Dreamer

by Addy Archer

  That asshole, Bruno, is monitoring her every move. To me it sounds like she went from one prison to another. She swears it isn’t like that but saying it through a text on a phone that’s monitored by said captor . . . I’m not so sure it’s the truth. Like I said; I need to see her with my own eyes.

  Dreamer strolls into the bedroom. “Have you placed the order for those plants and shit you were talking about yesterday?”

  I blink a few times to focus on what he’s talking about instead of my rambling thoughts. “Yes. I did. I received a reply this morning. Delivery is scheduled for next Thursday.”

  I might have mentioned being trapped in this house, but the first few days I’ve spent roaming around the house and letting my mind wonder about the many options I had to turn the massive surroundings of the house into something beautiful. Another few days passed with landscaping dreams and turning them into actual plans I could work with. Leaving me more days to actually order everything and get things set.

  Hands and mind busy and yet not distracted enough not to worry about Nario, the danger he brings into all our lives, and my concerns about Winter. And today might be the day everything will be addressed. Hence the whole stressed the freaking hell out.

  “Good.” His phone beeps and he checks it before he says, “Limo just drove up. They’re early.”

  I spin on my heels and head downstairs. I’m waiting nervously in the hall, knowing I can’t go out since I have to wait for them to clear any visitors. It might sound drastic but ever since the clubhouse was hit they have formed a line of security that not only consists of technology but also a team of men who patrol around the clock.

  I don’t like to think about it too much, even more when most of the bikers are staying at a hotel and no extra security matters have been taken for them. When I walked into the kitchen a few weeks ago, Jace was talking to Ram and I heard Ram say “he wants her, no matter what lengths he has to go through.”

  When I entered the kitchen they both fell silent. I’ve asked them, and Dreamer, but all their lips are tight. So much for having me in the loop of things. But it doesn’t take a high IQ to figure out they were talking about Nario and how he wants me. Why else am I the only one not allowed to leave this house or go outside to work on the garden without a massive escort? Right.

  The door opens and two bikers step inside followed by a man in a high-class suit. He’s mid-thirties, dark brown hair, and beaming class. But his eyes are hard and there’s a dominating vibe coming from him, like warning bells to indicate not to mess with him.

  Behind Bruno my friend appears who is dressed in a tight, deep blue skirt with a white turtleneck top. The high heels she’s wearing make me envy her since I was never able to walk in heels that high but she strolls toward me as if she’s wearing flip flops.

  Her arms go around me and I do the same. Hugging her tight I croak, “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

  And she looks good. Her skin isn’t as ashen as the last time I saw her; she finally has some color. And when I pull away to look at her, I’m happy to see her blue eyes twinkle.

  “Come on, we have a lot to talk about,” I gush and start to pull her toward the kitchen.

  “Winter,” Bruno rumbles, authority making her name sound like a harsh snap.

  Winter scowls and stomps to Bruno, leaning in to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. His hand barely touches her back when he leans in next to her ear to murmur something while his eyes are pinning me with a harsh stare. She strolls back to me, links her arm through mine as we head for the kitchen.

  “I don’t know how you can manage those high heels. You can stomp, glide, and make it seem effortless. How? I’d break either my neck or my damn ankles.”

  “My aunt, remember? She had a closet filled with high heels and even before my parents died and I came to live with her, I used to grab a pair along with one of her silky dresses and pretend I was a princess. Practice makes perfect, right?” She gives me a rueful smile.

  There’s a guard leaning against the wall and it’s clear he’s there to keep an eye on Winter.

  “Is this really necessary?” I scowl but the guard doesn’t say or so much as acknowledge me.

  “Ignore him. I do.” Winter shrugs. “How are you doing? You look amazing.”

  She throws her arms around me again to pull me in a hug.

  “I was so worried about you,” I croak. “I still worry.”

  “Please don’t, I’m fine.” She pulls away and stalks to the refrigerator.

  We glance inside and decide to go with a bottle of water. She opens hers and takes a few sips before she places the cap back on.

  “Bruno offered me a deal and I took it.”

  My eyes widen at her admittance. “What kind of deal?” I whisper hiss and glance at the guard.

  Winter takes a seat at the kitchen table and places the bottle of water in front of her. “Five years of marriage and a son.”

  “Excuse me? A son? What if you can’t get pregnant or only pop out girls? Then you’re in it for life or do you need to shove them back until one comes out a boy? Are you hearing yourself right now? It’s insane!” I’m still whisper hissing while I freak out and I can’t imagine how she’s staying calm in all of this.

  A sigh rips from her and she gives me a tiny warm smile. “Remember what my dream was?”

  I bite my bottom lip and think back to the discussions we had when we were each chained to a side of a wall in Mrs. Long’s house.

  “Painting. Have someone sell your paintings all over the world while you can lock yourself up in a studio to do nothing more than paint all day, every day.”

  “That would be his part of the deal.”

  “Oh, come on, Winter,” I cringe. “He probably shoves the things you paint in a room and doesn’t do anything else since he’s loaded and can easily transfer money without selling or so much as lifting one damn finger.”

  Her face falls but she quickly masks her features and simply shrugs. “I have food in my belly, a roof over my head, I’m not cold or have to sleep in the rain and worry if someone is going to rape or rob me. I’d say it’s a whole lot better than what I had before I was taken and living on the streets and then chained, drugged, and sold.”

  The both of us stare at each other, knowing there’s truth to her words since she was homeless when she lost the house after her aunt died and left her with a huge debt from medical bills.

  “So.” I clear my throat. “Marriage?”

  She blushes and glances at the bottle of water she’s holding in her hands. Her voice lowers to a mere whisper when she says, “I’m still a virgin. He won’t touch me until our wedding night.”

  Now my eyes are almost falling out of my head. “Are you serious?” I squeak. Holy hell, I didn’t see that one coming. I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Are you telling me that man, who I’ve heard is ruthless and dominating, hasn’t touched you? At. All? How?”

  “We have a deal,” she whispers again. “But it’s frustrating since he kisses me. Like, really kisses me, you know? The toe-curling kind where he grabs my hair to keep my head in place or guides me how he wants to while he ravishes my mouth. He flames me up inside and yet he does nothing. It’s frustrating and I want to grab his balls and twist them, or rip them off and feed them to him to see how he likes it when someone is torturing you and not finishing what you started.”

  I can’t help it. My head tips back and I start to laugh uncontrollably. When I’ve finally calmed down I find Winter scowling at me.

  “Oh, come on, you have to admit it’s funny. I’m betting he’s more sexually frustrated than you are. It sounds like he’s doing the honorable thing if he’s offering you the whole marriage deal. Did you not read any romance books? And with that I specifically mean the mafia romance ones with the arranged marriage tropes?”

  Winter is still scowling at me. “Any of those have cheating in them? Because that would deflate his blue balls. I’m sure he’s toying with me
since I’ve found a diary that belonged to his wife. And the things she wrote before she died aren’t exactly roses and sunshine.”

  “I’m sorry,” is all I can manage and we both fall silent.

  Minutes pass before Winter asks, “How about you? Read any biker romance books and lived the reality of it?”

  Her words tumble through my head and though with everything that happened, I have no other answer but to tell her, “Yes. But it’s ripping me apart with the amount of casualties and loss. Dreamer might have saved me the day Mrs. Long made me drive to their clubhouse, but I’ve also brought death and destruction to their doorstep.”

  “You’re still alive and breathing, Coral. And for that I’m thankful. And for the fact that Mrs. Long bitch can’t drive and had to make you drive her. It allowed you the chance to reach out and be saved. God, I hate the bitch, and her asshole son.”

  “She’s dead. Keith and Tito too.”

  Her eyes widen before relief washes over her face. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m positive. Dreamer told me about the bitch and I might have had a hand in making sure Tito stopped breathing.”

  “Holy shit. I would have liked to be a fly on the wall when that took place.” She reaches out and covers my hand with hers. “Are you okay? Because I don’t think you’re talking about casualties and loss when you refer to Mrs. Long or Tito.”

  Pain stabs through my chest. “The excessive violence Nario goes to is insane. They’ve killed a few of the MC who put their necks out to save me. Even the president ended up in the hospital because they partly blew up the clubhouse. All because of me.” I hold up my hand when I can see anger flaring in her eyes. “I know, I know. It wasn’t me who got them killed or hurt . . . it’s just that. Hell, I don’t know, I just want all of this to be over. Dreamer and I, we never would have met if it wasn’t for the shit we ended up in. And now we have to muddle through, hope to stay alive long enough for this to end so we can finally start a future together.”

  Her eyes go misty. “I’m happy for you,” she croaks, emotion filling her voice.

  “I’m too scared to be happy,” I whisper on a deep sigh.

  She squeezes my hand. “Remember what we promised the first night we woke up in that hellhole?”

  “Survive. Live. No regrets,” I recite without thinking.

  “Right. And that doesn’t limit to taking one breath after another or eating all the chocolate without worrying if your ass will get fat next week. It involves following your heart, trusting your gut, and tasting the freedom you deserve. Even if we have to make deals or suffer through anything life throws at us. Head high, pride polished, and balls to the wall.”

  My throat clogs up and my eyes spill over with tears. She’s right and talking about the both of us. We end up in each other’s arms, tears falling freely.

  “What the fuck is going on? Why are you crying?” An angry growl rumbles through the kitchen before Winter is roughly yanked from my arms.

  I blink furiously and wipe the tears from my cheeks to find Bruno plastering Winter against him and putting himself in between us as if I’m a huge threat to her.

  “It’s okay,” Winter says in a soothing tone, her hand sliding over Bruno’s chest. “I’m okay. We were just talking.”

  Bruno’s cold, hard eyes are pinning me in place. I’m about to back away but strong arms wrap around me and Dreamer’s voice flows over my head when he says, “My old lady isn’t a fucking threat. She was the one who insisted we save Winter. She’s the reason we contacted you to head for that auction to get your woman. So, treat her with the respect she deserves.”

  Some of the cold, hard look shifts in Bruno’s eyes, though he doesn’t sound respectful when he says, “I’ll arrange the meeting. There won’t be any more reason for contact after this is handled. We’re leaving.”

  Winter is about to say something but I notice Bruno’s hand tightening on her hip. I’m about to say something but Winter gives a hard shake of her head and touches her temple briefly as if to say I need to remember; survive, live, no regrets. We exchange smiles just before Bruno guides her out of the house.

  The moment I hear the front door fall shut I snap, “What a fucking asshole.”

  “But he’s an asshole who is going to arrange a meeting with Nario,” Jace says, making my eyes widen.

  “For real?” I gasp.

  “Yes,” Dreamer says as he takes a seat.

  Stone sits down on a chair while Ram takes his crutches. More men fill the kitchen table.

  “Nario lost a lot of men when he attacked us and has used up almost all his resources. He has reached out to several people to ask for new resources without any luck. There aren’t many who want to give a helping hand to a fugitive seeing the US marshals are hot on his tail and have now put him high on the most wanted list,” Stone says and rubs his jaw. “Bruno agreed to a meeting and we just talked things through with his contact at the US marshal who is running the task force. But there’s one thing we need or this whole meeting won’t take place at all.”

  My heart is beating against my rib cage. Why are they spilling all this information? And why are all their eyes set on me?

  Oh. Shit.

  I swallow hard and blurt the one thing blinking in my head in bold neon letters because it’s the only explanation as to why they would tell me all of this. “I need to be part of the meeting?”

  Stone gives me a slight nod. “It’s why he contacted Bruno. He knows Bruno is powerful enough to shift heaven and earth to get you. And Nario thought he had something Bruno desperately wanted so he could force him into doing this.”

  “What could he possibly have to force Bruno’s hand?” I wonder out loud.

  “His late wife’s killer,” Ram easily supplies. “The man has a bad track record when it comes to women, seeing one of his mistresses also tried to kill him so he was forced to kill her.”

  “What the fuck, Ram?” Stone growls. “The man walked out with her friend as his future wife and you have to spill that shit? Think before you puke out words, asshole.”

  I force myself to take one breath after another. Somehow with what Ram just mentioned about Bruno’s reaction makes twisted sense with the contract and bursting in here to shield her from me when he found Winter crying in my arms while he left her smiling and strong before she entered the kitchen. If he’s indeed had a bad track record when it comes to women it would make sense to protect the one he just tied to him. Right?

  Another deep breath fuels my body. Survive. Live. No regrets, I recite.

  I meet Stone’s eyes and state the only thing necessary to move forward in an effort to end this and then, if possible, focus on Winter. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to the meeting.”

  C H A P T E R E L E V E N

  – DREAMER –

  “We should use a fucking blow up doll or ask the US marshals to deliver someone who looks like Coral. And why the hell are they agreeing to put a woman in danger who has all ready gone through so much and has zero skills in killing or self-defense for that matter,” I growl, anger surging through me as I stare at my president.

  “Need I remind you of the fact that she interrupted your torture session and killed Tito?” Jace sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Look, all of us damn well know this isn’t ideal. But with Nario reaching out to Bruno, it gave us a one in a million shot.”

  “Putting my old lady at risk is not my idea of a one in a million shot. She is a one in a million shot, but she’s my fucking one in a million shot.”

  “Don’t you think we know that? We all have old ladies, Dreamer,” Jace snaps. “Neither of us want to put them at risk but all of their lives are hanging in the balance right now and so is yours. Need I remind you of the funerals we had these past few weeks? Or the fact your president is still recovering? But we’re going up river without a fucking paddle here.”

  “You’d do best to stop fucking talking before you call my old lady a damn paddle,” I growl in warning.
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  “Cut it out you two,” Stone bellows harsh, making all eyes land on him. “Coral agreed. She knows damn well what the risks are but there is no other way. And don’t forget we have two MCs in place, Bruno sent men and supplied weapons, US marshals are spread out all over the fucking place and all of this should give you some sanity in that cloudy head of yours long enough to see this through so we can end this.”

  He leans forward, looks me dead in the eye and says, “And if you can’t, I will have no other choice but to make you stay here.”

  Like fuck you will, is the first thought flowing through my head. But the way my president is eying me is a solid promise he will make good on his word because he will always do what’s best for everyone. And he’s right. My head is clouded.

  “Are we doing this?” Stone pierces me with his stare, demanding an honest answer.

  I curl my hands into fists and push past my anger, fear, and the load of protectiveness screaming at me to keep my old lady safe and far away from this shit.

  “We are.” Two words and our fate is sealed.

  Stalking out of my large office space, that’s basically being used as church these past few weeks, I head for the kitchen where the old ladies are huddled around the table. All of them are wearing the same concerned look. Seeing all were present when shit went down at the clubhouse, we’ve all kept them in the loop of what’s about to go down.

  Coral stands and sways her hips as she strolls toward me.

  “Fucking hell, you’re so damn beautiful,” I murmur when I’ve pulled her flush against my body.

  A sweet giggle flows over her lips followed by the words, “You’re just throwing compliments around because we’re heading into a life or death situation.”

  A string of curses leave my mouth but I fall silent when she nuzzles my neck and whispers beside my ear, “You’re the one who brings out the beauty inside me, since you made me feel beautiful and worthy the second you gave me your heart.”