by Jessica Ames
Tomorrow, we’ll arrange for her to get into some kind of rehab programme, but for today, I’m content to just have this moment with her.
Whatever happens, I’m going to help her heal from this, because I’m starting to realise that Briella is mine, and no one is taking her from me.
20
Briella
I must fall asleep, because I wake to Daimon gently shaking me awake. I peel my eyes open and I’m greeted with his handsome face. My heart stops at the sight before it gallops. I peer at him, my body reacting to being close to him. He smells so good, a mix of aftershave and the leather of his kutte. It’s a lethal mix that instantly makes me want to lean in.
Needing to break eye contact before I get too lost in him, my gaze skims around the room. It is dark other than the glow from the television. The film we were watching is finished, sitting on the load screen.
“Baby,” he kisses the side of my head, “it’s time for bed. You’re exhausted.”
I am, but if I go to bed, he’s going to leave and the thought of sleeping alone terrifies me. I can’t close my eyes and not see Sin’s face, not with everything that’s happened today. It’s like they’ve ripped off the bandage, leaving me open and vulnerable. The only time I’ve slept fully is the night Daimon stayed over. I wonder if Sasha does the same, or if lying next to Ravage night after night chases those demons from her mind. I can’t imagine anything getting past him.
“I’m not tired.” I force myself to sit up and blink away the grittiness. I am exhausted, Daimon’s right. The intervention forced me to relive things I thought I’d buried and it left me drained. I imagine the only reason I managed to fall asleep at all is because he’s here. Daimon makes all my monsters disappear, as if his presence alone makes my demons powerless. He makes my mind clear. As soon as he leaves the chaos and mayhem encroach on my thoughts again and everything becomes loud.
“You need to sleep.”
“Did Layla come home?” I ask, changing the subject as I stretch my back. I’m angling for more time to not be alone. He narrows his eyes at me, but doesn’t call me on it. I’m surprised he lets it slide. I wasn’t exactly discreet, but there’s something about Daimon. It’s like I can’t hide from him. No matter what walls I put up, no matter how much darkness I bury myself in, he sees me.
“About an hour ago. She’s in her room.” He pulls out of my hold and I feel the loss of his warmth. I want him back against my side, but he stands from the sofa and holds both his hands out to me.
I stare at them for a moment, before slipping my palms into his. He tugs me up, which puts us inches from each other. His eyes crawl over my face for a moment, drinking me in like a parched man before he sighs.
“Bed.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I won’t sleep.”
His eyes soften. “Nightmares?”
I nod. “He’s always in my dreams. That’s why—”
I break off, but as if he can read my mind, he says, “Why you drink?”
Shame crawls over my skin, embarrassment heating my cheeks. “Yeah.”
“Hey,” he tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you did shit wrong. Don’t agree with you using booze as a crutch to get through the day, but fuck me, Brie, I understand why you do. Everyone gets it.”
Tears prick my eyes and I have to blink rapidly to stop them from falling.
“I don’t know how else to deal. I don’t know how to sleep without it anymore. The only time I sleep peacefully is when you’re here.”
His brows draw together, his expression troubled as he stares at me. “Go and get ready for bed.”
“Daimon—”
“Ain’t leaving you, not after you just admitted that. I’ll stay tonight. Fuck, baby, I’ll stay every night if you want me to.”
I want to tell him yes, I want that, but instead, I thread my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. His grasp comes around me, pulling me against his muscled body and before I can stop myself, I’m taking his mouth.
Kissing Daimon is becoming my favourite habit. He kisses like a pro, working me up to fever pitch with just his mouth. After Sin, I thought I’d never be able to be with another man again, I thought he’d ruined me for life, but with Daimon, I don’t feel that. I feel as if I might be desirable again, as if I could find hope and happiness with a partner. Daimon makes me feel like I’m not tainted, like I am redeemable. He gives me hope.
His fingers snake up under my top and the feel of his rough hands against my skin causes me to pant. I have to control my raging hormones, but as he nips at my bottom lip, I feel that might be a lost cause.
“Come on, baby. Bed.”
This time, I don’t argue. I head into the bedroom. He doesn’t follow me, giving me the privacy I need to get changed into a pair of sleep shorts and a vest top. When I’m done, I move to the door and open it. He’s leaning against the wall of the hallway. His eyes widen as he takes me in, though I can see he tries to stop himself from ogling me. It should freak me out, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel wanted, beautiful, and something I never felt when Sin took my virginity by force, in control. He clamps his jaw together, bringing his gaze to my face and pushes up off it when I beckon him.
As soon as he’s in my room, I feel like all the air has been sucked out. I’m suddenly awkward as he moves around my space, taking in the knick-knacks on top of my chest of drawers, and the postcards from across the world that cover my wall near the mirror.
“You collect postcards?”
I shift on my feet, not sure if I should share my dream with him.
“Uh, yeah.”
His eyes scan the different places that are tacked to my wall. “These are places you want to visit?”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
“Why’d you put them up if you don’t want to go?”
I shift on my feet. Normally, I wouldn’t open up to anyone, but Daimon makes me want to spill all my secrets. “I started collecting when I was still living with my father. I’d imagine I was visiting somewhere else, somewhere far from that hell. It just stuck with me. Even after I was safe, I still collected them.”
Daimon growls a curse under his breath. “I hate that fucker for touching you. I hate that you’ve ever been hurt by anyone. I meant it when I said no one will ever lay a fucking finger on you again. I’ll kill anyone who puts hands on you.”
The vehemence in his voice should scare me. I know Daimon isn’t a Boy Scout. I know he’s done unspeakable things for his club, just as Levi has, but I don’t feel afraid. I feel cherished. Loved. Safe.
It’s a heady feeling.
One I never expected to feel.
After Sin’s assault, I felt nothing. I thought he had stripped away my ability to love and be loved, but I’m seeing that’s not the case because even though all I have done with Daimon is kiss him, I suspect I’m falling in love with him. My heart rate accelerates when he’s near, he makes me feel whole and unbroken, and I feel lost when he’s not around.
Is that love?
He moves away from my postcard shrine and nods to the bed. “In you get.”
Nervous energy tingles through me as I move over to bed and pull back the covers. I slip underneath them, getting comfortable.
Daimon watches me for a moment, then slips out of his kutte. He hangs it on the hook on the back of my door before he moves to the edge of the bed. I watch the strong muscles in his back bunch beneath his tee as he bends over to toe off his boots. I shouldn’t be watching him so intently, but I can’t turn away.
When he’s finished, he climbs under the covers, still fully dressed. Part of me wants to tell him to get comfy, to take it off, but something makes the words clog in my throat and I keep quiet.
He settles against the pillow, then tugs me against him. I go willingly, my arm snaking around his middle.
“Goodnight,
Daimon.”
“Night, baby.”
I sleep like the fucking dead that night, wrapped in the only arms that make me feel safe.
21
Daimon
For a week, I stay holed up with Briella, every night chasing her demons away, stopping her nightmares. Levi gets her a counsellor through a rape crisis centre, and her family doctor refers her to a rehab programme to tackle her drinking addiction. I know it’s going to take a long time for her to heal, but I feel like we’re finally on the road to recovery.
Ravage gives me a shit ton of leeway, letting me take some time away from the club to be with her, but eventually, I have to get back to work. The money won’t dole itself out. I need to balance the books and hide the illegal shit, so we don’t all end up in jail.
As I step into the common room, the afternoon sun streaking through the windows, I see Levi sitting at the bar with Whizz, our resident doctor. The pair of them look deep in conversation and when I move over to them, slipping onto an empty stool, neither of them glances at me. I catch the tail end of their conversation, which is about Briella.
“…long time to put addiction behind you. It’s a fight she’ll have to make every day for the rest of her life,” Whizz tells him.
Levi sighs. “I never wanted this shit for her.”
“All you can do is be there for her.”
“She’s doing better,” I interject, and both of their eyes swing towards me. Levi is still wearing a smattering of fading bruises to his face from when I punched him. Mine are gone already. He bristles slightly at my words.
“You need to take a step back from this shit,” Levi tells me.
I shake my head. That ain’t happening. “I’m staying put, unless Brie tells me to leave her the fuck alone.”
“She doesn’t need you fucking with her head.”
“Ain’t doing that,” I grind out between my teeth. “Keeping her happy is all I give a fuck about, Levi. Since I’ve been staying, she ain’t had a single fucking nightmare. I call that an achievement considering she was having them all the time before that.”
He can’t argue with that, but his jaw clenches anyway.
“Don’t fuck with her head.”
“You pissed off at me for being there for her?” I demand.
“Ain’t pissed off at you for shit, but she ain’t in a good place right now. She doesn’t need you taking advantage of that.”
My spine snaps straight and anger buzzes through my head. “You think that’s what I’m doing, you’re fucking nuts. I fucking love her, man.”
I jolt at my admission. I love her? Where the fuck had that come from? But as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know they’re true. I do fucking love her. Fuck.
I should feel terror at the word. I’m not the kind of man to settle down, to have an old lady, but fuck, if I don’t want that with her. She makes me feel alive, she brings out all my protective urges. She makes me want to be a better man and the best version of myself. I do love her. I think I’ve always loved her on some level.
Levi glares at me. “You love her?”
“Yeah, brother, I do.”
“You claiming her?”
“Yeah,” I say without hesitation. This feels right, like it’s supposed to be.
He stares at me for a beat, his eyes hard. “You do right by her and we won’t have a fucking problem, you feel me?”
“I’ll take care of her,” I promise. “If I bring it to the table you going to support me?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, which puts my whole body on edge. Eventually, he lets out a long huffy breath.
“Yeah, Day, I’ll support you, but you hurt my sister, I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you.”
My lip quirks at the corner. It’s as good as an approval as I’m going to get from him. It’ll do for now. I glance past him to Whizz who is watching the events unfold with a great big grin on his face.
“What?” I demand.
“Just never thought I’d see the day you fell to a woman.”
I snort. “It’ll get you one day, brother. When you least fucking expect it.”
He shakes his head, lifting his pint. “Ain’t got a single interest in a woman. They’re too complicated, brother. I’ll stick to medicine. It’s what I know.”
Before I can answer, Nox sticks his head around the door.
“Church, now,” the brother says.
Instantly, the three of us push up from our chairs and head towards the meeting room.
I drop my phone, keys and wallet in the box outside chapel and step inside behind Whizz. Rav, Nox and Fury are already seated. Titch follows in behind us. I take my chair at the table and fix my kutte as I sit. Rav waits for us all to settle before he speaks.
“Let’s get the admin out the way first,” he says.
I dig in the inside pocket of my kutte and pull out six envelopes filled with cash. I slide them across the table to each brother. Titch weighs his in his hands.
“This feels heavy this month, brother.”
It’s because our newly acquired telemarketing business is bringing in a shit ton of revenue. Who knew legal dealings could be as lucrative as the illegal shit we do?
“Enjoy it.”
He snorts. “My ex-wife takes most of my fucking money in alimony and child support.”
This is probably true, but I know he wouldn’t deny those boys a thing. He loves those kids to death. I’m pretty sure he still loves Rachel too. I know her filing for divorce shredded him.
Rav leans forwards on the table. “Howler is still having issues in Manchester. The clubhouse was attacked last night.”
A chorus of ‘fuck’ goes around the table.
“They need us to ride down?” Titch asks.
Rav shakes his head. “Howler’s handling it, but it looks like this shit is going to come to war with the gangs in the city. We’re going to have to take action, show these fuckers no one messes with our club.”
I agree with that completely. One weak link in the chain and the whole organisation could unravel. We can’t afford to lose territory there. Manchester is our gateway to the northern territories and plays a huge part in our drug running operations.
“What does he need?” I demand, itchy tension slipping between my shoulders.
“Guns. I’ve spoken to Omen in Tennessee again. They’re sending seven cases. We have another problem, though. Omen is worried there’s a fox in the hen house.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. That’s bad for the club on the whole. A rat is something no club wants. It’s a brand of treachery that ends only one way—dead. How painful that end is depends on the club. Fury would make it so they prayed for death. “Cop?”
He shakes his head. “He thinks someone is telling a rival club about runs they’re doing. Twice now they’ve been intercepted while trying to move product.”
This is seriously bad. This shit only works if there’s trust between brothers. The moment suspicion is added to the mix it can be the downfall of a club.
“Can he handle it in house?” Fury asks, speaking for the first time. His voice is like gravel, hoarse, rusty-sounding.
“Probably, but ain’t willing to risk it. Whizz is going out there at the end of the week. He’s going to stay until they root this fucking cunt out.”
Losing Whizz will be a hell of a blow to us, but I understand why he’d send him. The doc has a lot in common with the Tennessee boys. He’s former military and he’s also the only one of us with dual citizenship. His mum was American, his father a Brit. He’s lived here most of his life, but I know he has family over there. He won’t have to fuck about with Visas and whatever else. He’s the obvious person to go.
“Can we afford to lose Whizz?” Levi says what the rest of us are thinking.
“Can we afford not to weed out a rat?” Nox counters. “If this cunt is talking to another club and spilling secrets, what’s to stop him from going to the cops, the Feds, whoever else and giving up the entir
e organisation?”
It’s a good point. Disloyal bastards usually remain disloyal to the bitter end. The cops getting involved is dangerous as fuck. The Feds already tried to build a RICO case against the US chapters of the Sons in the early 2000s, but they couldn’t pin anything on us. We need to keep it that way. As the mother chapter of the entire club, we have a responsibility to keep all our brothers safe from this shit. Whizz will find out what’s going on and head home. Could Omen handle it? Probably, but I understand Rav’s caution too. He’s just got himself into a good life with Sasha and Lily-May. He’s not looking to undo that.
Losing Whizz is a hell of a blow though. We just have to hope no one gets hurt in the meantime, though we do have other contacts at the local hospital we can use.
Rav looks like he’s about to end the meeting, so I jump in before he can.
“I’m claiming Briella as my old lady.”
I slouch back in the chair and let that news settle around my brothers.
“This is what you want?” Nox asks, eyeing me carefully. The brother makes a good right-hand to Ravage. He tends to be a lot more level-headed than our President. I’ve only ever seen him lose his shit over one thing—his old lady, Lucy.
“Yeah, brother.”
Rav sighs. “She wants your ugly mug?”
I smile. “Haven’t asked her.”
“Don’t know much about women, but I figure that might be the first step,” Titch supplies with a smirk.
“I want her. That ain’t changing. She’s mine.”
“Levi, you’ve been fucking quiet throughout all this shit. You want to wade in?” Rav says, clasping his hands together on the tabletop.
Levi raises his head and lets out a long breath. “He takes care of my sister and there won’t be any problems between us. The club has already hurt her. I won’t let that happen again.”
Rav’s eyes turn lethal. We all know he’s talking about Sin, the rapist bastard who hurt two of our women. That thought twists a blade in all our guts. Knowing he died painfully at the hands of our club is our only redemption.