Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

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Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet Page 49

by Hayley Faiman


  “You did. But you didn’t do anything you can’t apologize for later,” he says. I grimace.

  “The fuck did you do?” he asks.

  “Made sure Brentlee saw Star suckin’ my dick,” I begin. Fury clears his throat. “About twenty minutes after I blew her husband’s brains out,” I finish.

  “When you fuck up, you do it big,” he whistles. I nod. “It might take you a minute, but you’ll get her back. Before you even try, sober the fuck up, and make sure she’s exactly what you want. I can’t survive any more family fuckin’ drama. My woman’s been way too involved in this shit, and she’s stressin’ me out about it. I honestly don’t give a fuck what you all do, but Kentlee does, and I want my baby girl happy—so fix this shit,” he barks.

  He then lifts his chin toward the door, signaling that our meeting is officially over.

  “I’ll fix it, brother,” I murmur as I leave the office.

  I walk into the clubhouse and instead of going toward the bar, I detour to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. Fury’s right.

  I need to sober up. I don’t want to become my father. I’ve worked way too fucking hard to be everything he isn’t to throw it away now. I hear footsteps enter the room. I turn around and see Torch standing a few feet away.

  “We cool?” Torch asks as I remove the cap and take a gulp of the cool liquid.

  “You gonna try to fuck my woman again?” I ask.

  “You gonna cut her loose?” he returns, arching a brow.

  “Fuck no.”

  “You gonna fight for her, get her back?” he asks, smirking.

  “Fuck yeah,” I admit, returning his smile with one of my own.

  “Go get her. She’s hurtin’. Don’t give up without a fight,” he says, shaking his head once before he turns to leave.

  “Why’re you bein’ cool? I was a dick to her, and you,” I admit.

  “Don’t get me wrong. You fuck with her again and I’ll get in there so fast, your head’ll spin. But she loves you and I know you love her. Make that shit right, you two look damn good together,” he mutters before he leaves.

  I stand in the kitchen, alone and sober for the first time in at least a week. Maybe longer. I really don’t remember how long it’s been. It feels like a fucking month.

  I’m just tired.

  So fucking tired.

  I miss my woman.

  I miss my kid.

  I miss my house in the country.

  BRENTLEE

  I look at my phone for probably the tenth time. Every time I try to call my brother, I cancel the call. He doesn’t need my shit showing up on his front porch.

  I haven’t even talked to him since leaving Scotty. He’s broken away from our dysfunctional family, and I should just leave him alone and let him live his life.

  I shake my head and continue folding laundry. I’ve never cleaned so much in all of my life. Bates’ house sparkles, and every piece of laundry is clean and folded, aside from what I’m working on and what’s on Stella’s and my body.

  I sigh as I load the clean, folded laundry in the basket and pick it up to head down the hall to Stella’s room. She isn’t home.

  Kentlee took one look at the dark circles under my eyes this morning during our coffee date and snatched my baby from me.

  I’m supposed to be taking a nap, resting, per her orders, but I can’t do it. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. I see Bates and the look of indifference that crossed his face. I don’t want to think about him, but I can’t help myself. When I close my eyes, he’s all I see. I hate it.

  I hum as I put Stella’s laundry away, trying not to think about the clusterfuck that is my life. I need to move soon. I can’t stay here at his house.

  Though he hasn’t been back, I just can’t be here. I can’t see his things and smell his smell without going completely crazy.

  Once I have her clothes put away, I turn around and scream bloody murder. Not that anybody would hear me, there’s nobody around for miles.

  The basket falls to the floor and my eyes collide with the gorgeous face I have been dreaming of and dreading to see again.

  “Brentlee,” he rasps.

  I don’t move.

  I can’t.

  I want to run to him, to wrap my legs around his waist and bury my face in his neck. But I can’t.

  I’m too fucking broken.

  “No,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

  “I fucked up,” he practically moans. It breaks my heart.

  I look into his eyes and see nothing but devastation there. It breaks my heart, but not enough to welcome him back with open arms.

  “Yeah, you really did,” I whisper. His eyes shoot to mine, his brows furrowed, and his jaw clenching beneath his thick beard. He looks rumpled and unruly, but thank goodness, sober.

  “Tell me how to fix it,” he demands, though his voice is low and even.

  “You can’t. You turned your back and walked away from me again. You embarrassed the hell out of me.”

  I shake my head, unable to look away from him. Memorizing his face, his strong jaw, his furrowed brow, the way his nose slopes and his lips—god his lips, so tempting.

  “You aren’t leaving me,” he grunts, taking a step toward me just as I take a step backward.

  “I wasn’t the one who left,” I say. He stops in his tracks and gives me a slight nod before he opens his mouth to speak.

  “You don’t know where my head was at, baby. Let me tell you. Let me explain,” he pleads.

  I don’t say a word; I walk right past him. I can’t do this in Stella’s room. I can’t look at her gorgeous furniture and bedding and have the memories of how sweet this man can be surrounding me.

  If I do, I’ll make a decision based on emotion and not based off of what I know. I hear him following behind me and I stop in the middle of the living room and turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. I need protection, and my arms are all I have.

  “Explain. Explain turning away from me when I needed you; explain why Star was sucking your cock two seconds later; explain why you humiliated me in front of your friends? Because from where I stand, there’s not a damn excuse good enough to warrant all you’ve done.” I demand.

  Bates looks at me, regret shining in his eyes, and I’m glad; but it doesn’t change a thing. He did all of those things. He can swim in regret—drown in it for all I care.

  I’m angry, hurt, and sad.

  Nothing he could tell me would make me change my mind at this point. Maybe after I calm my racing heart. Maybe after I think about whatever it is he’ll explain. Maybe after I miss him a little more. But right now—I hate him.

  “I killed a man in front of you. I covered you in his blood, Brentlee. And you know what? I didn’t feel a fuckin’ thing when I pulled that trigger. Not remorse, not sadness, not adrenaline, not anger, not regret. Not a single fucking thing. I never do. Killing means nothing but the end of the man breathing my air. How fucked up is that? How fucked up am I? Do you really want my blood soaked hands all over you?” he shouts before he runs his hands through his hair, tugging on the ends.

  “I made you dirty, baby. You watched as I ended a life. Doesn’t even matter who it was, you should have never seen that shit. Not ever. I’m going to hell when this life is over, there’s no hope for me. You’re too fuckin’ good for me, and that’s the truth of it. Whores like Star are what I deserve. I was letting you go, saving you.” He groans.

  Obviously his head and heart are at war with each other, and all I want to do is wrap him in my arms. But I can’t. Not when I still have questions that I need answered.

  “Then why humiliate me?” I ask.

  “Because no matter what I think is best for you, my jealousy and my heart never want to let you go. You’re my tigritsa,” he murmurs.

  “I can’t just let you back in, Bates. You devastated me. You did exactly what I feared. You let me go. Without a backward glance, you just walked away,” I whisper as the tears that have be
en building in my eyes finally fall.

  “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises. I shake my head.

  I can’t. It’s too late. I don’t know if there is anything he could do to make up for how he walked away— the way he so callously grabbed a warm body minutes later, and then the way he humiliated me.

  “No,” I whisper.

  I gasp as he takes the few steps toward me to close the distance between us. His hands are cupping my cheeks, his eyes completely focused on mine and nothing else.

  “I love you, baby, please,” he begs.

  I can’t stop the tears. Even if I wanted to, they continue to fall. A sob escapes my lips as I shake my head and pinch my eyes closed tightly.

  “I’ll win you back, my tigritsa. Swear to fuck, I’ll win you back,” he vows as his lips crash hard against mine, taking me in a bruising, owning kiss.

  “Just don’t,” I sob.

  “Never letting you go. Never walking away again. You could deny me for years, and I’ll be right here, waiting, trying, and begging for you, baby,” he says.

  My shoulders shake with my sobs and his hands drop from my face only to wrap around my back and pull me into his chest.

  “I’m so tired,” I admit.

  “I know, baby, me too,” he confesses.

  My hands fist in his t-shirt when he picks me up and carries me to the bedroom. A bedroom we shared just weeks ago. He lies me down on the pillow, but doesn’t join me. Instead, he places a gentle kiss on my forehead and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Sleep,” he murmurs as he stands. When I blink, he’s gone.

  I stare at the bedroom door as I hear the front door open and close. My mind is spinning a million miles an hour. I don’t know what has just happened. His vows don’t mean anything without action.

  Can I forgive him? Can I accept him back in my heart? Can I trust him ever again?

  I don’t know the answer to any of that. But his promises of never letting me go, I’d be a liar if I didn’t think it flattering and almost sweet. However, the proof is in the pudding. I’ll be watching and waiting.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SNIPER

  I leave Brentlee alone. It takes everything inside of me not to lie next to her in bed and show her just how much I want her, only her. She isn’t ready; and frankly, neither am I. I need some time. I need to stay sober for a while and get my shit together.

  I need to work it all out in my head, get shit straight before I really dive in deep. Right now—right now I want to see Stella. I’ve abandoned her and it was a dick move; not my biggest dick move, but a dick move nonetheless.

  I pull up to Fury and Kentlee’s house, knowing this is probably exactly where the little curly blondie is at, since she wasn’t with Brent. I park my bike and walk up the front steps of the little house. Knocking, I wait.

  The door opens and a pissed off, curvy blonde stares back at me. She narrows her eyes before she steps aside and wordlessly lets me walk past her and into the living room.

  “How may I help you?” she curtly asks. I want to laugh. The Johnson girls, full of piss and vinegar when they need to be.

  “Cut the shit, LeeLee,” I say.

  “You better not come in here saying that to me, Bates Lukin,” she growls, putting her hands on her hips.

  “I messed up. I get it. I’ve sobered up and I’m fuckin’ sick over it all,” I admit.

  “Have you told my sister that?” she asks.

  “I have. I just left her. She’s not forgiving me anytime soon, as she shouldn’t. I’ll work for it. I’ll work my ass off to get her back; but what’s going on between us is between us,” I say.

  “Not when you treat her the way you did in front of me,” she says. I sigh.

  “Touché,” I chuckle.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Aside from seeing one of my favorite blonde bombshells?” I offer with a smirk. Kentlee rolls her eyes but with a smile tugging on her lips. “I came to see Stella.”

  “She misses you,” Kent says. I nod.

  “Fucked up with her mama, but fucked up with her, too,” I admit.

  Kentlee nods toward Bear’s bedroom and I turn to walk in that direction. I can hear her following me, and when I step into the doorway, I can’t hold back my smile. Stella’s sitting in front of Bear, her blonde hair in curly pigtails, and a row of motorcycles lined up in front of her.

  “Stella,” I clear my throat, unable to watch her a moment longer without giving her a hug.

  She looks like she’s grown in the few weeks I haven’t seen her. I watch as her head whips up and her blue eyes widen. Then she gives me the greatest gift of all. She smiles.

  “Bates,” she cries as she scrambles to her feet. She runs toward me, barreling into my arms at a million miles an hour. I chuckle and lift her up before I plant a kiss on her cheek.

  “I missed you,” she whispers as she takes my bearded cheeks with her tiny, little hands.

  “I missed you, too, malyshka,” I easily admit.

  “You come home now,” she demands.

  “Yes,” I say. Kentlee clears her throat.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she mutters under her breath. I prop Stella on my hip before I turn my neck to face Kent.

  “I’ll be there. I may not be sleeping where I want to be, but I’ll be there,” I say, keeping it PG.

  “Yeah?” she asks, not giving anything way, keeping her face hard.

  “Yup. Meant it when I said I was gonna work for it, babe,” I grunt.

  “Good,” she nods.

  I spend the next hour playing with Stella and Bear, spending much needed time with my little malyshka. Kentlee announces lunch for the kids, and I decide that it’s my time to leave them. Before I walk out of the door, her hand is wrapped around my forearm.

  “Treat my sister right, Bates. You both deserve happiness,” she says, grinning at me.

  “I want her to be so happy.” I admit.

  “Then work for it, prove it, and do it,” she says. I nod and leave them.

  I drive to a sandwich shop and pick up some lunch for Brent and myself before I go back to my house. When I walk inside, she’s exactly where I left her, except she’s sleeping and it takes my breath away. She looks so young, innocent, and so fuckin’ gorgeous.

  How could I ever even think about leaving her?

  I’m such a goddamn fool.

  I leave her asleep and put her food in the fridge before I head to the garage to work on my truck a little. I don’t want to wake her up, and I need something to do with my hands.

  BRENTLEE

  I hear a noise and it startles me awake. I lie in bed for a few moments and wipe the sleep from my eyes. Looking over at the bedside clock, I notice that it’s four in the afternoon. I get out of bed and wash my face, take care of business, and head out to the living area. Stella will be home soon, and I should eat a little something. My stomach growls in agreement.

  When I step into the kitchen, I chance looking out the window, and am surprised by what I see. The garage door is open, but that isn’t what surprises me.

  No, Bates, shirtless and working under the hood of his truck is what makes my mouth water. I watch as his hands work on the engine.

  Each muscle in his back moves, bunching and relaxing. I shiver. He’s so freaking big, it still surprises me, still turns me on— though, I don’t think any red blooded American woman could look at him and not be turned on.

  I grab a plastic cup from the cabinet and fill it with ice and water. Surely, he’ll want something to drink, and I want to know why he’s still here. I slip on a pair of sandals and walk out to where Bates is working.

  “I brought you water,” I say, clearing my throat.

  He lifts his head from the truck and squints into the sunlight. He has sweat and some grease on his face. I have to clench my thighs together at how freaking sexy he looks.

  “Thanks,” he sighs, setting his tools down and taking t
he cup from my hands.

  I shamelessly watch as he drinks the liquid, working it down his throat. I have to bite back a moan.

  “You’re welcome,” I mumble.

  “I bought you a sandwich, it’s in the fridge.” He lifts his chin toward the house and I look at him in surprise.

  “What are you doing here?” I blurt out. He shakes his head once, but when his eyes meet mine, I am taken aback by the depth, the longing, and the sadness I see shining in them.

  “Gonna work at getting you back, baby. I don’t have to sleep in your bed to do that, but I won’t be sleeping anywhere but this house, either,” he announces.

  “Bates…” I exhale.

  “Ain’t givin’ up, tigritsa,” he murmurs. I sigh and turn from him, stopping before I take even a step away, whispering a thanks for the lunch.

  “Thank you for the water.” He winks, and I leave him to work on his pickup outside in the warm sunshine.

  A few hours later, Kentlee is at my door with my Stella. She smiles at me knowingly, and I roll my eyes.

  “He came to see me,” she murmurs when she gives me a hug goodbye.

  “And?” I ask.

  “He said he’s going to put the work in to fix everything,” she says, almost repeating his words verbatim.

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  Kentlee leaves and I can’t help but sigh. He isn’t going to give up easily, but he’ll give up eventually. Bates has already proven through a hurdle that he’ll bail. I just need to remember that and not let my vagina or my heart take control of me.

  I’m not very good at that—at controlling myself—but for my sanity’s sake, I need to. I don’t want to watch him walk away again, and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of a drunken rampage. I’m too fucking tired for it.

  “LeeLee just leave?” Bates asks, walking through the backdoor.

  “Yeah, she was dropping off Stella,” I say with a shrug.

  “Hey, malyshka,” he offers, pinching her nose slightly.

  “Hi,” she grins before she runs off to her room.

  I expected more of a reaction from her, since it’s been weeks since she’s seen him. The look on my face must show my confusion.

 

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