“I didn’t stutter, boy. Remove the cut. You are not SixGuns material. This life is not for you.”
Tears filled the kid’s eyes, though Romeo couldn’t tell if it was from the pain of the fist that pommeled his ass, or if it was the humiliation of failing at being a prospect. The boy did as asked, and handed the cut over to Colt.
“Escort him off the premises.” Romeo looked to Hawkeye, then focused on everyone else. “We meet tomorrow night at six. Be here, ready to rumble. Wear black, no cuts. Dismissed.”
Romeo arose from his chair and glanced at his watch. He’d been gone for over two hours. He needed to get home to make sure she was alright.
Christ, was he always going to worry like this?
THORNE HAD BEEN LEFT to stew over everything that Dalton had told her about the club. She had even dreamt about the club because she fell asleep thinking about the club.
Fucking. Redundant.
Throughout the night shift, she debated on asking Saber a butt-ton of questions, but she felt like she was betraying some sacred oath of secrecy to Dalton if she did. There were so many questions left unanswered, and well, curiosity killed the cat.
She needed some satisfaction.
Home by seven in the morning, she slept until twelve, got up, worked out, then cooked a late lunch slash early dinner for them both. She had no clue where he was, but knew he wouldn’t be too far with his tracking device.
A meal of carne asada tacos, Spanish rice, and a fiesta mix of vegetables, and it was good to go. How long had it been since she actually used her kitchen? Since before the accident. After that, she let herself live off shakes and protein bars. Why bother cooking for just one? Plus, since Stella left her meals, she hadn’t really bothered.
“Wow!” Dalton’s deep voice rose behind her.
She wasn’t sure what it was about his tone, but something about his voice sent a thrill down her spine. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled at him as he stood in the doorway. “Wow, what?”
“You do know what a kitchen is really used for.” His voice was laced with disdain. “Nice knowing it’s so easy for you to lie to me.”
“Har har smart ass.” Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention back to chopping up jalapenos for the pico de gallo. “I didn’t lie. I never said I didn’t know how to cook.”
“Better to be a smart ass than a dumb ass.” Quick with the retort, he moved over to the sink and turned on the water to wash his hands. “No, I guess you didn’t. But you still played me. That I won’t forget. Want help?”
“Mmm.” She glanced over to the cilantro. “Will you finely chop the cilantro for me?”
“I can do that.”
She moved over to give him some counter space and share the wooden chopping board. “This was my mother’s recipe, but I haven’t made it in a while. I am hoping it came out right.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. My mom says I’m a walking garbage disposal, I’ll eat anything.”
Thorne chuckled and watched him from out of the corner of her eye, as not to cut herself while she was checking him out. “Saber is the same way, so it must run in the family.”
“Yeah, Dally is the same way.” Dalton snorted and grinned. “Shit, when he was just five, Mom about killed me and Johnny. We gave Dally his first Habanero. She blew a damn gasket. Actually chased Johnny around the house with a wooden spoon. Funniest damn thing you ever saw.”
Sad as it was, she could totally see Saber doing that. “What about Dallas?”
“He was fine, asked for another one. The kid has no taste buds for anything spicy. You give it to him and he can eat it like candy. Damnedest thing I ever saw.”
Thorne scooped up the peppers and dropped them in the bowl that had the chopped onions in it. “What was it like growing up with Saber and your mom? You guys never talk about your dad. Why?”
Dalton was silent for a moment, seeming to focus directly on the knife and cilantro. Thorne wondered if she had hit a sore subject. She certainly didn’t mean to. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
His sandy blond head shook, the endless depths of blue eyes met her own. “It’s not that. No one has ever really asked or given a shit about my childhood or my family.”
“I’m not her.”
“I know.” He scooped up the green leaves with the edge of the knife and placed them in the bowl as well. “Saber is obviously older. We’ve always been close. I was the younger brother who always wanted to do stuff like his brother. I played football, was good enough to get a full ride to college. Went to Cal Poly.” Dalton set the knife down and shrugged. “There’s really not much to tell. I’m not from an abusive family; I had it pretty good growing up. We weren’t poor, but we weren’t rich either. My dad was killed in the line of duty during the first part of Operation Freedom. Mom was well taken care of by the military. She bought The Chipped Cup with it and has been happy and loves taking care of Dallas and us boys when we let her.”
“I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Don’t be, please. I’m proud to have called him my father. He was an amazing dad and soldier and an even more amazing husband to my mother. The guys out at Vandenberg still talk about him to this day.”
“It’s rare hearing about someone not coming from some dysfunctional family of some sort. I mean, look at mine.” Thorne retorted sarcastically.
Dalton turned to face her, and she avoided his eyes as much as she could. Especially when he crossed his arms over his chest. She knew she was in trouble then.
“What?” She finally looked up and into the now storming oceanic hues.
“You were loved by your parents, by your family and by Maggie. You got the shit end of the stick, but seriously? Don’t shit on your family because you are upset with yourself subconsciously. Maggie loved you with every fiber of her being. She did her best to act as your sister and mother when you needed her.”
Thorne felt as if he slapped her. He may as well have. What he said was the truth, and she knew it to her very core. She just had to accept it and admit that she had been projecting her anger onto her dead family instead of taking hold of her life by the balls and showing it who the real bitch was.
Not saying anything, she placed all the food to the table, including the cheese and sour cream, avoiding looking at him at all costs.
“Quit ignoring it, Thorne. You are one of the strongest women I know. You have been through so many versions of hell and came out on top. I don’t know what more you could ask for. And if you say an unscarred face, I swear I’m going to slap the shit out of you.”
Thorne looked up surprised at him, brows shot up. “Excuse you?”
“Well, not really, but we’ve talked this into the ground. Enough already. How many times does a guy have to show you that you turn him on before you realize you’re beautiful? Do I need to whip it out and show you every time I get hard when I see the way you secretly try and not look at me, but can’t help yourself? Do I need to tell you that I think of you in the shower to the point I have to take care of myself because I really don’t want a set of blue balls? Or how about how it turns me on that you stand up to Gabby and tell her that I belong to you and to back the fuck off?”
Thorne felt the blush heating her cheeks as she sat down at the table, unable to focus on what was in front of her. No one had ever spoken to her like this, and oddly enough, it turned her on.
“It’s okay to be excited about the thought of me wanting you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but you have been taboo because you were my brother’s partner. I don’t care anymore. I want to show you that being with me isn’t what it was like for Maggie. How the club is family and how much they already love you and accept you in as their own.”
Thorne cleared her throat and looked up at him, since he hadn’t sat down yet. “Okay.”
Both brows shot up, his head slightly cocked to the side and forward. “All I get is just an okay?”
“This is sort of new territory for me
, Dalton. I mean, I’m a medic. I save lives. You live the life of an outlaw. There’s a chance one day that you’ll take a life. You guys deal in illegal things. How’s that look on me?” Thorne leaned back throwing her hands up. “I’m being selfish and I know it. I’m just,” she paused and searched for the right word. “Scared. If I get involved or attached to you and something happens, I’m going to get left again. I can’t take another death.”
Dalton walked over to her and knelt down so he was looking up at her, taking both of her hands in his. “Yes, we do some illegal things. I will try and never involve you, but accidents happen. I can’t promise to always shield you from it, but I’ll damn sure try my best to. As for me?” He shrugged and grinned that lopsided dimpled grin that she loved. “I am not going to let anything happen. I’m Superman, didn’t you know?”
Thorne laughed and gave his hand a squeeze. “Can we just take it a day at a time and see where it goes? I have a lot to learn about the club and some of it, I’m just not sure I’m okay with, but that could be because I don’t understand it.”
Dalton rose back up and moved over to his seat to sit down. “Ask away. But please do it while we eat, I’m starved, this looks amazing and it’s about to get cold.”
“Okay.” Thorne gave a nod as she plucked up a tortilla and started to dish out the meat. “I don’t want you to get mad at my questions, and if you don’t want to answer them, I’ll understand.”
Dalton nodded, his hand motioned to her like a wheel, telling her to keep going.
“Well…” Thorne sighed, her shoulders dropped a little. “You said that women are valuable to men. I don’t see it. I have seen the women who, well, basically sleep with any man who wants them. I saw how Diablo treated my sister. How is that holding women sacred, or protecting them, by allowing them to subject themselves to be beaten?”
Dalton followed her motions, creating a couple of tacos, then dishing out the rice and veggies. “First off, you need to quit stereotyping all the club brothers like they are Diablo. If another man ends up beating someone you know, are all men abusive? No.” He took a bite of the taco and rolled his eyes. “Now this, this is fucking amazing.”
Thorne grinned; her fork pushed some rice around her plate as if she were stalling. Dalton was right about placing all men in Diablo’s shadow. But in her favor, that was all she knew. Maggie never let her in long enough to see what the world was like.
“Has Saber ever gotten mad at you? When he has, has he ever laid a hand on you or ever showed any sort of violence toward you?”
“No, he hasn’t.” She glanced up at him, the corner of her bottom lip rolled between her teeth.
“Then stop. It’s not fair to think that my brothers are just like Diablo. Hell, look at Colt and Amy. They are madly in love. Colt would never dream of hurting her. And as for the Painted Ladies? They keep the men calm. They’re there for comfort when the men need it. Most of the married men don’t mess with the PLs. I’m not going to lie and say that some don’t, because they do. But if their ol’ lady is around? No way. And if one of the ol’ ladies thinks that one of the Ladies is getting out of line with her man? She has every right to step in and handle it. They are very well taken care of and want for nothing. There are a couple of them who push the boundaries. They are straight up looking for a patch holder to scoop them up and ride off with them into the sunset. I’ve seen it happen. So don’t hate.”
Thorne laughed and shook her head. “I just can’t see putting myself out there like that.”
“Some of these girls come from broken homes, abusive families; runaways—the SixGunss have protected them.” Dalton got up and went to the fridge to grab them a drink. He set a bottle of water in front of her then sat back down. “As for the ol’ ladies? Yes, they are very sacred to the men. They’re more valuable to us than most let on. They take care of the men; they heal them not only physically, but mentally as well. They are the emotional support system that we can’t find in one another, because we can be non-emotional asswads. They make sure that we are taken care of and handle shit when we can’t.”
He definitely had ways of explaining things. She had never thought of the women the way he described it. She always viewed them as whores. She actually felt bad now.
“Guess I’ve been wrong about a lot of stuff.” She took a sip of the water and set it back to the table. She still had mixed emotions about everything, but she knew it wasn’t fair of her not to give it a chance. “I can’t promise I can keep my mouth shut when I see things that I don’t agree with. I’m kinda vocal about stuff.”
Dalton’s smile lit up the room as she agreed to give them a chance. “I have ways of punishing you if you step out of line.”
“I might step out of line on purpose.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
ROMEO WAS AT THE clubhouse by five-thirty and he was amped. His whole body vibrated in anticipation of what he had planned. Reno even showed up for the rumble that Romeo had spent the past two days planning out between trying to get to know his daughter.
Dressed in black all the way to his skull cap, Romeo had to explain to Rebel—since she hated being called Shiloh—that he’d be back by nine. She had asked him who he was going to burglarize. It had taken him off guard, but he laughed it off and shook his head. He told her it was a club meeting, kind of like an initiation. She accepted it and didn’t ask any more.
Smart kid.
Now as he sat at the bar, the members trickled in. Colt was first, which was surprising. Black wranglers and T-shirt, he sported a black ball cap over his reddish blond hair.
“Dude, seriously. This is not the time to be pissing your sister off.”
Romeo lifted the corner of his mouth in a half grin. “She’ll get over it. Trust me.”
“So you say.” Colt rapped his knuckles against the bar top.
“No, I know.”
Colt quirked a brow as Hawkeye wandered in but didn’t come over to the two since they looked like they were deep in conversation. “What am I missing?”
Romeo’s brows furrowed, going hand in hand with the frown that marred his scruffy features. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. Hadn’t really thought about it. “A lot.”
“You need to talk?”
“How about a lobotomy instead?”
“Well shit. I left my damn poker at the house. I’m sure I can find an ice pick to scramble your brains with.”
Romeo pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut, and sighed. Several other members had filtered in and taken seats somewhere, and the Reno crew greeted the brothers who were now curious as to Romeo’s plans.
He blew out a large puff of air, cleared his throat, and turned around slightly in his chair to face everyone. Good, they were all running 66, no one was in colors. The talking slowly silenced as he waited for them all to get their greetings out of the way.
“I have a slight announcement to make. No one knows any of this outside this clubhouse and I want it to stay that way until I’m ready to let others know.” He scanned the room to make sure that each male understood the depth of the silent threat. “I have gained custody of my daughter that I never knew I had.”
The room exploded in a battery of questions. All Romeo could do was hold up his hands and try to quiet them down. He glanced at Colt, whose jaw was on the floor. “You might want to close that mouth of yours, or else I’ll put something in it.”
“Bro, how many times I got to tell you? You ain’t my type.” Colt grinned and shook his head.
“I’m everybody’s type.” Romeo rose from the chair, his hands slid into his pockets. “Her name is Shiloh Margaret Lopez-James, but she prefers to be called Rebel. And yes, she was Maggie’s.”
Yeah, the thirty men in the room were so silent, one could hear a mosquito piss on a flat rock a mile away.
“I was just as shocked as all of you are right now. She’s living with me, and well, she’s all of yours now. I’m not going to hide the life from her
, Stone never did from Amy or myself. I won’t lie to her either, but I’ll protect her to the death, and I ask the rest of you do the same.”
Axe stood up and slowly started to clap. One by one, each brother stood and joined in until the whole room was filled with applause.
Colt shook his head. “Call me before you break the news to Amy, please. I don’t want to be home after she finds out you told the club before her.”
“I’ll tell her tomorrow. I’ll bring Rebel over. She’ll be fine.”
“Keep dreaming, dude.”
Romeo shrugged, and then addressed the group once more. “Zacky-boy will be here in a moment with a truck that Sinjin, myself, Wolf, and Saber will be in. The rest of you will be in vans, one with Colt, the other with Talon. They will fill you in on the plans as we roll out. Be sure to be packing, but do not use the heat unless it is absolutely necessary. And I’m talking as in: if you think your life is at risk, or a brothers.”
Zack poked his head in and gave a thumbs up.
“Alright, roll out. Split up between the two vans.”
* * * *
It didn’t take too long to get where they were going. Zack was driving an honest to goodness old school ice cream truck. Romeo was sitting in the back with Wolf, Saber ,and Sinjin, everyone bouncing their legs or moving their hands. Energy was high as they rolled down the street, though there was not much chatter.
“About to roll in,” Zack called back to the guys in warning to get ready.
Sinjin nodded and grabbed up his favorite weapon, his Louisville Slugger. Saber was gripping a crow bar, and Wolf—well, Wolf didn’t need much in the way of weaponry. His hands were enough.
Zack flipped on the old cassette player over the giant bullhorn speaker as he pulled into a driveway. He slowed down to a crawl, letting the truck creep forward inch by inch while musical renditions of Pop Goes The Weasel and Do Your Ears Hang Low played through the loud speaker to attract attention to them.
Fractured (Devil's SixGuns MC Book 2) Page 17