Biker Daddy (A Rogue Tide Motorcycle Club Romance)

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Biker Daddy (A Rogue Tide Motorcycle Club Romance) Page 18

by Nikki Wild


  Tusk grabbed my arm, holding me back. In the chaos and the blindness of my own rage, I saw Daniil crouched beside Lucy's body, calling someone on the phone. I saw Train stalking across the room towards me. I saw the old man who'd shot Alexei, walking through the crowd like Moses through the Red Sea, only to plant himself down on a chair that hadn't yet been destroyed.

  "Get your ass outside, Sinner," Train shouted. I don't know when he got close enough to be in my face, but he was. "What the hell were you thinking? Who the fuck is that?"

  "Train, I need..."

  Fuck everything, and anything. She was hurt. She way lying there on the ground, bleeding out. I stepped forward, trying to get past Train's massive body.

  "You need to do what the fuck I told you," Train said. Everything was falling apart - and I didn't mean the house, though it wasn't looking too great. Without anyone fighting back, our boys were congregating at the back of the house. Whatever violence had been erupting, it was over now. We'd keep our end of the deal, since it was obvious that Daniil had kept his.

  But I needed to get to her.

  Daniil was shouting in Russian to his men. As I watched, two of them stepped forward, and picked her up. She was limp in their arms. Fuck. Some other men holding her, even if she was passed out and bleeding while they were doing it, made me want to shoot.

  "Sinner!" Tusk shouted in my ear. "What..."

  "That's my old lady," I said, pointing to the body that was being carried from the house. Daniil caught my eye and walked towards us. Train noticed this, too, and turned sideways, putting one hand out to stop Daniil from getting too close. Train's eyes bored into mine.

  "What the hell are you talking about? That's why you nearly fucking shot Army?"

  Army. Where was he. Shit. Shit. This was fucked - so fucked, in every way. I just needed to get to her. I just needed to get to wherever she was going.

  "How long you been sleeping with the enemy, Sinner?" Train accused.

  "It doesn't matter," I spat. "I need to go to her. She's fucking shot, man."

  "And you're lucky you're not!" Tusk said, pulling on me. "She doesn't need you right now, man, her family's got her taken care of."

  "She'll be at Vernon Methodist," Daniil said, realizing that he had bigger fish to fry than watching me get reamed out. "Meet me there. Bring Alyona."

  "Good fucking idea," Train spat, pushing me towards the back, towards where our healthy men were carrying our wounded. Towards Army, wherever he was. Towards everyone who'd just seen me raise a weapon against my own brother.

  Fuck it.

  "We're gonna have a long fucking talk about this shit, Sinner," Train said, walking behind me like Daddy following his son down the school hallway after a visit with the principal. "I don't want you around the club right now. Too fucking dangerous - for you. Ride behind us, I'll bring the girl out to you. Go see your 'old lady'."

  The way he said it had my teeth grinding and my fists pulsing. Tusk cast wary glances around us as we got nearer to the men, those who hadn't yet gotten on their bikes and ridden away. I knew what it must be like, being led to the gallows, as Train and Tusk flanked me through the crowd and out the now-useless back door.

  "Roll out, everyone, get back to the club," Train hollered. "We did what we came here to do, and everything else is on me and Pony."

  "What the shit just happened, Train," Hoff demanded, unwilling to let us pass. "Sinner, what the hell was that?"

  "We're figuring that out, Hoff," Train spat. "Don't talk about it, ride it off. Someone get Doc on the phone, have him meet us."

  Outside, I had to watch every man I called brother walk to their bikes and ride off. Except for those who couldn't walk, or ride. I had to watch them get carried out and hauled into cages, where they'd bleed all over the seats and...

  "How long, Sinner?" Tusk asked, standing right beside Train, in front of me and my bike.

  "A while," I said. "Long enough that I couldn't..."

  I didn't need to say it. They got the fucking picture. Train kept shaking his head, like he couldn't fucking believe it. Well, maybe he couldn't. I sure couldn’t believe it. Daniil appeared in the back doorway, with its blasted-open hinges. It looked like he couldn’t believe it, either.

  He motioned for Train. They had a lot of talking to do. Train seemed reluctant to leave me - like he thought I'd make a run for it. And that hurt. Where would I go, anyway? My loyalty had never been questioned before, I'd never given anyone any reason to question it.

  Now, I'd given them nothing but reason to doubt me. To think I'd turn on them. Because I had. I fucking had.

  But not her. She could still trust me. She had no reason to doubt me. And that, at least, was right. That, at least, felt true. I needed to be at her side like a bird needs a nest to come home to. I couldn't remember why I ever thought she'd betray me. All I knew was that she hadn't.

  The last man out of the house was Army. And his eyes fell on me immediately, by chance or by magnetism. He looked empty inside. He looked as empty as I felt full. I knew I should drop my gaze, I knew I shouldn't match him eye for eye. But I did, because he deserved that. I held my hands up, palms out. It was over.

  He walked to his bike and rode away.

  "Leave it, man," Tusk advised. "Let's go. Shit..."

  My Indian purring beneath me didn't soothe me. Only one thing would, and it was on its way to Vernon Methodist with a bullet in its leg.

  Chapter 36

  Lucya

  The first thing was the smell. It smelled cold. White. Antiseptic. My mouth felt like it was full of iodine and cotton balls. Somewhere back in my memory, I thought about Amy. Telling her I ate cotton balls. She'd looked so damn cute, trying to figure it out...

  "I think she's waking up."

  I knew that voice. Knew it like I knew my own heart. I couldn't open my eyes fast enough - though they felt weighed down.

  "Aly?" I heard myself croak. I blinked a few times. I heard a distant beeping. Felt the cold scratch of a crappy blanket.

  "Lu," my sister's voice was closer than the beeping. She grabbed my hand. I came awake all at once. And remembered just as fast.

  "Oh my God," I said, whipping my neck towards her. "What happened? Where's..."

  The question died on my lips as I saw the figure standing behind Alyona. He looked grim and relieved at the same time.

  "Sinner," I moaned. Alive, for sure. Like a leather-clad Lazarus. Seeing him brought fast tears to my eyes. He came forward, careful not to push Aly out of the way, though I knew he kind of wanted to. He put his hand on my head, leaned down and planted his lips on my forehead. He held them there for a long time as I closed my eyes and let his warmth consume me.

  "I'm sorry, Lucya," he said, pulling away, hand still on my head. I was vaguely aware of an itch on my thigh, the scratch of gauze and bandages. But I didn't feel much pain.

  "For what?" I asked, forcing a smile. "Sinner, I thought you were dead. I thought..."

  "And I thought you were..."

  He didn't finish his sentence, just shook his head.

  "I'm just sorry, is all," he said. "Baby, it's fucking good to see you. Jesus...it's the best, babe."

  I laughed, lifting my hand to scratch at his stubble. We had a lot of explaining to do - to each other. But right then, it was enough just to be together again, and know that we still wanted to be together. I remembered, now, how he'd threatened the man who had me at gunpoint. That must have been hard for him, and he wouldn't have done it if he didn't...

  "Sorry to interrupt this little love cruise," Alyona said, snapping my attention back to her. "But there are other ships in the harbor."

  "Aly, where were you?" I asked, dropping my hand, focusing on my sister. "You were safe, right? Daniil told me, but when the fighting started, I was so scared..."

  I didn't miss the glance between Sinner and my sister. And the weight of it. Clearly, there was something they knew that I didn't; and I suspected that they wanted to keep it that way. I felt a pre-
emptive annoyance at this conspiracy between them.

  "She was watching Amy," Sinner answered. Unlike Aly, I couldn't really tell if Sinner was lying. I narrowed my eyes, looking at them in turn, waiting for Aly to break and spill the beans.

  "I was nowhere near the fight," she insisted; at least, that wasn't a lie. But she changed the subject pretty fucking quickly, all the same. "You know, you're kind of a pussy. We talked to the nurse out there. That bullet barely even grazed your thigh. And Sinner here told me you fell over like a dead tree."

  I looked down at my bandaged leg. It really didn't hurt, but I'd assumed that had something to do with the IV drip. I figured they'd given me morphine.

  "Really?" I said. "I guess it was just the shock of everything. Aly, what's going on at home? What's happening with Deda? Where's Daniil?"

  "Present." Daniil's voice came from the doorway. He stood there, looking grim as always. But also looking different, in some indescribable way. Of course, he was Vor now. Maybe the difference was this new weight. The gravity of his life had changed very quickly. It's hard to really prepare for something like that, even when you've been preparing for it your whole life. "Sinner, I'd like to speak with my sisters alone."

  "Excuse me?" Sinner bristled at my side, and I read the challenge in his eyes. My heart rate increased a few paces as the energy in the room sparked. Daniil stepped forward, with all the commanding aura of a Vor. He would make a good one, that much was clear.

  "It's time for you to leave, Sinner," Daniil said.

  "We had an agreement, Daniil," Sinner growled. An agreement? All this shit that had happened behind my back, while I was locked up in that stupid room...I needed to know what the fuck they were talking about, but there were bigger things happening just then, more important than filling little old Lucya in on the details.

  "Yes, and I wasn't lying. We - I - do appreciate it. More than I can say. And as for you and my sister..."

  Daniil didn't quite wince as he gestured to me, but it was something similar.

  "...I have no desire to keep you apart. Except for now. Right now, she needs to be with us. With her family."

  "He is my family, Daniil," I said stiffly, my heart beating a little faster as I watched Daniil and Sinner face off.

  "Don't," Daniil warned, throwing a pointed finger in my direction without taking his eyes from Sinner.

  "Sinner, I think you ought to just go," Alyona offered quietly, standing beside him. "Daniil is right. We need to discuss the future of our family."

  She meant the future of The Family. I understood it. Lover or not, Sinner wasn't a Maximovich - he didn't have the privilege of sitting in when we talked about what would happen now. To Daniil, to Deda, to all of us.

  Sinner looked at me, finally breaking his staring contest with Daniil.

  "What do you want me to do?" he asked. It was an impossible question. I just got him back. I wanted him to lay down beside me and never leave. A lump rose in my throat and I opened my arms, beckoning him back to my side. He gave Daniil one final look as he came toward me, leaning awkwardly to meet my embrace in the hospital bed.

  "I'll come to you soon," I whispered. I only knew I was crying because of how his cheeks grew wet with my tears. "As soon as I can."

  "I love you, Lucya," Sinner's words swirled in my ear, and I closed my lips around his flesh for one second, tasting him again.

  "I love you, too," I murmured, finally letting him go. He backed out until he was in the hallway. Didn't spare a glance for Daniil or Alyona, his eyes only fixed on me. At last, though, he turned and walked away.

  This time, though, I would see him again. I knew I would. After all that had happened, I had to. Life couldn't be that unfair, could it?

  Chapter 37

  Sinner

  Train looked angry. He also looked confused, and sad. He sat at an angle, facing away from me, like he couldn't stand to look at me full-on. I didn't blame him. When I thought about what I did, I could barely stand to be in my own skin.

  I'd have killed for Lucy. I would have done it in a heartbeat. But after I did that, I wouldn’t be around much longer. If I had taken Army out, the way I fully meant to, I would have had a bullet in me thirty seconds later. If not from one of my men, then from my own gun.

  The Tide doesn't turn against itself. I was a brother, and I turned my weapon on my own brother. Whatever mercy was given to Cain, I wouldn't want it. I'd had a whole 24 hours, and then some, to ruminate on everything. If Train didn't take my patch outright, I might just hand it in.

  "Why?"

  The question was less obvious than it seemed. By then, everyone knew about Lucy and I. They knew about the romance I hid behind their backs, they knew that I'd been lying to them for a month already. That wasn't so bad; I wouldn't be the first Tide to have an old lady no one knew about, and I probably wouldn't be the last. But she was a Maximovich. That made her a big problem.

  And that was before you even counted in the whole threatening-to-shoot-Army thing.

  "I love her, man," I said. It was the only thing I could say. It was the truth, the kind of truth that burns your heart up to cinders. But fuck the truth. It was a messed-up truth. This wasn't the sixth grade, and Train wasn't going to give me points for honesty. "I didn't know she was one of them. Not until it was too late."

  "When was that?" Train growled. "Before, or after you laid pipe?"

  "Man..." I said. "I know. I fucked up. I just..."

  "You just. You just what, Sinner? You just love her? Yeah, I got that. You already told me that."

  I ran my thumb over my lips, shifting my legs. Train drilled his fingers against the desk, looking out into space again.

  "Would you have done it?" He asked. "Would you have shot Army?"

  "What was he even doing with her?" I deflected. "I mean...he could have been fighting with us, but he was kicking down doors, looking for girls to shoot?"

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" Train said, calling me on my bullshit. "He was trying to make up for it. You know, he doesn't say it, but it's killing him. Knowing that he caused all this trouble. He figured, if he could stop it, he'd redeem himself. And what'd he get? His own fucking brother, staring at him down the barrel of a gun. And besides all that, you hid her from us. And you’re the one who convinced us to go on that raid, but you had an ulterior motive none of us knew about. It could have killed us all, because you wouldn’t ‘fess up about your lady!"

  "I know," I groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't know what I'm saying. I can't...I don't have any excuses. Would I have done it? Yeah, I think I would have. It felt wrong, man, but so did watching him with my woman. His hands all over her, gun to her fucking head. What would you have done, if it was Boots?"

  Train looked at me out of the sides of his narrowed eyes. His nostrils flared, then he looked away again.

  "We know Boots," he said. "No one would do that to my girl."

  "Yeah, but if they did?"

  "This isn't winning your case," he said, suddenly turning, hands flat on the desk, staring me down. "You fucked up. You fucked up bad enough that any other man wouldn't be sitting here talking to me about it. He'd be picking his teeth off the curb outside, with a big-ass hole in the back of his jacket. It's only because you've been riding for us so long, and you're a good fucking man. That's what's so shitty. You're the best of us, Sinner. Steady as a goddamn rock. Put your ass on the line without even being asked. You took that bullet in your gut, a week later you're leading the fucking charge."

  It hurt my head, listening to Train talk like that. Being a Tide was everything to me. Had been since the day I turned 18 and got my prospect's patch. I'd killed for this club. I'd thrown my lot in with the devil for this club. I had this club to thank for my daughter. I had this club to thank for everything. Except her. And why the fuck did she have to go and eclipse everything? Why did that woman have to be so fucking beautiful, so fucking smart? I hated her for being so good. I hated her for making me go blind. I hated her for makin
g me love her so fucking much.

  I hated her for being the one I would choose, every time. Even sitting there across from Train, knowing he might make me choose, the club or her, I'd choose her.

  "I don't want to take your patch," Train sighed. "And I don't know what the rest of the guys want. Honestly, talking to them, I don't think they know what they want, either. No one's calling for your blood, but that doesn't mean we just let you get away with this."

  "I know," I said, nodding my head. "I know."

  "I've gotta think on it," Train said. "Until I do that, until I make a decision, you don't come around here. You don't talk to anyone. Not Tusk, not Spit, no one. Alright?"

  "Yeah," I said, nodding.

  "Especially not Boots," Train added as I began to get up, a tint of panic in his voice. Like he knew what his old lady would have to say about the whole thing. I had to bite back the ghost of a smile; if anyone was going to be on my side, it was Boots. Woman was a sucker for romance. Something told me Train would not be asking for her advice, but she would probably be liberal with it, anyway.

  I let myself out, leaving Train to decide my fate. Leaving the clubhouse would put me right through the heart of what had recently become enemy territory. The bar wasn't quite packed, but when all eyes turned to me it felt that way. The familiar faces distorted into something unfamiliar, no one really knowing how to react to me. Shit, I didn't know how to react to me.

  Lucy was getting out of the hospital in a few short hours, and would be coming to my place. I wasn't sure what I'd tell her, if anything.

  "Sinner," Hoff said, nodding to me and then turning back to his beer. Boots, behind the bar, was the only one who tried for a smile, and it was a pretty sad excuse for one. The rest of the men took Hoff's lead, either nodding to me or just turning away like I wasn't there. Or like I was there but hadn't recently done a full-body impression of Benedict Arnold. Tusk, sitting beside the door, actually made eye contact with me.

 

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