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

by Natasha Thomas

  Blaine’s face pales at my admission, and it takes everything I’ve got not to scoop her up into my arms and comfort her. I know this shit has to be hard for her to hear, especially without knowing I’m referring to her, but I can’t stop now.

  Forging ahead, I battle through the pain reflected back at me in her beautiful eyes, saying,

  “Alysia and I were already pretty much done when I met Bec. I was on leave here in Furnace but still working for the same guy in L.A., when he called and told me to get my ass back there to fill his spot at a tattoo expo he wasn’t going to be able to make it to. Beth was my first call after booking my ticket, and she agreed to let me stay with her while I was in town. I gave up my studio apartment in L.A. before I was deployed the last time since I was never there anyway. That trip I met Bec, and we started our thing. Again, we weren’t exclusive, but that being said, neither of us were playing the field. Bec wasn’t interested in being in a relationship. She’d been burned by her last boyfriend and didn’t want to risk a repeat performance. And, at the time, that suited me just fine. I wasn’t looking to settle down with anyone, and even if I was, Bec wasn’t the woman for me.”

  Interrupting, Blaine murmurs,

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Alysia and Bec were distractions, baby. Good women who were good to me, but nevertheless they were still distractions. See, I’d been home for a few days after one of my longer deployments when I went to visit some friends, and while I was there, I met a girl. Fucking gorgeous, sweet, shy, but all that hiding a will of steel, I knew she was meant for me,” I recall like it was yesterday. “The problem was, not only was she too good for me, she was too fucking young. Way too young. You’ve got no clue how it feels to find the woman made especially for you and find out she’s only sixteen.”

  “Oh my God,” she breathes.

  Yeah, now she’s getting it.

  “I knew I’d have to wait until you were older, Blaine, but I couldn’t be around you and not want you. That’s why I limited the time I spent at the clubhouse and you when you were there. I already felt like a piece of shit for falling in love with you before you were old enough for me to act on it, so I figured it was better not to test fate by spending every minute I was in town with you.”

  “I thought you hated me,” she sighs, the action causing her shoulders to slump forward.

  “Never,” I grind out taking hold of her hand resting on the table in front of her. “I never hated you, baby. I couldn’t hate you if I tried. Needed you to think I did, though.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?” She asks in a defeated voice.

  I hate hearing the sadness tingeing her otherwise sweet voice, but the truth isn’t always pretty. And this is no exception

  “I was in love with a sixteen-year-old, Blaine. Not only would her Dad and his brothers kill me, but mine would too if I even thought about touching you. Pushing you away meant I could come back to you one day. The alternative was, I end up dead. That’d mean we’d never have a chance at making a life together, and that wasn’t something I was willing to risk. I hated every second of it, but by the time I’d put down roots here, started the shop, and got my shit together, you’d stopped coming to visit. The timing couldn’t have been worse, but you showing up to take care of Avery, and me dealing with what happened to Bec, meant I lost my shot at us again. At least, I thought I did. When you made that play at your apartment, don’t for one second believe it was unwelcome. I was still getting my head out of my ass when it came to you, figuring out how to make an approach without ruining what we had. Given time, I would’ve sorted my head out and made that move, but you beat me to it. And, I needed that. Didn’t know it then but I sure as fuck do now.”

  Brushing the pad of my thumb over the soft skin on the top of her hand, the tears Blaine’s been struggling to contain spillover.

  “See, baby, I needed you to make the first move because I needed to know I wasn’t making a mistake taking us there. I guessed you were into me – had feelings for me – but I didn’t have any idea how deep those ran.”

  Sniffling, Blaine’s back snaps straight and her eyes catch mine, mesmerizing me, daring me to look away.

  “How could you not know? The moment I saw you for the first time I was drawn to you. Not because of how handsome you were either, but you were that and then some. No,” she says, shaking her head vehemently. “I was drawn to you because in a room full of men, men who are your friends, you looked lost. You laughed, joked, smiled with them, but I saw you. I saw everything you were trying to hide from them. It was then, I knew, I just knew I wanted to be the one to help you find yourself again because no matter the cost, it would be worth it.”

  “Jesus, baby,” I mutter, in complete awe.

  Blaine had seen what no one else had. The façade I’d spent months, years, hell, most of my life perfecting, she saw through in seconds.

  My brothers never hinted they knew anything was up with me. They didn’t question the man I’d become. Acting like I was still the same laid back, easy going guy I was before I joined the Army, the guys let me be whoever I wanted to be. No recrimination. No judgment. Just acceptance.

  For years, Boss asked me to join Vengeance. He wanted good men at his side when he eventually took over the club from his asshole of a father. Each time he asked the answer remained the same, no. Boss didn’t push for an explanation, he accepted my decision for what it was.

  No bullshit, I seriously considered prospecting for the MC after I was discharged. I know the men, believe in what they stand for, their code of honor, and I respect what they do for Furnace. But at thirteen, not knowing where life would lead me, I made my Mom a promise that nothing could persuade me to break.

  My Mom expressed her concerns about me hanging around with Boss and Diesel, and she did it freely. Emily, Diesel’s Mom, and mine were friends. Not tight, but they were friendly when they had the occasion to run into each other. Emily is a kind, sweet woman who did her best to raise her son right, although Diesel did anything but make that easy for her.

  Diesel’s Dad, Scott died after suffering a massive heart attack when his son was four. Doctor’s later explained that blood clot had blocked one of the main arteries, causing blood become trapped in his heart and, eventually, shutting it down, the ER doctor’s unable to restart it. Scott was twenty-eight.

  Emily fought through the pain of losing her husband, her other half, and focused on raising her boy. The MC helped out – kicking in where they could – when Emily allowed it, but by the age of twelve, Diesel was already a handful. Add Boss to the equation – Emily practically raising him seeing as his Dad was a useless piece of shit – and the two of them were no match for a single woman alone.

  We were young, we did stupid shit, and had a fucking good time doing it. Sleeping with girls a few years older than us, joyriding, crashing high school parties, stealing alcohol from the clubhouse, you name it, we did it. Hence, my Mom’s concern.

  She didn’t bother dictating I stay clear of them – I think even then she knew it was an unrealistic ask – but she did make me promise that I wouldn’t, under any circumstances, join the MC.

  My Mom suffered through plenty living with my Dad, then raising four kids on her own, and working two jobs to support us. She wasn’t asking a lot of me, so as any son who’d seen their mother cry herself to sleep night after night, I didn’t hesitate to give her what she needed.

  I don’t regret promising to keep clear of the club other than as a friend. I couldn’t. If it gave her piece of mind and helped her sleep better at night, I’d do just about anything to make that happen.

  That said, Boss, Diesel, and I are still as close as we were as kids. But hearing Blaine voice what she did, it makes me wonder if they ever really knew me at all.

  “My Mom knew,” Blaine mumbles. “I told her without telling her,” she says cryptically. “Even back then, I knew better than to tell her who you were, but I told her everything else. I told her you were loyal, s
trong, intelligent to the point it was actually a little intimidating, and so devastatingly handsome I couldn’t have dreamed up someone so perfect. And I told her you were lost. Mom didn’t warn me not to try, she knew me better than that. She did tell me to be careful, though. But I think she did it because she knew I was already in over my head with what I was feeling for you. Mom wanted me to guard my heart, and made me promise to take a step back if I was in danger of getting hurt.”

  “I would never have hurt you. Fucking never,” I whisper fiercely.

  “I know that,” she confirms with a sharp nod. “But I was young, and honestly, I didn’t have the first clue what I was doing. All I saw was a beautiful, lost man who walked into a room with a cloud of sorrow hanging over his head. Wanting to save someone from themselves, and being able to are two entirely different things, Jonas. There’s no doubt I wanted to help you, I just didn’t know if I could,” she sighs.

  “The thing is, you did help, baby. You might not have known it, but you were the only thing that helped.”

  “What does this mean for us now, Jonas?” She probes cautiously. “You’re still you. Still lost. Still working out whatever demons losing Bec left you with. And I’m still me. Nothing has changed with the exception of having a baby who shares our DNA.”

  She isn’t wrong, but she isn’t right either.

  “Before I share why I wanted you here with me tonight, I want you to answer a question for me,” I tell her. “Don’t think about what happens after you answer it. Don’t worry about what your answer will mean for us. Whatever happens, we’ll be good. And we won’t be solid just because you’re having my baby, Blaine. Baby aside, I want you in my life however I can have you.”

  “Okay,” she mumbles, eyeing me warily.

  Biting the bullet and going for it, I ask,

  “I told you I’m in love with you, and that hasn’t changed. I fell for you when you were sixteen. Willingly left my heart behind when I had to leave you, each and every time. And I found my home in you when you came to live here nearly a year ago. Might not have shown it, but I’ve always loved you, Blaine. I always will. What I want to know is if you still feel the same way about me? You’ve hinted at it, baby. Told me that you fell for me when you were a kid. What you didn’t say was…”

  “Yes,” Blaine chokes out through her tears. “I was made for you, and you were made for me.”

  Blinking back tears of my own, I rasp,

  “I need the words, baby.”

  Without missing a beat, Blaine pushes her chair out, stands, making her way around the table, and situates herself in my lap. Wrapping her arms around my neck, Blaine doesn’t drop her gaze from mine.

  “I love you, Jonas Malachi Williams. I knew you were special when I was sixteen. I knew you would change my life that very same day. And before you left, the first time after meeting you, I had already tied my heart up in a neat, tidy package to send with you. Mom might have told me to guard my heart, but I knew I wouldn’t have to because you would end up doing it for me.”

  Burying my head in the juncture between her shoulder and neck, I groan,

  “You love me?”

  “As you and your sister would say; abso-fucking-lutely,” she giggles.

  The hand attached to my arm not wrapped around Blaine’s waist shifts until it spans across her growing belly, resting gently on top of our child.

  “You’re going to move in with me.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Permanently. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Tonight. I want you in my bed, waking up with me every morning, and falling asleep every night in my arms. Wherever our days take us, I want to know I’m coming home to you at night. We’ve wasted enough time already, baby, I don’t want to waste more.”

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  And with that one word, I’m found.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ~ Blaine ~

  When I said; “Really?” What I actually meant was lie to me. No one wants to know their ass looks fat in their favorite jeans.

  - Blaine’s secret thoughts

  Driving back to Jonas’ apartment after dinner was surreal. Everything felt different, yet the same. Similar could be said for the nighttime routine we had developed over the last few weeks.

  There was a lot more touching, just a gentle hand running down my back, soft kisses on the top of my head, a hand squeeze here and there, but it meant everything to me.

  To look at Jonas, not many people would believe he can do tender and sweet. His build, his height, his gruff demeanor, all point toward Jonas being rough and demanding. Don’t be mistaken; he can be that too. Just not with me.

  “Are you ready for bed?” He asks wrapping a muscular arm around my waist, fitting his front to my back.

  “Mmhmm,” I reply, more than ready to collapse.

  “I’m going to rely on you to guide this, baby. You want me with you, you say so. You want me to keep sleeping on the couch till you’re comfortable with what we’re building here, I’m good with that too,” he offers.

  This is what I’ve been thinking non-stop about since we finished dinner. There’s no doubt in my mind I want to share a bed with Jonas, but my self-control is non-existent around him. Not to mention, pregnancy hormones have been playing havoc with my libido lately, which means there’s a good chance I’d jump Jonas in the middle of the night.

  “Ah, um, about that,” I stutter stupidly.

  Jonas spins me around to face him, his hands settling on my shoulders as his head dips down until it’s only a few scant inches from mine.

  “This is your show, sweetheart. I’ll be happy if I just get the privilege of holding you; everything else can wait. We’ve got time, baby. Fucking years if that’s how long it takes for you to be ready.”

  Grimacing, I whisper,

  “Um, that’s not what I was going to say.”

  He blinks rapidly at my admission before his eyebrows snap together like they always do when he’s trying to work something out.

  “What were you going to say then, babe?”

  I take a deep breath in and out before beginning, blushing furiously.

  “Everyone experiences pregnancy differently. I’ve been really lucky, though, because aside from a month or two of morning sickness early on, I haven’t had any other problems,” I babble.

  “Yeah, I know, you told me that. But what’s that got to do with us sharing a bed?” He asks, looking adorably confused.

  This is where it gets embarrassing. I shouldn’t be, but telling the man you’ve been in love with since you were sixteen that you want nothing more than to jump his bones, repeatedly, is utterly mortifying.

  “Because-if-you-do-I’ll-want-to-have-sex-with-you,” I rush out as if it’s one word.

  An unapologetic all too cocky grin spreads across his face as my confession sinks in, only serving to worsen my humiliation. If there were ever an occasion I wished to be able to hide under a rock, it would be now.

  Covering my face with my hands, I wait for him to burst out laughing. He doesn’t, though. Instead, Jonas pries my hands away, taking them in his and pulls me the last few inches into the hard, muscular wall of his bare chest.

  Not grinning anymore but outright smiling, one I’ll have you note that reaches his eyes, not a usual occurrence, Jonas dips his head until his mouth is so close to mine I can almost taste him.

  “There’s a difference between wanting and needing it, baby. But there’s something I need to know before I do what I’ve wanted to since the day I left your bed is which one is it? Do you need me to take away that ache? Or do you want me to?”

  With the feel of his warm body running the length of mine, the smell of soap and man reaching my nose, and the steady thump of his heart underneath my palm that’s found its way to resting above it, I bite my lip and nod.

  “I know there’s a difference, and I know what I want. I want you, Jonas. All of you.”

  As soon as I get the last word out, Jonas closes the distance between
us and covers my mouth with his, running his tongue over my lips. Getting my other hand free, I wrap both of them behind his neck, do a small hop, wrapping my legs around his narrow hips. Jonas gets the memo quickly, sliding his large palms down to cup my ass, at the same time anchoring me to him.

  Pelvis to pelvis, I can feel the hot, hard length of him pushing against the thin barrier of my sleep shorts. As he rotates his hips, grinding his erection against my core, the panic I thought would surface doesn’t.

  To say I was worried about what would happen if I had sex with Jonas again is an astronomical understatement. It wasn’t the pain so much as the disconnection I felt from him that concerned me.