, he told us you were in trouble and Vince wanted to go after you.”
She shook her head again, leaning her elbows on the bar. “There was no way they would let him go alone. I mean, I’m not a member of the club and even I knew it was a stupid idea. So they took a vote. It was unanimous that they’d all go along with him. They didn’t have to, but everybody agreed you were w
orth going after. They wanted to be sure he was safe, yeah, but they knew if things got bad, he’d send you out. They wanted to protect you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say—I didn’t know if words could do justice to what I was feeling. It was gratifying knowing they wanted me. I wasn’t only a problem for them. One of my biggest fears as I sat there, tied to the chair, was that nobody would think I was worth saving. Once they’d gone to the trouble, I was sure they’d feel that way. Was I worth blowing up a building over?
There were footsteps on the stairs. I turned in my seat, smiling into the eyes of a man who clearly felt I was worth it.
Chapter Thirty-One
Vince
