Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas

by Natasha Thomas

  Needless to say, I think Fury appreciated my efforts even more than I appreciated his gesture. The two-and-a-half-hour fuck-a-thon we engaged in when he saw me proved it.

  “Babe?” Fury yells from somewhere down the hall. “Blaine called and said she’d meet us there. She’s got some shit to pick up for Beth on the way so she’s leaving her place now.”

  Great. Just fucking great. I had hoped to find out where Blaine’s head is at before she’s descended on by all the old ladies and both of our families – Boss invited them to join us today – but it looks like that’s a bust.

  I’m looking forward to seeing my Mom and my sisters. They came to visit when Fury and I first moved in together, but everyone’s been so busy they haven’t been able to make time to come back since. I hate that they don’t live closer, and I miss them. But I especially miss my Dad. He’s a pain in the ass, overprotective, stubborn, and moody, but I love him all the same.

  Fury told me about his conversation with Dad while they were in Wyoming, and to say I was pissed would be like saying all hookers are virgins. I went straight past pissed and rocketed into I’m-going-to-cut-your-balls-off-with-a-blunt-spoon territory. And I made sure my Dad knew it.

  Dad and I didn’t talk for a few weeks after Fury admission, something that cut Dad deeply seeing as we usually talked every day. But I couldn’t find it in me to forgive him quickly for blindsiding Fury like that. Fury was on a job for the club for God’s sake. A freaking dangerous one at that. I mean, what would have happened if my Dad had distracted his focus from where it needed to be and he’d gotten hurt? I would have kicked Dad’s ass, that’s what.

  I knew it was coming which meant I had time to prepare, so when Mom and Dad arrived for our housewarming party, I was expecting him to pull me aside for one of his ‘Dad Chats.’ And yes, it is necessary for the words to have capitals because those kind of chats are serious business.

  By the way, our housewarming was awesome even though I can’t remember much of it. Tequila’s a bitch like that. We ate, we drank, the girls and I danced, and if I recall correctly, Sarge even broke out his guitar and played us a few tunes. It. Was. Righteous.

  Anyway, back to my point. Dad and I talked and he apologized for being an ass. Well, he didn’t actually apologize, more like he told me to get over it because he’s my Dad and he would always look out for me. And then I was faced with a crossroads. Did I forgive him for being a dick because it came from a good place? Or did I hold onto my grudge which would see a wedge driven between us?

  Since the latter wasn’t an option – I love my Dad too much to let that happen – I didn’t have much of a choice. Eventually, as in, five minutes later, I caved. We hugged it out, and I promised all sorts of horrific retribution involving his gonads if he ever thought to behave the same way again. Dad wasn’t down with the whole spoon removing his testicles thing, so he relented and agreed he’d talk to me before intervening on my behalf in the future.

  Glancing at my watch, I dig my boots out of the back of the closet, jam my feet into them, and slip my property patch over my tank top. We’re going to be more than late if we don’t pull the lead out. And as much as I’d like to say I don’t care, I do. My behavior reflects on Fury, so there’s no way I want to show up to our first club gathering together anything but on time.

  “Honey, are you ready to go? Beth's already texted me twice. Lonnie, four times. And Kennedy, once. We have to jet,” I say, snatching up my purse and shoving the rest of my crap inside.

  Fury grips my shoulders bringing me to a halt half a foot away from him and place a short but sweet kiss on my lips.

  “It’s all good, baby. We’re not gonna be late, and even if we were, no one would give a shit. It’s a party, baby. People come and go as they please.”

  “Seriously?” I snap. “My family is there, your brothers, our friends, and I want to show off my patch. Now, get a freaking move on because if you don’t, I’m going to kick you somewhere very uncomfortable.”

  Chuckling at me, Fury kisses the tip of my nose and mutters,

  “Fucking violent little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Just move it already, big guy,” I retort, stomping toward his bike.

  The beauty of our new house is that it’s only a ten-minute ride to the clubhouse. So, even late as we are, we still manage to arrive before a good deal of the brothers and their families.

  Jumping off as soon as Fury comes to a stop, I hand him my helmet and skirt around his bike. I don’t get far, though. Fury grabs my wrist and tugs me to him, wrapping his other arm around my waist until we’re crotch to crotch and my chest is pressed hard up against him.

  “Slow down there, baby. I want a kiss before you go and I don’t get to see your ass for the next three hours,” he demands, his voice low and gravelly.

  “Oh, alright then,” I sigh, not caring in the least he’s being a bossy, alpha biker.

  Crushing his mouth to mine, Fury plunges his tongue between my lips and pulls me onto his lap so that I’m straddling him. He cups the back of my head with one hand, the other finding my ass and squeezing, hard.

  I don’t know how much time passes with me in a Fury induced kiss coma, but obviously, it’s long enough to have offended some of the locals when I hear a throat clear behind us. While this would have mortified me only months ago, I quickly got over my prudish tendencies with Fury’s help. He isn’t a man who likes to wait for his hourly doses of affection, and when I make him, he gets all pissy so it’s best to just let him have his way with me and be done with it. Something I’ve grown to love.

  “You want to let my little girl go, brother?” My Dad asks, albeit in the form of an order.

  “Not particularly,” Fury mumbles against my lips.

  With his hand still on my ass, Fury stands, letting the length of my body slide down the entirety of his. Mmm, nice. Because Fury’s being so understanding of Dad’s interruption, I make a mental note to make this up to him later.

  “Hey, Dad,” I chirp, smoothing down my hair. “Where’s Mom, Dakota, and Nevie?”

  “Come here, girl,” Dad rumbles, crooking a finger at me. Throwing myself into his arms, I hug him tight and allow him to do the same to me.

  “Going to go find the guys. I’ve got something I’ve got to talk to Gage about,” Fury says.

  “Okay, honey,” I reply blowing him a kiss.

  Dad and I get the usual how are you, what’s happening out of the way as he walks me into the huge, industrial clubhouse kitchen where my Mom and sisters are.

  “Spend some time with your sisters, and then come find me, yeah?”

  “Sure,” I return happily. Catching sight of Dakota, who’s currently wrapped in Cody’s arms, I screech. “I freaking missed you, lamb chop.”

  Detaching herself from her husband, Dakota runs at me full-tilt until we crash into each other almost falling to the floor in the process.

  “Not as much as I missed you,” she whispers in my ear.

  “Crazy, I tell you. Freaking, cray-zee,” Neveah quips next to Mom.

  Mom doesn’t reply because she’s used to Dakota and my brand of crazy. Quirking my eyebrow at her, I ask,

  “What are you doing all the way over there? Just because I found a man doesn’t mean I have cooties, you know?”

  Neveah giggles and doesn’t hesitate to join our group hug.

  “For your information, I missed you as well, birdy,” Neveah informs me.

  I’m not sure when it started – the nicknames – but I know it was before we were old enough to spell them. Dakota is lamb chop, which made sense at the time because she was as cute as a baby lamb and at everything in sight. I know, kids’ logic, but whatever. I, for obvious reasons, became birdy. Avery, birdy, not very original, but again, whatever. And Neveah? Well, hers is a little more embarrassing.

  Dakota and I were sitting on the front steps of our house one day when Nick came to visit. This wasn’t a rare occurrence, in fact, he came over often. We were both deep
in thought, so needless to say, he scared the crap out of us when he popped up out of nowhere, but him being there that day ended up being highly beneficial.

  See, we had been thinking about a nickname for Neveah for weeks. She was only four, but Dakota and I felt like she was missing out by not having one. Again, remember this is kid logic. We explained out quandary to Nick, and the good friend he is came to the rescue.

  He told us he thought Neveah was as graceful and pretty as a butterfly, and with the way she flitted from person to person, the name Flutterby was born. Neveah loved it then, but now? Not so much.

  “So flutterby, where’s Grandpa?” I ask, referring to Nick.

  “Right here, Avery. But I prefer, Nick,” he says with a smile.

  Giving me a wink, Nick claims Neveah and Cody, Dakota. I can’t help but sigh at the sight of my sisters with their men. They are all so happy they could burst. It might have taken a long time to get there, but in the end, they did, and I couldn’t be more ecstatic.

  Mom takes ahold of my hand, pulling me into her embrace. There’s nothing like a Mom hug, even when you’re twenty-five.

  “Are you happy, baby?” She asks quietly.

  “So happy, Mom,” I whisper, tears burning the back of my eyes. And it’s true. In all my life I’ve never been this happy and I never thought I would be.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “What?” I ask curiously.

  “Finding your happy ending,” she smiles. “Your Dad and I had a beautiful beginning, a rocky middle, but our ending is more than I’d ever wished for. All I ever wanted for you and your sisters was to have what your father and I have. Minus the rocky patch in the middle, that is. It took you longer than it did them, but I always knew it would. You needed someone special, Avery. I’m not saying the men your sisters have chosen aren’t special, but they aren’t the kind of partner you need.”

  “How so? Cody does amazing work at the youth center. He helps so many of those kids and he loves Kota like crazy. And Nick, he’s a little rough around the edges, sure, but he adores Neveah. They’re perfect for each other,” I declare, unsure of where she’s going with this.

  Mom squeezes my hand in hers and smiles down at me meaningfully.

  “I love Nick and Cody. And you’re right, they are perfect for Dakota and Neveah. I’m not saying what they have isn’t beautiful, baby because it is. And I love that for them. That doesn’t stop me from wanting more for you, though. You need someone to challenge you, a man who isn’t afraid to stand up to you when you’re being stubborn. A man who’s strong, fierce, and protective. But you also need that person to support your dreams, hold you when you cry, and be there for you even when you are bound and determined not to let anyone in. Fury’s that man, baby. He always had been. I saw it when you were fifteen, but I was sure of it when I saw the look on his face after he brought you home from that awful place. What you two have is different to what your father and I, and both of your sisters have. You two have had to fight for what you have, Avery, and in my eyes, that makes it, even more, beautiful.”

  “Oh, Mom,” I breathe.

  “Just telling the truth, beautiful girl,” she states, kissing my cheek. “I love you, Avery.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  EPILOGUE

  ~ Fury ~

  “Always love a woman for her personality. They have like ten you can choose from.”

  - mancards

  Five years later…

  “Baby, how fucking long does it take to get ready? We’re only going to your parents for Christ’s sake.”

  Scooping my son up off the floor, where he’s been busy entertaining himself for the last hour while his mother gets ready, I groan at how heavy he’s getting. It feels like yesterday Avery gave birth to him when in reality it was a little over three years ago.

  Dexter Amos Scott – named after Gage and the son I had lost before I had the chance to meet him – came into the world four weeks early with a set of lungs to rival his mother. He was fucking perfect. He still is.

  Having a baby in the house was a huge adjustment. Not for Avery but for me. I was home as often as I could be when I wasn’t needed at the club, but I didn’t realize until Dex came along how much I took for granted Avery would be awake and waiting for me.

  Finding her passed out in the strangest of places, some of which being; at the kitchen table, on the floor beside Dex’s bouncer, and once sitting on the closed lid of the toilet clued me into the fact my wife was struggling. Avery wouldn’t have said anything if I hadn’t called her on it, it’s not her way. But after copious nights of no sleep, breastfeeding non-stop, and not even having the opportunity to take a shower in peace, I stepped in and took the choice out of her hands.

  In the beginning, she didn’t thank me for it. Avery was all fired up to be the best mother and wife she could. What she didn’t know was that she already was. I explained it to her, telling her that she wasn’t any good to our boy, me, but most especially her if she didn’t take the time to look after herself. Mine wasn’t a popular point of view, but eventually, Avery caved and let me take Dex out for a few hours so she could have a bath and get a few hours sleep. It worked, because afterward, my wife was a much nicer person to be around.

  I’m not saying, Avery isn’t nice, she just wasn’t herself back then. Let’s put it this way; she wasn’t her usual charming self when faced with sleep deprivation and the inability to spend four hundred years in the bathroom at any one given time.

  Avery and I got married in the courtyard outside the clubhouse in a small ceremony only attended by family and friends. It was what we both wanted. Neither of us was interested in having a big wedding. As long as she got to wear the wedding dress of her dreams, her Dad walked her down the aisle, and everyone we knew and loved was there, my woman was happy. And I’m all for making her happy so I made it happen.

  We’d been living together for six months when I proposed, but if you ask Avery it wasn’t much of a proposal, it came across as a demand. And for the most part, she’s right. I wasn’t taking any chances that she’d say no, so I took her out on my bike to a natural hot spring I found by accident one day and popped the question. I may have told her we weren’t leaving until she said yes, so she might as well give in and agree on the spot.

  Four months later – because that’s all the time I was willing to give her – Avery, Blaine, Beth, Lonnie, and Kennedy had our wedding planned, along with the after party. That’s the only part of our wedding day I have regrets about. Cash, Gage, Boss, Diesel, and I got so drunk that I couldn’t make love to my new wife.

  What was worse was when Avery decided to share this with her friends. They gave me shit about it for months afterward, even now it’ll occasionally come up in conversation. Don’t ask me how, but they work it in there somehow.

  “Oh, my God. Seriously?” Avery snaps from the mouth of the hallway. “If you had to carry around the equivalent to a watermelon for months on end, pee every five seconds, and spend twenty minutes trying to get up after you’ve fallen down attempting to tie your shoelaces up, you’d take a long time to get ready too.”

  Grinning at her, I walk over and pull her into my arms. My son, the peacemaker he is, leans toward her, laying a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek.

  “Lub you, momma,” he says in his cute as shit little boy voice.

  I swear I hear my wife sigh in delight every time he does shit like that.

  “Love you more, buddy. Now, go find your shoes please,” Avery prompts.

  “Boots, pwease?” Dex asks, begging Avery with his eyes to let him wear the Harley boots I picked up for him last time I was in Denver.

  “As long as you get socks too, you can wear your boots,” she concedes.

  Avery wasn’t impressed when I brought them home. Not because she didn’t think they were adorable, in fact, she gushed all over those bastards. No. My wife was pissed because she thought I was attempting to turn our son into my clone before he’d even
made it to school. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either.

  I don’t care what my son does for a living or whether he joins the MC when he’s old enough, but no kid of mine is going to be caught dead wearing a pair of fucking Crocs. Yeah, you heard me. Avery bought my son fucking Crocs. Made him wear them too.

  On a side note; Avery lost her shit when she found me burning all six pairs in the backyard. But when I explained my feelings about my son wearing shoes suited for people who worked in morgues, she relented. I didn’t let up until I got her promise not to replace the fuckers as soon as my back was turned, though. That promise took sexual coercion on my part, none of which I begrudged and both of us got off on, So, in the end, it was all good.

  Spinning Avery in my arms until we’re only separated by her eight-month pregnant belly, I kiss her speechless and whisper,

  “Next time let me know you’ve fallen and you can’t get up. I might video it and send it to all our friends first, but then I’ll help you up, baby.”