“Memphis, baby, are you hurt?” I gave her a quick look-over, and there seemed to be no obvious injuries, but her heart-wrenching sobs told me she was hurt, though.
“Creed, what is going on?”
“Teach, can you just give me a few minutes, please,” I said, but it wasn’t a question. Over the years, I had experienced firsthand many tears from Memphis. Tears caused by anger, sadness, frustration, but these tears today? They were on me, my fault. I left her alone when I shouldn’t have after insisting she come back with me, leaving the cosy world she had created for herself so I could feel better about myself.
Sometimes, Stephens, you can be a real wanker, I reprimanded myself.
“Angel, how about we get you up, yeah?” I said in a quiet, low voice.
Her sobs were quietening, and her head nodded slowly.
“Creed, let’s get her over to the couch. The guys have taken Vegas outside, and the crowd is following them,” Charlotte suggested. “Just let me get some of these chairs out of the way.”
I was torn between helping a pregnant Charlotte and staying with Memphis. Deck was going to lose his shit if he caught his wife lifting anything—he had already stopped her from picking up Shiloh. But leaving Memphis didn’t sit well in my gut. I had already fucked up by doing that, and I wasn’t going to rub salt in her wounds by doing it again. Making my mind up, I gave Charlotte a chin lift.
“Yeah, thanks, Teach. Just take it easy, okay? Push them out of the way, and don’t pick them up,” I said, giving her protruding belly a pointed look.
With a nod of her own, Charlotte started pushing the chairs that had toppled over out of the way, making a path for me to get Memphis out. At one stage, there was no choice, and she had to pick up two chairs that were tangled by the legs.
“Sweetness! What the fuck are you doing?”
Fucking perfect. Just what I didn’t need right now. Memphis was now quietly hiccuping. My hands were around her shoulders, yet to look at me or answer me, but the death grip she had on Apollo when I first got to her had eased.
“Deck, honey. Please be quiet.” Charlotte hushed her husband.
I looked up and saw Deck barrelling towards us. His eyes narrowed in on his pregnant wife and the chair she was currently struggling with. Great, just great. Now my SAA was going to kick my arse and enjoy doing it.
“Charlie, for God’s sake, the doctor said no lifting.”
“Hmmph, you told the doctor to say that, Deck Johnston—no lifting, no dancing, no riding but lots of sex. Did you think she wasn’t going to tell me, Honey?” Charlotte chided but dropped the chair. She had not had the easiest pregnancy as far as mood swings went. Deck decided the only way to keep her happy was to keep her in bed and on his dick, or that’s what it sounded like every time I walked past their rooms.
“Creed, what is going on here? Why is my wife moving the chairs and not you? And who is this woman, and why is she crying?” Deck fired off questions, one after the other.
I felt Memphis’s shoulder tense at his question of who she was. Fuck. I messed up. Not telling my club about her was to protect myself, not Memphis.
“Deck, not right now. I have to get her up and see if she has injured herself.” I heard the warning in my voice, and my brother moved quickly to finish clearing the seats.
The room was quiet now with all the mourners outside seeing Vegas off. In my peripheral vision, I saw Mannix and Steel had made their way back inside, their women clasped firmly at their sides. I didn’t see Booth or Stella, but as the president of the club and the first lady, they were expected to stay until the end. Vegas’s family had requested a private cremation back in her hometown the day after tomorrow. Darth would be going on his own at his personal request, which we all agreed he needed to do. Booth had suggested he take some time off and head to Melbourne to see some of our old army mates, but Darth wasn’t having any of that. He hated that he had to leave Shiloh even for a day when she and the club needed him. Unfortunately, he was right. If we were going to find Rogue and Callie, we needed the whole club together.
“Creed,” Memphis whispered, shaking me out of my daydream.
I quickly helped her to her feet, which wasn’t easy because of the seventy-kilo dog crowding her, but with a little coaxing from her, Apollo moved just enough for me to swing her up into my arms. Memphis didn’t make a sound as she wrapped her arms around my neck and hid her face against my chest. Even through my black tee, I could feel the warmth of her breath. My whole body zinged as electric sparks ignited in me.
Feeling like a world-class arsehole, I kicked away a folding chair from my path and made my way over to one of the couches. I needed to check Memphis over and make sure the fall didn’t hurt her too badly. After that, I would deal with the emotional hurt I had caused.
“Here, Ange. I’m putting you down, but I promise I am not going anywhere. I want to check you over.” Placing her gently on the couch, I immediately saw her knees were skinned, one worse than the other. Shit!
“Teach, can you go get Darth?”
“No!” Memphis shouted.
“Angel, you’re hurt. Darth is our medic, and he can help,” I tried to reason with her, but her head was shaking back and forth crazily.
“No, please, Creed. Leave him be. This isn’t the day for him to be focusing on anything but his loss and on Shiloh. I’m fine, really. I’m just a bit shaky, that’s all.” Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide and a lighter blue than usual. Fuck me, I did this to her. I fucked up and did this.
“Okay, Memph, calm down,” I said, using the nickname Lila Rose gave her. Looking over, I found Deck’s narrowed glare directed at me. Tough shit. He was just going to have to wait. My wife was hurt, and she came first. The rest would still be there later. It was time I started thinking about her in all this, how this was affecting her, and not just me. Thinking of myself stopped now.
“Deck, this is my wife, Memphis. She is blind, and as you can see, she has a few cuts on her knees. Would you mind getting me the first-aid kit from the kitchen?”
Deck’s face didn’t give away his shock, but his blue eyes darkened, telling me he was not pleased I had kept secrets from the club. Not to mention hurt an innocent woman by doing it.
“One hour—meeting in the war room, brother,” Deck ordered grimly, then turned and walked off to get what I had asked for.
I sighed loudly as I ran my free hand down my face, my other hand being held tightly by a scared Memphis. My time had officially run out. It was time to let all the cats out of the bag and tell the truth about everything. Fuck it.
Chapter 9
MEMPHIS
This was one time I was glad I was blind.
Even without sight, I knew I was the centre of attention. I could feel the stares boring into me. Creed was in front of me, tending to my wounds, whatever they were, but my husband obviously thought they were bad enough. He was very thorough with his attention to them. He touched every inch of my legs, his fingers lingering on my thighs and all over them, but when I felt him blow on a scratch after he’d cleaned it, I nearly groaned wantonly—actually, I did, but I couldn’t help it. The scratch was high on my thigh, and he had wiped it gently several times, driving me crazy with each pass of the cotton ball. His knuckles brushed against the inside of my leg, sending shivers where shivers were appreciated. If it weren’t for the others in the room, I might have opened my legs a bit further and…
“All done, Angel. Cleaned up. They aren’t too bad except for the one here,” Creed said, interrupting my sexually charged daydreaming. Again, his clever fingers traced up my trembling leg and rested on the inside of my thigh, centimetres from my panty line.
“Hmm, ’kay,” I mumbled, biting my lip to keep another wanton groan from escaping. This situation was bad enough without adding porn-worthy moans to it.
“Hello, Memphis. I’m Booth. Mind if we ask some questions?” a strong, deep voice asked me.
Okay, then. Here we go. Nodding my head, I
turned my head in the direction of Booth’s voice.
“Um, yes, of course. Hello, Booth. Creed has told me a lot about you. Congratulations to you and Stella on the baby. Sorry I ruined this day for you all,” I rushed out all at once, nerves getting the better of me.
“Thank you, darlin’, and you ruined nothing. Unfortunately, Creed has been a little light with the details of who you are exactly,” Booth said, and I could tell from his tone that he was not happy with Creed.
The last thing I wanted was for Creed to be on the outs with his club brothers because of me. But… I was interested why he felt the need to be so secretive.
“Booth,” Creed growled from beside me, having moved from kneeling in front of me to sitting close to my side, my hand still firmly in his.
“It’s okay. Go ahead, Creed. Tell them.”
Creed sighed loudly and squeezed my hand before going on to explain.
“The night Vegas was killed, I was heading to my bike when I got a phone call from Rogue. He threatened the club again, but there was also a veiled threat to Memphis. He mentioned her bookstore and how easy it would be to burn down.”
I gasped at that piece of information. Creed had not mentioned that part, only that I was in danger but nothing specific.
“How do you know Memphis? Hey there, sugar. I’m Mannix, nice to meet you.”
I lifted my hand and waved approximately where I thought he was. Mannix sounded like trouble, mischief, and strife. I liked his voice.
“Memphis is… or was my sister-in-law, but as of yesterday, she is my wife,” Creed told his brothers. His voice was strong, but I heard the slight tremble when he said the word wife. As far as he was concerned, Lila was his wife and always would be. The pain that always accompanied thoughts of my sister intensified.
“What the fuck, Creed? If we don’t know about Memphis, how the fuck does Rogue or Callie know?” Deck asked—his voice I knew. It was smooth and had a growl to it. Charlotte must appreciate that in certain situations. I giggled at myself and received a warning squeeze from Creed. How on earth did he know what I was thinking?
“Stop thinking about my brother’s skills in bed, Angel,” Creed whispered in my ear, his mouth touching my lobe for a brief second.
Did he kiss it just then? Oh, wow. Butterflies danced in my stomach, and a hot blush erupted over my cheeks.
“I got sloppy. I thought by changing the route to Memphis’s place, I was in the clear. Apparently not. He followed me one time and guessed she was important to me. She is now a target.” I heard the regret and anger in his tone. Creed was blaming himself—again.
“Rogue killed Lila, and now he is after Memphis?”
My head whipped up at hearing that. This madman killed my sister? But how? She died tragically in a motorcycle accident. Creed said so.
“Creed, is this true?”
“Yes,” he hissed.
Stunned by his obvious lack of details, I glared at him.
“Oh, my God, Creed. What else have you lied about? You are obviously embarrassed by me—I get that, but Lila was my sister, and I had a right to know.”
“What the fuck do you mean I am embarrassed by you? How could you say that?” Creed shouted at me, letting go of my hand and, instead, grabbing hold of my shoulders and turning me so I was facing him.
I was angry, so angry that he’d kept such important information from me. He had no bloody right.
“Well, isn’t it obvious? I mean, for years you have been telling me about your club and your brothers. You told me so much about Shiloh and the flock that I feel like I know them personally. But they know nothing about me—nothing, period.” I jumped to my feet, my knees protesting. I couldn’t go anywhere, but I couldn’t sit still, either.
“Memphis, calm down, baby. I am not nor have I ever been embarrassed by you. Fucking never, got that? I had my reasons for not saying anything. Granted, right now, those reasons seem ridiculous, but at the time, I thought I was warranted keeping you out of this life I had created after Lila Rose died. As for Rogue being responsible for her death, I only just found that out recently, and everyone here can vouch for that. I promise, I was going to tell you, but then we got that fucking letter from the solicitor, and that took precedence.”
I could see him in my mind, running his hands through his short hair, frustrated. He did that a lot when I was younger, especially when Lila and I joined forces and pressed his buttons.
“Why? Why should I believe you? Apparently, all I have been getting from you are half-truths, enough of the story, but not all of it. Same goes for your brothers. Do you… do you want a divorce or an annulment, Creed?” I hardly had the words out when Creed jumped up and bumped into me, his hands hard on my shoulders.
“Fuck. No, I don’t. Jesus, woman! I messed this shit up I know. I have some things I need to figure out and sort through, but I do not want a divorce or anything else. Not on your life.” The vehemence in his voice pulled at my heart and gave me hope. Hope that one day, just maybe, he could open up his heart and let me have a little place in there, too.
“Creed, how about we take this to the war room? Your woman looks about dead on her feet and can probably do with something to eat,” Booth said. His voice was closer, and I surmised he must be standing next to Creed.
Suddenly, I had the urge to know what the president of my husband’s club looked like. Forgetting about my anger for a minute, I asked Creed my usual question.
“Where?”
“Directly next to me on my left.”
I nodded and proceeded with my ritual. My hands found Booth’s face, and I began tracing my fingertips all over it, In the background, I heard a laugh from Steel.
“This is so cool. She did this shit to me at her place and said I was movie star good looking.” His comment made me smile, but I didn’t stop my perusal of Booth’s face.
“Handsome, Booth. Wow, the men of this club must be gorgeous if Steel and Booth are anything to go by. Mannix, Deck, where are you?” I asked smiling, grateful the hard edge of the mood was, for now, put on the back burner, at least until the men went off to their war room where Creed was probably going to be raked over the coals by his mates.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Creed declared with a growl as he removed my hands from his president’s handsome face. “Blondie, would you mind getting Memphis something to eat—if you aren’t feeling too tired, that is.”
“Of course, I don’t mind. Hang on, and I will run and get some yummies together on a plate.” The voice I assumed belonged to Stella had a combination of sexy, husky, and sweet to it.
“You won’t run anywhere, Honey. How many times do I have to tell you?” Booth growled at his wife, and when I heard a high-pitched squeak and a deep masculine laugh, I looked at Creed for guidance on what was happening.
“He picked her up and carried her to the kitchen. Stella is lucky if she is allowed to walk from her bed to the toilet. Her pregnancy so far has been fraught with bad all day sickness. Booth constantly worries about her,” Creed explained.
I closed my eyes and imagined the scene, only it was Creed sweeping me up in his arms, his eyes adoring me and being constantly worried about me. Being loved and adored like that. It must be nice, I thought to myself.
“Angel, please don’t,” Creed implored me.
Don’t what? What was he talking about? Before I could ask him, Booth and Stella came back into the room.
“Memphis, I am leaving you here with my wife, Stella, and Charlotte, Rainn, and Mia are also here. Shiloh is off spending some time with Darth before he leaves tomorrow for the private cremation. You will meet her in the morning, no doubt.”
I hoped so. I had heard so much about her from Creed, and she sounded like a pistol, going by some of the stories.
“War room now,” Booth boomed.
I was gently pushed back into a sitting position by Creed. His touch was always followed by sparks of electricity, goose bumps, and all that other fairy tale stuff you read in r
omance novels. His touch was not one I mistook for anyone else’s touch.
I nodded my head and tried to smile, which I was sure was more like a grimace. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the women because, from what Creed had told me about them, I was looking forward to getting to know them all, but after what just happened, my nerves and confidence were shaken.
“Angel, you will be fine. When I get back, we can go to my room and rest, okay?” Creed murmured.
I could do nothing except nod, but deep inside me, I couldn’t help but believe that nothing was going to be fine or okay ever again, and never had I been more frightened in my life.
———
“Are there any more of those mini cheesecakes?” I asked around a mouthful of the most unbelievable thing I had ever had in my mouth.
“Oh, sweetie, there is a never-ending supply of them. Here, they are in front of you. They are Mia’s favourite—this month, at least. Who knows what she will be craving next month, though,” Stella said with a giggle. She had a great laugh, sounding so carefree and happy despite what had happened in recent days. It had to be the unwavering love and support from Booth, I decided.
“So, Memphis—I love your name, by the way, it’s so cool—tell us about yourself. The guys will be in the war room for at least an hour, so don’t give us the condensed version.”
I laughed properly for the first time since arriving at the Wounded Souls compound. Leaning forward, I felt for the plate and picked up my fifth dessert. They really were unbelievably fantastic.
“Okay, where do you want me to start?” I asked before popping the whole cake into my mouth.
Chapter 10
CREED
My mind was on the golden-brown-haired woman out in the kitchen, scared and out of her element. I found myself thinking about her in ways I really shouldn’t have been, and that freaked me out. Lila Rose was the only woman I’d ever had sex with. We’d met when we were fourteen and were each other’s first. She was my one and only, and after she died, my sexual needs just—pfft—went away. Looking at other women didn’t interest me for years, and then Mia happened, but even then, when she offered herself to me that night at her place, I wasn’t tempted, not enough, anyway.
His Angel: The Wounded Souls Series Page 5