Nothing Else Matters (Demons Disciples MC Book 2)

by Allana Walker

  “Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “No. I'll deal with it. Thanks, Pop.”

  “I'm here, son. For you and Daria. She's like a daughter to me. I'd hate for anything to happen to either of you if it's something I or the club could help with. Don’t worry about Emily. As soon as she sees her little brother or sister, she’ll forget all her worries.”

  Nodding, I see Nico come out, followed by Daria.

  “I'm going to go home. I'm not feeling too great, plus I need to call Dad about my broken bed.” Daria kisses my cheek. I give a satisfied grin, knowing we broke it last night.

  “You want me to come with?” I offer.

  “No, it’s okay. I'll see you later. Can you pick Emily up from school?”

  “Of course.”

  “Congratulations, sweetheart.” Dad hugs her. “You need anything, you just call. Okay?” He kisses her cheek.

  “Thanks, Barron.”

  I watch her leave. When she’s gone, I say, “Blair.” He walks toward me, abandoning his game of pool with Louis, another brother. “I want you to keep an eye on Daria today. Check in every hour. Make it discrete.”

  “Yes, sir.” He nods and runs to catch up to her. Normally he’s with Emily, but she’s safe at school, and I’m picking her up tonight, so he’s free to look after Daria.

  “We need to patch that boy in,” Dad says.

  “Striker, what's going on?” Nico pulls at my arm when he approaches the bar.

  “Your sister is being a stubborn bitch.” I sigh, risking a glance at him, and he chuckles.

  “Aren't all women? I thank God that we had a son and not a daughter.”

  “Oh, you wait until he's old enough to talk back and slam doors. You'll wish you had a girl.” Fran laughs.

  “Boys I can handle. There's no way I could handle a guy coming home to take my baby girl out. I can barely handle knowing my best friend is fucking my sister.”

  “How are you going to handle Emily bringing back a boy?” Louis asks.

  “She's getting locked up until she’s sixty.” I grip the neck of the beer bottle hard, as if it was this fictional boyfriend’s neck.

  “If she's anything like her mom, she'll find a way to sneak out.” Jess laughs. We all turn to look at her. “What? You think the wicked stepmother let Daria come here when we were seventeen?” Her eyebrow arches. “Denver girls don't do well with being told no.”

  “Well, Emily is a Xanders.”

  “She still has Denver blood in her,” Jess whispers, winking at me.

  “Shit.”

  “What if the new addition is another girl?” Louis asks.

  “Then I'm royally fucking screwed!”

  “Oh, man. I would love to see you dealing with three Daria’s.” Nico belly laughs.

  “Fuck you, dickhead.”

  “Fifty-fifty chance, man.”

  I throw a beer mat at him, hitting him in the head.

  “Speaking of Denver girls.” Jess rolls her eyes at Nico and me acting like kids and throwing nuts at each other. “Is Daria okay?”

  “Sure, other than the fact she’s throwing up everything she eats. Why?” I tilt my head slightly. I feel like there’s something more going on in Daria’s head that she doesn’t want to tell me, other than the whole Emily thing and now the Ramon stuff. Maybe she spoke to Jess about it.

  “I don’t know. Just …when I saw her outside, she jumped as high as this building when I touched her shoulder.”

  “You need to stop creeping up on people, babe.” Nico chuckles.

  “I didn’t. I called on her, but she was deep in conversation with someone.”

  “Maybe Nicholas. She had to call him and tell him her bed broke.”

  “How… Never mind.”

  “Yeah, please do not explain.” Nico makes a motion of about to throw up.

  Jess giggles. “Are you still creeped out about seeing Daria riding Striker?”

  He squeezes his eyes closed, “Please, babe.”

  “What? Daria has a great ass. I’ve walked in on Travis and Austin with skanks more times than I even want to admit. I even walked in on Travis and one of my colleagues in the staff toilet. You don’t see me cringing every time I see them together, or when they mention that they have sex.”

  “It’s different. I’m sure if they walked in on you and me at it like rabbits, like these two, I’d be breathing through a tube.”

  “No, Nico. No one is at it more than those two. Besides, Austin and Travis have seen us a few times and just gave me high fives.” Jess shrugs. Nico stares at her, dumbfounded. “How do you think Emily or the new baby got in there? A biblical miracle?”

  “Yes,” he grumbles into his drink.

  “That ass, man.” Louis pipes up and looks over at me, winking to let me know he’s kidding and fucking with Nico. I still want to rip his head off for talking about Daria like that, but her ass is truly something else.

  Nico is about to kick the shit out of him when Dad walks over.

  “Louis, you’re going to end up in a body bag and I won’t stop them killing you.”

  “Would be worth it. My last thoughts would be of Daria’s magnificent ass.”

  “Get out of here before I cut your dick off,” I warn him. “What’s up, Pop?”

  “I have something for you. Come with me.” I follow him to his room in the clubhouse. He walks over to his dresser and pulls out a black velvet ring box.

  “Are you asking me to marry you, Pop?”

  “Funny.” He shakes his head and places it in my hand. “This was your mom’s wedding ring. I want you to give it to Daria when you get married.”

  “Dad-”

  “No, listen, son. You make an honest woman out of her. Your mom would want you to have this and pass it on to your wife.”

  I open the box, and I’m met with a white gold band with diamonds around it. I remember her never taking this off, even when she got so thin. She wore it around her neck instead.

  “She would have loved Daria. Emily reminds me so much of her,” Dad whispers. “God, I miss her so damn much sometimes.”

  Looking from the ring to Dad, I see him wiping his eye. “I miss her too.”

  “I know, son.” He pulls me to him, kissing the top of my head. “I know you’ll do right by Daria.”

  I will. She’ll be my wife.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Daria

  Six weeks later-

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  “Oh my God,” Striker whispers, staring at the screen in front of him. We’re at our scheduled baby scan. It’s his first time seeing the baby on the screen and hearing the heartbeat. “Is this real?”

  I look from the screen to see a tearful Striker. I place my hand on his bearded cheek, moving his face to look at me. “Yeah, it’s real.”

  “Baby is happy and healthy,” Dr. Brooks says. “Do you have any questions?”

  “When can we find out the sex?” Striker asks.

  “You can find out now.” Dr. Brooks smiles at him. He looks down at me.

  “Can you write it down and pop it in an envelope?” I ask. “I’ll give it to Jess for safe keeping.”

  “Of course. Gender reveal party?” She moves the camera around, the baby’s legs wide open, and I nod. Dr. Brooks writes down the sex and hands me the envelope. I wipe the gel off my stomach and stand up. “How has Emily taken the news she’s going to be a big sister?” she asks as we walk into her office.

  “Like any other ten-year-old, I guess. Still getting used to the idea.” I smile slightly at her.

  “Once the baby is here, she’ll be ecstatic. I’ll see you again in two weeks.”

  “I thought it was only two scans.”

  “Usually, it is, but because Daria has had miscarriages in the past, I would like to keep an extra eye on her.” Striker nods. “You both look after yourselves and have a happy holiday.”

  “You too, Dr. Brooks.” We say our goodbyes and walk back to the car.

 
We set off, but we go in the opposite direction of Dad’s. Rather than add extra stress with moving into the new house before Christmas, I’d asked Dad if it would be okay to stay there until after the New Year. He was more than happy for me and Emily to stay. “Where are we going?”

  “I have a surprise for you, Miss Denver.”

  I rest my head back and stare at his profile, a piece of his black hair falling on his forehead, his strong jaw, his straight nose, and his full, perfect cupid’s bow lips. I reach over, placing my hand on the back of his neck, and gently scratch at his hairline. His free hand lands on my thigh and he runs his thumb lightly over my jeans. He glances from the road to me.

  “What?”

  “I love you so much, Striker. I had no idea I could love someone as much as I love you. To be honest, I didn’t think we would ever get to this point.” Tears threaten to fall. “I thought I knew what love was with Austin and Jake, but I now know it wasn’t.”

  “Babe, you can’t say shit like that while I’m driving.” He adjusts himself, and I let out a laugh.

  “It’s true, Striker. My grandma told me when I was about eight-years-old, just before she died…” A little smile tugs at my lips, thinking about my grandma. “…she said, DeeDee, you’ll have three types of loves in your life. Don’t settle for the first man that gives you attention. Your first love will be someone you find attractive at a young age. You’ll think it wasn’t love when you get older, but it was what you thought love was.

  Your second love will teach you about what you want and don’t want out of a relationship.

  The third and final love will come out of nowhere, like a freight train slamming into you.” My smile widens. “You’ll care about them whether you want to or not. You’ll see past all their imperfections and dream about marriage and having kids with them. You’ll thank the Lord every day for him and that, my little DeeDee bug, is your one true love.” I blink back the tears, thinking about my grandma and all the words she spoke before she died. She passed the following day after that speech, and I’ve never forgotten it. I’m sure she saw it on a Hallmark card or something, but I didn’t care. All of it rings true; Austin was just a teenage infatuation, Jake was, although I do love him, the one that taught me what I want in a marriage. A present husband. And Striker? He came at me from nowhere and hit me full force. No matter how many times I tried to deny our connection and the feelings he made me feel, I couldn’t help but imagine a future with him. He buried himself deep within my heart with no intention of leaving. I was the moth and he was the flame.

  I notice we’ve stopped, and Striker’s staring at me. I suddenly feel self-conscious and fear I freaked him out with the marriage comment. “What?”

  He says nothing, but leans forward, placing his hand on my cheek and kisses me softly. “I’m not a religious man, but I thanked God for that night twelve years ago. You taught me what love is and that I’m capable of love, Daria. You gave me the gift of life by birthing our daughter, and now we have another one on the way. I just wish we were together throughout all of it.”

  “Don’t.” I can see him starting to think about the past and everything we’ve been through, together and apart. “Don’t go back there, Striker. I want to look toward the future. I’m never looking back ever again.”

  “Part of your past is still out there, Dee.” He sighs.

  “I know, but I’ll get through every bump in life if I have you there holding my hand.”

  “God, I fucking love you.”

  “Using God and a curse word in the same sentence, Mr. Xanders, is blasphemy.”

  “I don’t give a shit. I told you, I’m not a religious man.” He dips his head, kissing my neck.

  “Where’s this surprise?” I snicker, pushing him off.

  He climbs out of the car with a beaming smile on his face, walking around to my side to open the door.

  “Close your eyes.” When I don’t close them, he takes both my hands in his. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life.”

  “Then close your eyes.” I take a deep breath in, close my eyes, and let him guide me to the surprise.

  “Open them.” I blink and see Striker standing looking like the cat that got the cream. My brow furrows when I look around.

  “What's this?” I look away from the empty, dusty building back to Striker.

  “It's for you.”

  “A dirty, empty building?”

  “It's your new dance studio.”

  I look up at him, confused. “But I’ll have a studio at the new house.”

  “This, my beautiful, talented girlfriend, is your new career.”

  “I have a career at Jefferson and Sons.” I fold my arms across my chest, popping my hip.

  “You hate working there. You only took that job because you had no option and it was drilled into your head that you had to be a lawyer.” He rolls his eyes, turning me around and showing me the empty shell of a building again. “But this is your chance to live out your dream. No one is going to tell you you can't live out your dream. Not while I'm around.”

  “Striker.” I close my eyes, sighing deeply.

  “Daria, this is your chance to give a big screw you to all those who said you couldn't do it. And an even bigger fuck you to your stepmom. This is the final part of moving on and letting go of her control over your life for good.”

  My eyes fog over. I know he's right, but I'm petrified.

  “But, I can't.”

  “You can. You know why?” He holds my shoulders, crouching a little to my eye level, giving me a toothy smile. “Because you're Daria Danika Denver, the most talented woman I have ever met, and you have me by your side every step of the way.”

  “But, Striker, we're having a baby in five months. I can't start a business, sort out the new house, and take care of a newborn. It's too much.” I look around the building, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by it all. “I cut my hours at the office to concentrate on my studies to follow my dream of being a drama/dance teacher. I was going to open my own studio eventually, but not right now.”

  “The construction and decorating will take the best part of a year, possibly more depending what you want. Even then, you can hire people and make your own decisions.” His voice and his face light up. He is so excited about this, probably more than me. “The new house is in an almost move-in condition, and me and the guys can fix it all up. Louis and Mars are good at gardening, and they’ll fix the lawn. You concentrate on our baby and finalizing all the legal stuff for the business.”

  “But what about the money side of things, Striker. Can we afford it?”

  “Yes, we can. Dad said he would help out as much as he can if needs be.”

  “You've thought this all through, haven't you?” I look up at him.

  “I may have had a little help in planning and finding this place.” He shrugs.

  I take in a large breath, looking around again. Am I ready for this? Can I do this all with a newborn? I always tell Emily not to let fear get in the way of what she truly wants. It’s time I take my own advice for once. I can’t let my fear and my stepmom’s voice get in the way of my dreams anymore. I need to get rid of the last thing that holds me down.

  Faith over fear.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay, let's do it.”

  He bends, lifting me, swinging me around and making me giggle. I gaze into his beautiful glittering ice blue eyes.

  “I can't believe you’ve done this all for me,” I whisper while he still has me in the air.

  “I had help. Your dad helped.”

  “You and Dad are actually getting along?” My brow rises.

  “I wouldn’t say we’re getting along.” He rolls his eyes. “He still doesn’t like me, but he loves his little girl.”

  “It’s a step in the right direction, though, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “Are you planning on putting me down anytime soon?”

  “Nope.�
�� He nuzzles between my breasts. “I’m happy with this view.”

  I giggle. “Striker, we need to pick Emily up.”

  “Call Jake. Tell him we’ll be ten minutes late.”

  “No, Striker. It’s Christmas Eve. Dad will have dinner ready soon.” He groans, setting me down on my feet. “We have all night. That’s if you’re staying over.”

  “I’m never leaving your side, baby.” He kisses my nose. “This is our first Christmas as a family.”

  We drive to Jake's dad's house to pick up Emily; she was spending a few days with him since she’ll be with us tomorrow.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I say, leaning over and kissing Striker’s cheek.

  I knock on the door, and Jake Jnr. answers. “What the hell happened?” I reach up to touch his bruised face.

  He flinches, stepping back out of my touch and looking over my head to where Striker is waiting. “It’s nothing, Daria.”

  “Nothing, my ass. It looks like someone used you as a punch bag.” I follow him inside.

  “Daria, sweetheart.” Jake Snr. walks over to me, kissing my cheek. “Has he told you about those bruises yet?”

  “Dad, Daria doesn’t need to know. I told you, I’ll deal with it.”

  “Those assholes need to be brought justice.”

  “Jake?” I look at my best friend and implore him to tell me. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “He got jumped. The cowards pounced on him from behind.”

  “Dad,” Jake growls.

  “Oh my God, Jake. Why didn’t you tell me?” I step in front of him, looking up into his bruised grey eyes. “Any idea who did it?”

  “Daria, you have enough on your mind with the new baby. I don’t know who did it.” He averts his eyes from me, turning to collect dishes. I know he’s lying.

  “You’re still my best friend. Do you know why?”

  “Why do you think?” He sighs. “Because I like men.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s the twenty-first century.” I shake my head. Jake is one of the sweetest, most caring guys I know. The only time I’ve seen him being mean was when we first met Jess in kindergarten. Even in high school, even though he was the captain of the football team, he was still nice to everyone. He would only lose it if someone was being nasty to his brother, Jess, Emily, or me.