by Gemma Weir
I don’t know how long I sit on the bridge for, but after a while, I get up, climb back onto my bike and ride back to the clubhouse. I ignore everyone and go straight to my room, closing the door behind me. The overwhelming need to throw my cell across the room consumes me. I miss her. Right now, we should be kissing or fucking, or talking about our baby. I’ve spent every night in her bed for weeks, she’s slept in my arms, but now when we should be figuring out the future, she’s turning into the fucking ice queen again.
With my cell in my hand, I sink down onto my cold bed and wish that I was still at her house in her girly fucking pink bedroom with her. I stare at the screen on my phone, praying for her to call me, but nothing happens.
Staring up at the ceiling, the demons of my nightmares start to swirl in my mind. My heart seems to slow, like each beat is an effort and a wave of exhaustion crests over me. I want to ride to her house and demand she fucking do as she’s told, but she’s not a club whore looking for a good time and willing to do whatever I like for an opportunity to ride the V.P. Nikki’s a fucking millionaire, she doesn’t need me.
I’m the fucking devil and she knows exactly who I am.
When my sister arrives at my house I fall into her arms and start to cry. She guides me to the couch and when I collapse she pulls my head into her lap and strokes my hair. “I’ve.” Sob. “Ruined.” Sob. “Everything.”
“Shhh,” she coos, laying one hand on my side and squeezing reassuringly. “It’s going to be okay, it’s all going to be okay,” she calmly repeats over and over.
I wish I could believe her, but I went too far this time. I pushed him away and he won’t come back, I know he won’t. Why would he? Why would anyone want to deal with my brand of crazy? Another sob convulses through my body and I curl into a ball and let my tears flow.
Can I do this without him? Do I want to?
No, I don’t. Cam literally laid my ghosts to rest. He burned my parents’ house to the ground, he protected me and guarded my secrets, and all I’ve done in return is hurt him and reject him.
He thinks he’s a monster, but it’s not him, it’s me. Cam doesn’t deserve to be treated like I’ve treated him, and I don’t blame him for finally having had enough and walking away.
After a while my sobs recede and are replaced with stuttering breaths and silent tears. Glancing down I realize that my hand is resting across my stomach, covering his child, his son or daughter that is growing inside of me.
He gave me this. He gave me this fresh start, this chance at a happy ever after that I didn’t dream was possible for me. Cam’s a fairytale knight, dressed as the evil fiend. He thinks he’s filled with darkness, but he’s not, the darkness fears him. He might be a dangerous man, but he does bad things for good reasons.
Cam is nothing like my father.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dove asks quietly, her hand still gently stroking my hair.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
Her hand slides around to cover mine across my stomach and my cheeks burn as fresh tears fall from my eyes, but these ones aren’t tears of sadness.
“We’re not our parents,” she says, her voice strong and unwavering.
Pulling myself from her lap I sit up and look at her. “What?”
“We’re not them and we don’t ever have to be them. That baby inside of you will never have to know what it feels like to be scared and alone, because it will have you, and it will have Blade, and it will have me. You already know how to be a great mom because you were that to me. When she didn’t protect us, you did; when she didn’t defend us, you did. You have always been more than my sister. You are my hero, and that baby is so incredibly lucky that it gets to have you as a mom—so lucky.” Her face crumples and tears run down her cheeks.
I stare at her and let her words bury deep into my soul. Every moment of the last two years, five months, and six days, has led to this. All I wanted was my sister back and a fresh start, and I have both of those things—but I have so much more too.
“I really messed up,” I confess.
“Whatever it is, we can fix it.”
“I don’t know if I can fix it,” I say, my voice cracking.
“What happened?”
“It was all too much, and I pushed him away,” I admit.
“So, go get him back,” she says with a knowing smile on her face.
“I don’t know how.”
“How do you feel about him, Nikki? I know this is hard for you, but you have to be honest with yourself.”
“I don’t know.”
Dove jumps from her seat and stands in front of me, her eyes blazing with anger. “Yes, you do. You know exactly how you feel about him, but you’re just too much of a coward to admit it. I know it’s scary and that he could hurt you, but at the moment it’s you that’s hurting both of you. So be honest, how do you feel?” she shouts.
“I…” I try to speak, but the words get lodged in my throat.
“You don’t need to be alone, Nikki. These walls aren’t protecting you anymore, they’re stifling you. How do you feel about him?” she prods angrily.
“I…” Nothing comes and I lift my hands to my hair and pull at it, trying to literally yank the words from my mind.
“Nicole Eloise Jefferies you are not a fucking coward, now how do you feel about him?” my sister screams, stepping toward me and pointing a menacing finger at me.
Jumping up from the couch I shout. “I love him, okay? I love him.”
Her anger dissolves and a radiant smile lights up her beautiful face. “I know you do, Sissy. I just needed you to realize it too.”
My body feels heavy and weightless at the same time. I love him. I love him. I love him. I really fucking love him. Just saying the words in my mind is freeing, so with wide eyes I look at my sister and say them again. “I love him.”
She laughs. “I know. Now you need to find him and tell him.”
My smile falls away. “Oh God, he hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she says with a wave of her hand. “He loves you. He might be pissed at you, but he still loves you.”
“What am I going to do?” I cry.
Her eyes scan my body and then land on my puffy, tear-streaked face. “Firstly, you need a shower and to get dressed. Then we need to go find him, so you can apologize and tell him how you feel.”
I nod, but don’t move.
“Shower,” Dove says pointing to the stairs.
I nod again. “I love him,” I say, the words sounding foreign coming from my tongue.
Dove giggles. “You need to tell him, not me.”
“Yes. Yep, okay,” then I turn and head upstairs.
Thirty minutes later I’m showered, dressed and terrified. Placing my hand over my stomach, I whisper to our baby that’s growing inside of me. “Let’s go see if we can get Daddy to forgive Mommy.”
My eyes scan the bar and for the first time since I became a Sinner, I question why I want this life. With a glass of whiskey in one hand and my omni-silent cellphone in the other, I watch as my brothers drink, laugh, and live their lives, and yet I feel completely disconnected from them.
Before I met her, I was content with this life. I was happy. I scoff to myself, happy? I was drunk, I was mindless, but I don’t think I really had any clue what happiness was until the first night I spent with her.
Now I’m adrift, stuck between knowing what it feels like to find true peace and not knowing if I’ll get to keep it.
“You okay, brother?” Anders says, dropping down onto the stool next to me.
“Nope,” I say as I lift the glass of whiskey to my lips.
“Nikki?” He asks.
“She’s pregnant.”
He nods knowingly, then his eyes narrow, and he glares at me. “You claiming her?”
I laugh, and the sound is hollow and broken. “I tried. Told her I loved her, and she told me she wanted to be alone.”
“So?” Anders says, his eyes
blazing.
“So, she doesn’t want me. She fucking kicked me out of her house. I told her I loved her, and she just looked at me like she had no idea what the words meant.”
“So tell her again, and again, until she understands.”
Slowly, I turn my head to look at the man sitting next to me.
His shoulders are set and his tone is unyielding. “You think I didn’t have to fight for Grits? Do you think I didn’t have to tell her how I felt about her a thousand fucking times before she believed me? If you love her, then man up and go fight for her.”
My feet hit the ground and I’m standing before I realize that I’ve moved. I nod, lift the glass in my hands to my lips and throw back the contents. “She’s mine,” I growl. “I love her and she’s mine, and so is that baby. You’re right, you’re so fucking right.”
Anders laughs and pats me on the shoulder. “So, go get her.”
Full of determination, I march through the clubhouse and into the bright Texas sunlight. I need her. She might hate me, but I fucking love her, and until she figures out how to let me in, my love will have to be enough for both of us.
The drive to the clubhouse seems to take forever and I wish more than anything I’d taken my sister up on her offer to come with me. Parking the Comet, I climb out, and with a deep breath I slam the door and head toward the club.
I know he’s here. Dove called Anders, who confirmed that Cam is in the bar just a few feet from me. My eyes are fixed on the doors. Beyond them is Cam, the man I love and the father of my child. I want to laugh and hysteria bubbles up inside of me. I have no idea if I can do this; if I can tell him that I’m sorry and that I need him and that I love him. But I need to try.
The doors open, and a single figure emerges.
Cam.
Our eyes lock at the same time and within seconds we’ve closed the distance between us and we’re standing in front of each other. He opens his mouth to speak, but I know that If I don’t tell him now I might lose my courage, so I blurt. “I love you.”
He blinks at me and then shakes his head like he’s not sure if he actually heard me right.
“I love you,” I say again. “I love you and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“You love me?” Cam says slowly.
A single tear escapes but I ignore it and simply nod. “I love you, Cam. I’m in love with you and I know I’m a fucking mess. I can’t promise that I won’t push you away again, but I promise that I’ll try not to.”
My words are cut off by his lips. His strong arms wrap around me and his lips claim me and with every touch, every moment that he holds me in his embrace, I feel his love for me and I try to give him mine in return.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathless. He rests his forehead against mine and looks at me.
“I need you,” I whisper. “More than I have ever needed anyone. I need you to love me and to take care of me and hold me every night. I have tried not to need anyone for so long that I don’t know how good I’ll be at needing you, but even when I try to push you away, I need you to remember that you are my knight in fucking shining armor and I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.”
“Duchess,” his voice cracks and his eyes fall closed for a second. When they open, I see how much my words mean to him. “I love you so fucking much, you are everything. You and our baby are everything.”
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say all this, but I love you and when I’m with you I’ve never felt less alone in my whole damn life. Stay with me tonight and the night after and the night after that. Stay with me forever,” I say, the words pouring from me in a rush.
“Every fucking night for the rest of our lives, Duchess,”
The person you are is a product of the things you do.
My life has been dark and stained with my sins, but instead of damnation, fate gave me redemption.
My Duchess is everything. She brings me peace when I don’t deserve it, and love when I didn’t expect it, and now she’s giving me her. A gift that I’ll never be worthy of, but that I’ll protect for the rest of my life.
She’s my Duchess, my peace, my everything.
I used to dream of escape and freedom and being happy, but I don’t need to dream anymore.
I don’t need to dream because the most perfect daydreams are still there when I open my eyes.
Blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes and a tenacity that is all her father. I never wake up alone. Cam holds us both in his strong arms and protects us from dragons and demons and shadows of the past.
He’s our protector, our knight, our everything.
The End.
I don’t have much to say in these acknowledgements so I figured I’d bullet point the crap out of it.
I am so fucking glad this book is finished.
Writing is hard, and this book required a lot of gin to get it done.
Yes, Blade is my brother-in-law’s nickname. No, I didn’t do it deliberately, and no, this book isn’t based on him.
Sarah Stanley is an amazing human being and I adore her!
Anyone who reads my books are the bestest, most brilliant people in the world.
Yes, there are more Archer’s Creek books coming soon.
