When Opposites Collide Boxset

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When Opposites Collide Boxset Page 47

by Kathy Coopmans


  The tears spill over, trickling down my cheeks. I swear one day, they’ll all dry up. I’m not sure how it’s even possible to keep crying.

  “Isn’t it crazy?” Amelia’s voice hitches with emotion. “She brought us all together not even knowing it.”

  I bite down on my bottom lip and decide to go with honesty. “I’m fucking angry at her. I knew she had friends, a job she loved, and that was her place of solace away from Ricky. I begged and begged to help her until I was blue in the face. I was always afraid she’d shut me out for good, you know. Now my sister is gone. I should have done something more.”

  I jerk back when Amelia falls to her knees in front of me clutching my hands in hers. “I know better than anyone how survival feels when there’s no hope of surviving. We can’t judge her. She was living the only way she could.”

  “I’m not judging her. I’m judging me. I knew what he was doing to her. I knew it in here.” I point to my chest. Saying those words is freeing, but it doesn’t make the hole in my chest feel any better.

  “I have to get Wilder back. He’s got to be scared. I know he is.”

  I flip my gaze up to hers. Our tears are mirroring one another’s. She is a strong woman. It’s the determination in her bright blues that gives me hope.

  “None of us will stop trying until that little boy is back home with you. When Zoe finally opened up to me about her son, I witnessed what true love really means.”

  “What do you mean, none of you?” I interrupt her. Ignoring the part about her loving Wilder. I’m her sister. I know how much he meant to her. God, listen to me. My internal thoughts are turning me into a bitch.

  “Well, Zoe isn’t the only one who kept secrets.” She rises and sits on the edge of her lounger. “We all have them. Ours is one that will bring Wilder back to his family, you.”

  I clutch the sides of my head, growing more and more confused with each second, every effort of trying to process her words.

  “Just tell me, Amelia. I hate secrets. Secrets are what took my sister from us all in the first place,” I blurt out.

  “Most of the story is not mine to tell.”

  “Amelia, don’t play those fucking games with me!” I snap.

  She recoils at the nasty tone. I should feel ashamed. But I don’t.

  “I’m not playing games with anyone. You need to know that there are so many different levels, layers, and puzzle pieces to all of this.”

  I stand to lose my last thread of patience over her not making any sense to me. I throw my hands up to the sky and scream, “It’s simple. Really fucking simple. My sister is dead, and my nephew is missing. How much simpler can it be than that?”

  Amelia’s tears run fast and hard down her cheeks. I’m out of control, and I know it. I don’t care. My mind cannot catch up with my tongue.

  “Hey.”

  His scent hits me first like a sucker punch to the gut. It’s him. The one who held me and walked me into the hospital. The man who held my hand at the funeral. Saxon. I’m instantly pissed, relieved, and confused as hell. The thick ropes of his arms wrap around me from behind. My body falls into his chest just like it was made to be there.

  “Let me, Amelia.” The deep timbre of his voice rattles my core to a breaking point. “It’s my story to tell. I’m gonna keep it real fucking simple, yeah?”

  What story are these people talking about?

  “Take a seat.” He points. I sit. I do not like his demanding tone one little bit. He doesn’t take a seat. His hand goes to the back of his neck, squeezing out his frustration over me yelling at his sister-in-law. I’m sure of it. While I wait for him to chew my ass out, I take a few seconds to take him in. The sides of his head are shaved tight with longer pieces of hair on top pulled into a ponytail. He’s cleanly shaved. Handsome as any man I’ve seen. He’s overbearing and out-of-this-world sexy.

  “I knew Zoe. Fuck, I wanted her. Ain’t nothing but the truth gonna fly from these lips. I don’t play games, darlin’.” Huh? What does he mean? Did he want her, want her? I’m beginning to think these people are as crazy as I am.

  He grabs a cigarette from his front pocket, lights it, and takes a deep inhale of smoke. “Amelia was worried about her. I went to her house that day. I’m the one who found her dead body. The cops were already on the way.”

  I fly into action jumping to my feet and getting right up in the man’s face. He smells like nicotine, danger, and power. I take a step back and ignore the smoke he blows in the air. “Was he there? Why didn’t you stop him?”

  The lit cigarette dangles from his lips as he grabs me by the shoulders, sitting my ass right back down. He slowly inhales one more time then exhales. Deeply. I’m pissing him off. Good. Join whatever party game you and your family are playing.

  “I don’t play fucking games, remember that part of the story, b—”

  The last word dies off, but I’m not an idiot. I know what he was going to call me. It would only take three seconds of being around this man to know he doesn’t play by society’s rules. I’ve seen enough of his type over my years of working. It’s the way they roll. In my defense, I have every right to be the biggest bitch in the world. She was my sister.

  “I have one of my best friends trying to track that fucker down. Hell’s Lovers is on it. He’s making it difficult for us to find him. We will find him, darlin’, and when we do, we will bring Wilder home, and we will take care of Ricky. He’ll get as good as he gave. A few of my buddies live for this shit. They scare the hell out of me, so cool your ass. Trust in us.” Trust? I don’t even know this man. Why in the hell does the way he says ‘trust’ and the way he says ‘we’ll handle it’ not frighten me the way I’ve been scared out of my mind for Wilder? I need to pinch myself. Or get drunk.

  “You saw her,” I whisper, not even knowing how those words made it through the fog in my head right now.

  He answers with a curt nod. Leans over and puts out the end of his cigarette with his boot. His eyes are watery. This is killing him.

  “Zeke would kick your ass for smoking out here,” Amelia chimes in.

  “He can fucking try.” Brick turns and strides to the house. “Need a fucking drink right now.”

  “I’m sorry, Eden. I didn’t know how to tell you everything. I wanted you to know we will help you get him back.” She rises, holding her hand out to me. “Then my ass of a brother-in-law came in and ripped the Band-Aid off with no finesse whatsoever.”

  I stare up at her for a long time. I deal with facts every day. The world is full of them.

  Brick is no people pleaser. That is clear to see. I, however, appreciate his honesty. I have a choice to make. Lay out all my cards with him or go home and wallow in self-pity with no solution. I crave a cure. He just offered it to me.

  I reach my hand up, taking hers and brushing away the last lingering tears.

  “I’m sorry, Amelia.”

  “No.” She clutches my hand tighter. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life it’s that you never apologize for the way you feel. You wear that shit on your sleeve, and you conquer it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before we step through the sliding glass door, I turn to her. “Thank you for loving Zoe for who she was.”

  Amelia nods. Once we step into the house, the mood has shifted. Brick and Zeke are in a full-out argument over what seasoning to finish grilling the steaks with.

  My heart still throbs with pain, but there’s a lingering flash of hope in there now.

  57

  Brick

  “Jesus Christ, she looks like fucking hell trampled all over her. Can’t you prescribe her some pills or something?” I bring the bottle of whiskey to my mouth, take two strong, heavy pulls. The burn in my throat doesn’t do a damn thing to ease the shit storm I’ve been dealing with.

  I’m barely fucking hanging on. Seeing her this way has me pissed off at the whole damn world. The cops can’t find shit. We can’t find shit. And that motherfucker is out there somew
here with a kid who has to be missing the hell out of his mother. Dirty bastard.

  I’ve kept in contact with Katch every day since I called him. Thank fuck, his wife, Caitlin, has her connections. She found us a picture of the piece of shit. I could have asked Eden the day at the funeral. One look at her, and I knew I couldn’t. I hated asking her the questions I did. My mind has been so twisted up over her that I’ve taken every gun run to New York that the club could find. Three times I’ve driven, delivered, and drunk. Had a damn good time with our friends on the east coast. Our faithful clients. The Diamond family.

  Roan Diamond and his crew of men listened to me tell them what happened with anger spitting out of their eyes. They are at the ready to help us out if needed, and the way it’s going, we’re going to need them, like, yesterday.

  “She won’t take anything. Hell, this is the first time she’s been over here to see the baby. You saw her at the funeral. She’s hurting.” Zeke doesn’t have to tell me; it’s written all over her like a war zone map. Pain. Its fucking aura surrounds her. Guts me.

  “What did she say when you told her that you were the one who found Zoe?” I scoff over his words. Woman has some sass. I like it. More than I should.

  “She about chewed my head off. Like you said, she’s grieving. Eden’s blaming herself, like the rest of us. The difference is, she knew; we didn’t. All we had were our suspicions. We all could have done more. There isn’t a damn thing we can do about it now but get that kid to his aunt, get our revenge, and make Zoe proud of her son.”

  “What do you mean, we? You got an inner badass that you're about to pull out of your pocket?”

  “You know who I’m talking about. You just keep your eyes on these women. Don’t be worrying about what I do.”

  “Screw you. I’ll worry all I want. It’s my job as the big brother. You’ve been gone since the funeral. You haven’t even held your niece yet,” Zeke’s fast to reply.

  Here we fucking go.

  “I’ve been working. I’m here now. You're the first person I called when I got into town. I haven’t even been home yet. Where is she?”

  He doesn’t answer. He takes his fancy-ass steak flipper and points. What the hell is wrong with using a damn fork? Steaks are gonna taste good no matter what you use to flip them with. Prissy ass.

  “Hey, babe, can you come and show Saxon how to hold Clara? He used to pick up our sister's dolls by the hair and throw them.”

  “Fuck you, asshole. I did not. It was you. Amelia, keep your sexy little ass planted right where it is.” Jerk. I’ll show him who this girl will be looking up to her entire life.

  “Come here, princess.” I lean down, curl one hand under her head, the other under her tiny little bottom. She stretches, makes a few noises, and goes right back to sleep. Take a look at this shit, fucker. She’s in love with me already.

  “Man, she’s something else. I can’t believe you're a dad. How’s it feel?” I ask. Take a seat and place her on my lap. She is the cutest little thing I’ve seen in my life. All dark hair, rosy cheeks, and a tiny little mouth wrapped in pink. Perfect.

  “Can’t describe it. Never thought I’d love another girl as much as I do Amelia. The minute I saw Clara, she proved me wrong.”

  “Yeah, I bet. Uncle Brick brought you something. I’ll give it to you as long as you promise to give your dad all kinds of hell and let me know if boys start bothering you and shit,” I whisper to her, knowing damn well if Zeke hears me swearing, he’ll try giving me shit. I reach down and pull my gift out of the pink bag and hold it up. “I had no idea what to get you, then a friend of mine named Alina Diamond bought this for me to give to you. It’s a doll; her name is Clara, just like you.” My eyes water at the sight of her. Our sister would have been in love with this little girl.

  I’m not sure how long I sit with her on my lap. It’s a first, that’s for sure. I love this baby more than anything. Protect her with my life.

  “May I?” Eden sits beside me. Her arms are already reaching out to take Clara from my lap.

  “They sleep a lot,” she says, cradling her in her arms.

  “That’s what I hear.” I look around for Amelia and Zeke. When I see they are nowhere to be found, I decide now is as good as ever to set this shit straight. Make sure she gets my meaning from earlier and knows to keep it to herself.

  “You and I come from opposite ends of the world, darlin’. Did you understand what I said a bit ago? I don’t lie. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. The shit you and I talk about is taken to the grave; you get me?”

  “I get you. I understood everything you said, Saxon.” I lift a brow at her calling me by my given name. The tender vixen has guts. There are very few people who call me that. It’s by choice. Mine.

  “You need to start taking care of yourself. You look like shit.” She jerks her head my way. I shrug. I call it as I see it.

  “I know. I don’t care anymore. That’s the thing, and as cliché as it is to say, Wilder is all I have left of her. She won’t rest peacefully until I have him. I know she won’t. Do whatever you have to do. I’m not going to stop you.” She shocks the hell out of me when she whispers the truth. I wasn’t worried about her turning me in. I was more concerned about how she would feel about me personally.

  Two firsts in one night. Fuck me.

  “Give me your keys.” Amelia sticks out her hand, her tiny little fingers making her little gimme motion. She needs to be tamed down. I reach into my pocket, drop them in her hand, grab a smoke, and slap Eden’s ass on the way to the opposite side of the deck.

  “Watch it,” she jabs. Oh, I’m watching it, alright. She’s had me rock hard all night. I’d love nothing more than to see what the good doctor can do.

  “Make sure you grab her keys, too. She might have eaten because I practically shoved it down her throat, but she’s been sucking down them shots of Honey Jack as much as me. If I have a buzz, then she’s fucking trashed.”

  I had to stand over the top of the woman to get her to eat half of the food on her plate. She stood up to me, too. Until I grabbed her by the arm, planted her in the chair next to me, and placed her plate on her lap.

  “I’m staying,” she slurs.

  Damn right, she is.

  I light my smoke, letting the nicotine draw deep into my lungs while I watch Eden. She may be grieving, hiding behind her sweatshirt, but she isn’t fooling me. Or Zeke. She’s alone. Or at least she thinks she is.

  Amelia snags Eden’s keys. Zeke is right behind her grabbing the baby monitor off the patio table.

  “Need to get my wife stripped down and naked in the shower. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

  “Whoa!” Eden jumps up on her feet, wobbling back and forth. “It hasn’t been six weeks yet. There’s no way you can be having sex. Hell, her stitches—”

  Zeke’s roaring laughter mutes out Eden’s tirade. She wobbles back and forth, swaying so badly I’m afraid she’s about to get a face full of cement. I grab her by the hip, spreading one palm out to help steady her. The woman may have lost weight, but she has a sweet-looking ass. Fuck me. This is going to be trouble. Damn.

  “Calm down, Doc. I’m just going to wash her up and dream like a greedy motherfucker.” Zeke waves the baby monitor at us as he disappears into the house.

  Eden flops back in the lounger. Her hair is flowing down the back. Jesus. I’d love to grip that hair and settle in for the night.

  She doesn’t say a word, just stares at the stars for a long-ass time. We sit in silence. I have never felt so much peace in my life. Dealing with reality isn’t one of my strong suits. I drink, work for my club, and find anything else to get myself into. But this time on the open highway following the truck with guns, my mind did nothing but fight reality.

  Eden hiccups then lets out a little giggle, distracting me from my thoughts. Her eyes are growing heavy. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let her sleep out here.

  “Hey.” I place my palm on her thigh. �
�I’ll take the couch. You can have the guest bedroom. I’ll get it ready for you.”

  Eden rolls her head until she’s staring at me and grins. The girl is pissed drunk. She won’t have that smile on her face in the morning when she’s hurting like hell. I force myself to get up and head inside the house. I don’t fucking waste time or dick around in there. Not sure why I have this unsettled feeling about leaving her outside. I know Zeke’s house is locked down tighter than the fucking state penitentiary; that’s precisely why her ass needs to be inside.

  After tossing an ugly, flowered quilt on the couch, I kick off my black boots, make my way outside, and reach back tossing my shirt to the ground. The fucking night air is suffocating me. Feeling trapped is my one phobia that has the ability to paralyze me. I stride right back to the patio. Eden’s arms rise then slowly fall down to her side.

  My vision darts to the pile of clothes on the ground then back to her. She stretched out on the lounger on her stomach with her feet kicked up where your head goes and her elbows propping up her chin.

  I bite down on my knuckles when I realize I’m staring at the globes of her ass peeking out from her panties. A spark of light catches my attention, so I take a few steps closer, and that’s when I see her perfect, fuckable lips wrap around the end of one of my cigarettes. I grip the back of my head, tamping down the monster in my pants threatening to punch through. Jesus fucking Christ, those lips and my cock. Holy hell. My slice of heaven.

  She takes long pulls on the cigarette, exhaling the smoke into the night air. My own personal pin-up girl.

  “It fades and disappears in the deep dark night just like Wilder did.” She turns her head. “You know what I mean?”

  I take another step toward her, making sure to keep enough distance from giving my hand permission to spank her tight little ass. This is not the time or place to be thinking about her ass or her pussy underneath those silk panties, no matter how rock hard my dick is. Thinking that shit doesn’t help a damn bit. Ain’t no matter, though, not when he is hard as fuck.

 

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