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Rafe (The Wounded Sons Book 4)

Page 10

by Leah Sharelle


  The whole group of ladies lining the bar cracked up laughing at a grumbling Shiloh, who was giving Wren a glare that would worry an outsider.

  “And,” Wren added, holding up one hand, “don’t pull that ‘I’m the president of the club’ shit with me. I have known you half of your life, and trust me, I am not calling you Pres.”

  Sitting back at the end of the bar, I listened to the fun banter between the two women, a light beer in front of me untouched. I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but Shiloh plopped it down on the bar when I sat down, so I decided it was some kind of requirement or something. I had spent a lot of time at the compound lately, but I usually hung out in the garden or sat with Addy in a corner hiding from sight.

  It wasn’t as if I didn’t like the company, it was more an intimidation problem. Every woman at the club, or Flock as they were called were nothing short of stunning; the younger ones and the older.

  The very first time I was brought to the compound, the night of the fire. I had been welcomed with opened arms by the original Souls’ women. Stella, Charlotte, Mia, Rainn and Memphis sat me down in the kitchen and feed me caramel slice and hot chocolate, then went about getting more personal information out of me than I’d ever told anyone before while I demolished a plate of the sugary treats. Since then, I met up with at least one of them once a week for lunch. I liked the vibe the Flock presented, it was kind and fiercely protective. I quickly learnt that they didn’t bring every newcomer into their sacred circle, Shiloh told me one look from any of them and they knew instantly if you were in or out. Thankfully, I had that ‘something’ they liked.

  “Hey, Peyton, are you still wanting to drive down to Queenscliff on Friday afternoon?” Devon shouted at me from the other end of the bar.

  “That’s the plan if I can get someone to go with me. Rafe doesn’t want me driving on my own, so unless one of you ladies want to come, I guess he will be coming to get me.”

  Wren, Devon and Addy all nodded at me. Shiloh and Mia, who were also behind the bar, looked firmly pleased with what I’d said.

  “If there is one thing about the Sons, they follow in the original Team Five footsteps. They know how to protect their own.”

  Looking at Mia, I raised my eyebrows in confusion. “But Rafe isn’t a real son. He never grew up here.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” another voice piped up from behind me. Turning in my seat, I smiled when Stella Booth came up and took a seat next to me.

  “Rafe didn’t join Gabe’s team on request, he was invited. My son has the same sixth sense about people that his father has. Gabe knows a good man with loyalty when he sees it. He also only has men on his team he can trust with his own life and those of his family. Rafe didn’t have to be born with Souls blood running through his veins to be one sweetheart. He earnt his place because my son saw his qualities as a soldier and as a human being.”

  “It’s the same for you, Peyton. If we didn’t see the same qualities in you, then you would not be sitting here. Oh, you would have the club’s protection at the clinic, but we wouldn’t have welcomed you into our lives and our home.”

  Opening my mouth to speak, I gaped once, then twice, but nothing came out. Stella was a beautiful woman, even in her fifties, she could pass for thirty-five. The way she spoke about her son and his team made me envious that my own family would never stick up for me in such a way. Rafe wasn’t her family and yet she spoke of him as if he was. I couldn’t even begin to process what she said about me, let alone comment on it at the moment.

  “Yeah, he is very nice,” I offered pathetically, still kind of overwhelmed by the dynamics that went on here in the club.

  Stella stifled a giggle, then patted me on the shoulder. “You will get used to us, darlin’ girl. We don’t beat around the bush, we speak our minds. Life is too short for bullshit.”

  “Did I just hear a swear word come from your sweet mouth, Honey?” Booth, Stella’s husband, asked amusedly. The man was tall, gruff and downright scary. Not scary looking, because I swear he was a sexy man. Long, blond hair with only a hint of grey, but his eyes were fully grey and they were just as intimidating as his size. They missed nothing, held a hint of mistrust, but at the same time, I never got the feeling that he didn’t like me.

  “Hello, Mr Booth,” I said politely, not looking at him, more over at his shoulder.

  “Hmmm, Peyton, I thought I told you last time I was at the clinic to call me Booth, just Booth,” he grunted, moving one step to his left, so his face was in my line of sight and not just his shoulder.

  “You did, sir, but old habits die hard. I went to a private Catholic school and was taught to respect my elders. Calling someone like you by your first name seems disrespectful to me,” I explained, maybe a little too much going by the shocked look on his face.

  Damn, what did I say wrong?

  “Someone like me?” he asked quietly.

  “Well, yeah,” looking at Stella, I shrugged, “Rafe says you are the man he admires the most, other than your son. You helped save Addy and me, and while I understand you protecting her the way you do, you didn’t have to give me the same treatment, but you have. I was a virtual stranger and you brought me into your home and accepted me as one of your own. I don’t know many people that would do that.”

  Booth stared at me, his face impassive, not giving away what he might be thinking about what I told him. I had to admit I was a little nervous, the way those grey eyes stared back at me.

  “That is fucking sad that you think no one sees what my club and I see in you, Peyton. Very sad, but I get it. You will come to realise you are here because my wife says you are worth it, and I learnt a long time ago, my wife is a perfect judge of character.” Looking to his side, he turned his grey eyes on Stella, and what passed between them must have been all kinds of romantic because the look of devotion she sent him made me pine for Rafe. He had been gone for only three days so far and already I was finding it hard to go home to an empty house. This was nuts because I did it all the time before him, and since when he went off on deployment, but now things were different, and his presence in my home was more than a bit of company and safety.

  He was … my home and had been before we started us.

  Glancing at my watch, I noticed the time was getting close to when Rafe was due to call me. For the last few days, he and his team had been in training exercises with other branches of the military from many other countries. I also learnt how much Rafe did not get along with the American SEALS. He made me giggle with his ranting and the colourful phrases he came out with describing precisely what he thought of them. Some nights I heard one of his mates in the background teasing him about it, and sometimes it was not teasing but reprimanding. When I asked about it, he simply said, sometimes his temper gets in his way. I didn’t bother asking him to elaborate, if he wants to tell me, he will.

  I might not be from this world of comradery, loyalty, and tight-knit groups, but I wasn’t stupid. It was like Stella said, trust was earned, and with that would come the rest. Pushing my still full drink away from me, I gave Shiloh an apologetic smile. Beer just wasn’t my taste.

  “I am sorry to cut this night short, but Rafe will be calling soon, so I better get on home.” Standing from the barstool, I fished my car keys out of my handbag. Rafe took my ute to Queenscliff at my insistence, so I was driving his Kingswood. It was a hunk of junk but a classic Aussie piece of motor vehicle memorabilia. Rafe refused to let anyone restore it, which is why he bought it before anyone could fix it up. I did my best to keep it clean and the paint protected, but there was nothing I could do about the motor. Maybe I should have a talk with Creed or Shiloh, they ran the club’s custom work shop, perhaps they could take a look at it for me. If Rafe insisted on keeping it, then he needed to look after it a bit better.

  Booth nodded at me, his game face back. “Righto, Seb will follow you home, then stay for an hour outside until he is relieved.” His tone not inviting any argument. Placing his forefinger and thu
mb in his mouth, he let out a short sharp whistle, then made a motion to me to a person across the room. Seb, I presumed.

  This was also something I learned from being around the club for the past six months. The club looked after their own, and that meant at and away from work.

  “Thank you, … Booth,” I replied quietly, ducking my head and shying away from his intense gaze.

  “No thanks necessary, darlin’, you are part of this family and belong to Rafe. We look after our own, remember?”

  Blushing at his comment about Rafe, I gaped at him.

  “How? How did you know?”

  Booth’s booming laugh echoed in the large room, catching the attention of nearly everyone there.

  “Peyton, nothing goes on here that I don’t know about. Plus, Rafe had the look of a man who had fallen written all over him the other day when they left for the base. I have seen that look on the faces of every male member of this club too often not to recognise a man in love when I see it.”

  “Oh.”

  “And he picked wisely, in my humble opinion.” Giving me a lazy smile, Booth then wrapped his arms around Stella and lifted her up bridal style and walked away with his wife staring up at him with love oozing from her. My heart constricted in my chest as I waved to the ladies still sitting at the bar, receiving shouts of ‘good-bye’ and ‘see ya later’ from them all.

  I really love this family, I decided silently to myself as I walked away, knowing that Seb was not far behind me.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RAFE

  “So, where are we going, Tank?” I asked, looking across at my CO. Ten minutes ago, he sent word for me to meet him at his jeep after I signed out off the base. Going on some mystery trip with Gabe wasn’t in my plans for the rest of the afternoon. I needed a shower after sweating since 0500 hours this morning. Training exercises were an integral part of being a soldier, but at times I thought they were a waste of time for the likes of a Special Ops team like the Wounded Sons. Cocky? Maybe. True? Most definitely. The army called and used us in situations other branches could not handle for a good reason. As a team, we worked perfectly. As soldiers, there was nothing we couldn’t handle. Sometimes these exercises felt more like a my dick is bigger than your dick kind of a thing instead of what it was meant to be. That being making yourself a better fighter, a better soldier, a better teammate and a better man.

  Hanging out with frogmen who liked cheap shots and pissing me off were not fun times for me. Especially when all day I have been toey as fuck knowing Peyton was coming tonight, in fact, she should be on the way with Devon. I breathed a sigh of relief when she told me on the phone last night Devon was taking the trip with her. Not that I minded going back to Ballarat to pick her up, I would do fucking anything for Peyton, no matter how fucking tired my body felt. Looking at the clock on the dash, I mentally calculated how long before my girl got here.

  “You know I got shit to do right, Cap? Peyton is on her way and I haven’t seen her for five days.”

  “I am aware of that fact LC, I also know exactly where they are at this very moment, so I know we have enough time to do a favour for my old man,” Gabe informed me, his knowing smirk exactly the same as the man I idolised. All the members of Team FIVE held Lieutenant Vincent Booth in the highest regard.

  “What kind of favour?” I asked, instead of asking him how he knew about the girl’s travel progress, that I had a feeling I already knew.

  “Know I have a tracker on my fiancée, hey?” Gabe laughed, taking the road away from town, heading instead to the north on the beach road.

  Snorting a laugh, I looked at the road carefully–a force of habit of my career.

  “Kind of, yeah,” I snorted. “So what is the favour?” I asked again.

  “This isn’t set in stone as yet, but Shiloh and Dad are thinking about another charter of the Wounded Souls. With the Hawks MC in Ballarat as well, with another branch an hour away in Caroline Springs, the old man thought moving in a different direction might be better. Shiloh suggested Queenscliff because the team is down here too.”

  “Another charter. Really? I had no idea your dad was thinking of expanding.”

  “Neither did I, to tell the truth. Dad keeps most things close to his chest, only Mum and the original members are privy to his private thoughts.”

  “Wow. So relocating members from Ballarat or new ones?” I asked, intrigued at the idea of a possible charter being so close to us here at the base. While I never considered joining the club, I loved hanging out at the compound, mainly because I got to sit and talk to the men who created the legend of the best team in the commandos. Riding bikes I enjoyed, but secretly I preferred a high-powered Kawasaki over a Harley, not that I would ever share that with a patched member. Ever.

  “Shiloh and Dad are still going back and forth on the details, all I know is they have Doc earmarked to head the new club. Apparently, he is from Geelong originally and is wanting to come back home for family reasons, but doesn’t want to leave the club.”

  A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Hey, does the Wounded Souls allow members to leave? Do they just hand their patch in and take off? Or do they have to get their tats burnt off and look over their shoulders for the rest of their life?” Peyton liked watching a bikie drama on Netflix, and to my horror, she had me hooked on it, which was the reason for my question. I was up to the episode where the former pres was about to lose his position and his ink as punishment for turning on the club.

  Fucking interesting stuff.

  “Fucking hell,” Gabe muttered, reaching out and slapping me hard in the shoulder.

  “Seriously? Jesus Rafe, we aren’t an outlaw club, for Christ’s sake. Yes, they can leave, and no, they don’t meet a blow torch at the door. My god, don’t tell me you are watching that show now, too?”

  “You don’t? I thought you would being part of an MC.”

  “I grew up in one mate, and I don’t have to watch a Hollywood rendition of life in a club. There is a big difference between make-believe and real life, even in the outlaw clubs, TV is mighty different from reality.”

  “Not all that different to shows about military teams, Tank,” I scoffed, thinking back to the other night in the rec room. One of the yanks was watching some show about SEALS, all of them agreeing how realistic the scenes were to their experiences. Yeah right, like storming an insurgent compound was really that easy.

  Wankers.

  Gabe drove around, stopping at three different industrial buildings. Taking photos on his phone and sending them to Booth and Shiloh. The possible choices weren’t much different from the compound in Ballarat. Huge buildings with large frontage car parks, high fences and nothing much surrounding them other than empty land.

  “Are there requirements for the location or just see what is available?” I asked, looking out of my window at an old derelict abattoir. Gabe stopped the car on the side of the road, both of us casting a critical eye over the area.

  “Nothing too much. Private road and plenty of land at the rear of the building. Dad would prefer the main building to be far off the road, hence why he likes the carpark to be in front. The condition doesn’t matter that much, as Deck and his crew will make changes anyway. Just good bones, Dad said.”

  Pointing a finger at the dilapidated building, I looked over at Gabe.

  “I reckon there are good bones here, don’t you? It ticks all the boxes; at the end of a no through road, and it is on at least ten acres as far as I can estimate.”

  “Reckon you might be right, mate, let me ring Dad and let him know he should come down and take a look for himself.” Taking his phone, Gabe woke it up and smiled at the screen. “Good timing too, the girls are thirty minutes away. Gives us time to get back to the apartment building and get cleaned up before they arrive.”

  My heart kicked in my chest and my dick twitched in my pants. I could not wait to hold Peyton in my arms and kiss her pouty, pink lips again. It didn’t escape my attention that I never craved
Angie the way I did Peyton. Away from Angie, I managed to put her out of my mind and get on with the day to day of being a soldier without too much angst—at least on my part. Now though, all I could think about was my fairy floss haired Bunny. This week without her had been very fucking difficult, on more than one occasion, I nearly fucked up because I was thinking about her. Worrying if she was safe or scared without me at the house. Was she eating properly, and was she coping with driving my car.

  “Thinking about Peyton, Rafe?” Gabe asked me, tossing his phone into the console.

  “Yeah. You call your dad?” I don’t recall hearing him talking, but then again, thinking about Peyton did make me single-minded, making it possible I didn’t hear Gabe speaking on the phone.

  “Nah, sent him a text. Most times when I call, I interrupt him and Mum … doing stuff,” he shuddered dramatically, “I’m fucking traumatised enough, thank you.”

  Laughing, I powered up my window. The afternoon weather was turning from the hot day we had experienced. As was the weather down the beach, cold fronts came off the water fast and sometimes ferocious. The sooner Peyton and Devon arrived, the better.

  “I cleaned the flat early this morning before I left for the base, so all I need to do is shower and stand out on the balcony and wait for Pey to get here.”

  “How is shit going with her? You two looked pretty cosy at the compound the day we left for training. She yours?” Gabe enquired, making a U-turn at the end of the road then heading back the way we came.

  “It’s new, but we both want it to happen. I know enough about her that I don’t want to let her go,” I allowed, knowing what Gabe was thinking. He was the only one on the team that knew everything about Angie. My mates knew that I was divorced, but none of them, except for Gabe, knew about the accident and that she was in a coma.

  “And she knows enough about you?”

  Fisting my hands on my thighs, I groaned loudly and frustrated.

 

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