He hums, closing the distance between us, my cheeks still nestled in his palms, then his lips brush mine once before he speaks.
“Yeah, there is, but it’s all good, baby.”
“Is it?” I ask, unsure that I want this version of the sweet life forever.
Battles and wars, blood, death, and whatever else is coming my way. I’m not sure if I’m down with that and I realize that’s what Dragon was really asking me when he wanted to know if I wanted to stay or build another life.
Dylan lifts his head, his eyes find mine and they connect. He watches me for a moment and shakes his head once. “It’s all good, Sunny,” he says, his voice firm and unwavering. “I got you, always. There is nothing to worry about, ever.”
I know his words are meant to comfort me, but they don’t, because all I can think about is the fact that there are a hundred other clubs as bad or worse than my father’s. And eventually they’ll want to hash it out, they’ll want something that the Beasts have.
They’ll want territory, trade, something and it will start another war, then another, and finally another until there’s nothing left but bloody bodies.
“Nothing to worry about, Pammy, yeah?”
Pushing those thoughts deep down inside, I stuff them as far down and away as possible. He doesn’t need this right before he leaves and I sure as shit don’t need to think about it day in and day out, I’ll just drive myself fucking crazy.
The fact that war is always just right around the corner is the life, and I’ve chosen it. I’ve chosen to be at Dylan’s side. I could have left and I could have never slept with him. But the fact is that I stayed and I opened myself up to him. I accepted this, I practically begged for it and there is no going back now.
“Nothing to worry about, Dylan,” I say, giving him a watery smile.
“Can’t call you while I’m gone, no phone, but I’ll be home soon as I can.”
Without another word, he dips down, touches his mouth to mine then releases me as he takes a step backward. He turns around and I watch him jog toward a waiting pickup truck. Along with not having a phone, he’s also not allowed to ride his bike. He’s still very much on their short leash and honestly, it makes me feel a bit more comfortable. He’ll be safe.
“It’s going to be okay,” a voice says next to me.
I turn my head and am surprised to see Gisele standing next to me. She gives me a smile and jerks her head toward the clubhouse. “How about a drink?”
I should say no, drinking isn’t really my thing, but I really could use something right about now.
“Yeah, okay,” I say with a smile.
Chapter Twenty-Three
PAMELA
Following Gisele inside, she walks right up to the bar and hops up on a chair, so I do the same next to her.
Pinkie is behind the bar and she gives us a small smile as she makes her way near us. She’s been really quiet, kind of kept her distance from me since everything happened and we talked. I don’t know if it’s out of shame or embarrassment or what, but I decide that I can’t let her continue on feeling any kind of way around me.
“Do you have anything girlie, not so strong or beer-like tasting?” I ask, trying to sound completely normal.
She smiles and nods. “Yeah, some of the girls have those spiked sparkling water things. I’ll get you a few.”
I watch as she turns and bends down, grabbing some cans from the fridge. “Have some with us?” I ask.
Pinkie blinks, then she opens one of the cans and grins. We spend the next few hours chatting between the three of us. Whatever was bothering Pinkie, it’s gone, finally.
Gisele seems to be comfortable enough that she opens up as well. I find out why she lives out here instead of in town, she admits that she’s a recluse, she prefers to stay home and Coyote wanted to make sure he was close, so they built a place here.
“What about the other houses?” I ask.
“Oh, Trista built here too mainly because the club has always been her home. Her father is a member, and all these men are her uncles. Taz does whatever needs to be done to make her happy, plus it’s easier for him to live out here too. Hawk and Avah have the other house and Avah and Trista are best friends, so where one is, the other is usually close behind,” Pinkie explains.
“I don’t know what that’s like,” I say and curse myself for actually saying that out loud.
“Know what?” Gisele asks.
Shrugging a shoulder, I look between Pinkie and Gisele. “Friends,” I admit. “I’ve never had any.”
Pinkie snorts, and Gisele just watches me for a long moment. “That’s silly,” Gisele announces.
“You have us, and all the Old Ladies. They’re itching to get the info about you and Jag. They’ll be here soon, without a doubt, now that he’s gone and they can get you alone,” Pinkie says.
“What?” I practically shriek.
Gisele giggles. “They will, just wait. When Presley gets ahold of you, you’re toast, girl. She should have worked for the FBI.”
“You’re one of the gang now, honey. I’m only part of it because I’ve been here since before anyone arrived and I know my place. I don’t start drama and I’m not here to try and steal any man from anyone.”
“You’re also just plain nice,” Gisele says.
“You really are,” I agree.
Before Pinkie can say a word or deny our compliments, the door swings open, letting in the light from outside, and just like they said, a whole group of women walk in together. If the men thought they were terrifying, they’re kittens compared to their Old Ladies.
The women aren’t scary looking, they’re all extremely gorgeous and dressed in varying styles, but they intimidate the hell out of me and probably would any other woman on the planet.
“Pinkie,” Della shouts. “Shots for some of us, water for the others.”
“Water?” Pinkie asks.
“Pregnancies in abundance. I think it’s in the water,” Presley calls out.
I blanch at her words, then look down to my spiked sparkling water and wonder if I should switch to regular water. I honestly can’t remember the last time that I had a period. I mean, Dylan and I have only been together for a few weeks, but I don’t know how long it takes.
Leaning closer to Gisele, I whisper. “How long does it take until you know you’re pregnant?”
She gasps. “You’re not, are you?”
I shrug a shoulder and I know my face turns red when I feel it heat. “We’ve only been together a few weeks.”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “I’m not a doctor, but I think maybe you should take a test soon?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I was kind of afraid of that.”
Before I can ask any more questions, I’m surrounded by the other Old Ladies. Gisele, Pinkie, and I are ushered to tables that have been pushed together and chairs that surround them. I settle in and get ready to be grilled.
They don’t start right away, but it’s clear they’re curious. I don’t blame them. They’re curious about Dylan and from what I’ve heard, he’s been not only a loose cannon but a mystery as well.
I don’t hold anything back. There’s no reason to. Dylan told me that these women are his family and I want them to be mine as well. This is all that I have.
JAGUAR
I shouldn’t give a fuck about leaving Pamela at the clubhouse. She’s safe and she’s mine. That is all that should matter. It doesn’t though. I know she’s safe, but I can’t help but ultimately think that she needs me there to protect her. I’ll probably never not think that, especially when it comes to my Sunny.
“You’re thinkin’ hard over there,” Silver announces.
He’s healed from his gunshot wound, but it’s clear that he’s still hurting from it too. Probably the reason he drove a cage instead of taking his bike. I stare out the front window, watching the desert in front of me.
“Yeah, I am,” I admit.
“Care to talk to me
about it?”
I think about that. Silver is the treasurer of the club. We were tight. I used to be the secretary. We were part of the inner circle, officers together, until I fucked it all up. Fucked everything up. It seems to be what I do, another thing that’s been bothering me, what if I fuck up with Pamela?
“Not really,” I lie.
He snorts, shifting his gaze from my profile to the front windshield and back to the road again. We’re silent for a long moment, too long, so long that it grows into an uncomfortable silence.
“Hombre,” he murmurs. “You ain’t good.”
There’s that word again.
Brother.
With a heavy sigh, I decide to tell him what I’m thinking, at least part of it anyway. “It’s bothering me, but I got zero fucking right to let it…” I begin.
Shaking my head, I wonder if I should continue. I don’t want sympathy, not just because I don’t deserve it, but also because I’ve never desired pity, from anyone. Silver clears his throat, and I know he wants me to finish my thought, he’s waiting to hear what I have to say next.
“Pamela,” I continue. “She won’t ever have the protection she deserves from the club or the brand accompanied with the title of Old Lady.”
He doesn’t say anything right away and I wonder if he heard me. A few moments later I hear him chuckle and I watch him, wondering what the hell he finds so damn funny.
“You seriously think that Jailbait won’t be protected? After she’s been nothing but cooperative, after she’s been at the club and not caused an ounce of drama. She’s done nothing but pull her weight and help Pinkie out. She’s a Beast as far as I’m concerned.”
“But she’s not and she won’t be.”
He doesn’t say anything else for a while, then finally he clears his throat. “You think you won’t be asked back into the fold?” he says, his voice low.
“I know I won’t be and I’m cool with that. Being a prospect is enough for me. I betrayed everything that I’ve ever loved and fought for. I don’t expect shit, but I am worried about Pamela.”
We drive in silence until we get to the first gas station. Silver jumps out and I do the same. Without being told or even being asked, I walk over to the gas pump and start to fill up the truck, well, I start to then realize that I don’t have any money—none. I don’t have a credit card or anything either.
It hits me.
It slams into me.
I don’t have any money. How am I going to take care of Pamela? How are we going to move out of the clubhouse? How am I going to take care of the kid I most likely created in the last few weeks?
Fuck.
“Jag?”
Silver’s voice breaks through and I turn to him, but I don’t see him. I don’t see anything. It’s a vast sea of nothingness. Nothing but debt, but poverty, but utter disappointment. This is not how I am going to protect Pamela. Not in the fucking slightest.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
I feel his fingers wrap around my shoulder and he gives me a hard jerk. Turning my head, I look over in his direction and he slowly comes into view. He looks concerned, his brows are furrowed, but I can’t think about anything but my dry mouth.
“Jaguar?” he snaps.
“I’m fucking broke,” I say.
He frowns, his finger digging into my shoulder harder. He doesn’t say anything right away, but he clears his throat, then pulls me against him. He hugs me. His fist banging on the center of my back.
“It’s gonna be okay, hombre,” he murmurs. “It’ll work out.”
He releases me, and I take a step back, feeling like the biggest pussy on earth. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair and tug on the strands. I look to the side, then back to him and try not to cry and completely embarrass myself.
“How can I be? I’ll be a prospect for the rest of my fucking life. Got a woman, and won’t be able to provide for her. I didn’t think about that when I was fuckin’ her bare, didn’t think about that when I told her she was mine. I did what I always fucking do, and I selfishly took what wasn’t mine to take.”
“Jaguar,” he says, his voice a deep rumble.
I don’t wait for him to say anything, to try to reassure me. There’s nothing he could say that will change this. Not a damn fucking thing. I fucked up yet again. Turning from him, I walk away. I don’t go far, knowing that there are a dozen men with their eyes focused on me, waiting to take me down if I make one wrong move.
I just need to breathe.
I just need to try and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do.
Run.
That’s the only thing that plays on a repeated loop in my head. Run. Let Pamela be free, let her live a good life without the burden of me as her man. Run. Let my brothers breathe easy knowing they don’t have a coward, a Judas beneath their roof.
Fucking run.
Chapter Twenty-Four
JAGUAR
“Never took you for the kind of pussy I was,” a deep voice calls out from behind me.
It’s Hawk. I would recognize his voice almost anywhere. In the woods all those weeks ago, his voice was a kind of comfort that I didn’t know I needed. I made sure his daughter got free, knowing that Trista would have been hurt beyond repair had she stayed. I would never let anything happen to her, I watched her grow up, I love her.
“I’m not,” I lie.
He snorts. “Yeah, I think you are. Just in your own way.”
I think about his words and he’s not wrong. I am just that. I’m a gigantic fucking pussy. I’m not sure if I’m even ashamed of the fact that I am exactly what he says I am. I can’t deny it, what’s the fucking point in trying?
“I ain’t running, but I want to,” I admit.
“Why?” he asks.
Without turning around, I let out a heavy breath. “Because I’m a selfish fuck.”
“Yeah?” A voice chuckles. “We all are.”
Spinning around, I see Dragon, Mountain, Silver, and Wolfe standing with Hawk. They’re all watching me, staring at me, waiting for me to do something. They’re waiting for me to run. They’re waiting for me to fuck up so that they can put me down like the no-good dog I am.
“We’re all selfish, Jag. What makes you think we ain’t?” Dragon asks.
“You claim a woman that you can’t make your Old Lady? You fuck her bare in hopes she’ll get pregnant and realize you can’t even provide her a fucking home to live in? You do all that shit knowing that the Beasts, when it comes down to it, can’t truly protect her? All because you wanted some pussy?”
“If that’s what you’re doing with her, you need to stay gone, don’t go back,” Mountain growls.
I blink, my eyes widening and I jerk my chin toward him, because the fucker of it all, is that he’s not wrong. I do need to stay gone. I need to fucking run far and fast. Even if she has my baby, like Della, she’ll find someone better for her than me.
“It’s not,” I admit.
I can let them think a lot of shit about me, but for some reason I can’t let them think that all I wanted Pamela for was her cunt. I don’t want her to look bad. If I let them think that, maybe they’ll look at her differently, and I just can’t let that happen.
“But it doesn’t matter either. I can’t provide for her, and I fucked her over by acting like I could. I’m a selfish fuck.”
“You think you can’t provide for her? Think it matters to her?” Dragon asks.
My body jerks and I try not to be a smart-ass, but it’s really fucking hard not to be. “I know I can’t. I’m fucking broke. Got no income, no future income. No place to live. I don’t have shit and I’ll never have it, brother, and you know that.”
“Just fucking tell him,” Mountain snaps. “He’s fucking pathetic looking.”
Nobody says anything right away. They all watch me as if I’m a caged animal in a zoo. I grind my teeth together, gnashing them as I wait for whatever it is they’re about to tell me. They watch me in silence. Still, n
obody says a fucking word, and I’m at the breaking point of losing my shit when Dragon clears his throat.
“Eagle came to us. Says he wanted to put it to a vote after we get back,” he begins. “There’s more, but I don’t think you’re ready for it.”
Fuck.
This is it, this is when I get kicked out completely. I lick my lips, wondering if I can handle it, if I can find work outside of the club. I’m almost forty years old and I’ve never worked an actual job my entire life. The club is all I’ve ever known.
I don’t know if I can survive in society.
If I fail it’s not just me I’m failing, it’s Pammy too.
“Nobody’s ready to make you a full-fledged voting member yet. It hasn’t been long enough,” he says. My chest puffs up and I hold my breath as he continues. “However, like to sit down, iron out some details. See about getting you paid, about giving you some more responsibilities. Can’t come to church anytime soon, can’t do much, but everyone is in agreement that you’re trying.”
“I am,” I say.
Nodding my head, I clear my throat, then look between the men watching me. They’re waiting for my response and I have a feeling they think it’s going to be huge, but that’s just not me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I inhale a deep breath before I let it out.
“I’m trying. I want to claim Pamela, I want to brand her, if you’ll let me. I want to give her the life that she deserves. I want my family back.”
Admitting the last few words aloud is hard. I’ve never actually said that before, told them that they’re my family, but they are. These men are exactly that. Family. And I took them for granted, I also took the club for granted.
I’ve fucked up just about every way possible a man could fuck up and because these men are my family, they’ve been able to give me another shot.
A shot that I don’t deserve.
“You’ll get it, Jag. If it’s what you want and you prove it to us, you’ll get it,” Dragon assures me.
Shaking my head, I lift my hand and run my fingers through my hair. “What do I do now? How do I take care of her?” Call it hyper focus, call it panic, call it whatever the fuck you want to call it, I need to know that I can take care of my woman.
UnCage me (Savage Beast MC Book 8) Page 18