Angel's Halo: Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4)

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Angel's Halo: Reclaimed (Angel's Halo MC #4) Page 15

by Terri Anne Browning


  Hawk’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the loophole?”

  “If Morgan died before Gracie married, the money would automatically revert to her. The old man is dead, Hawk. Of natural causes. All Jenkins has to do is act on her behalf and show the lawyers his death certificate. The money is hers. She deserves it after what those bastards did to her.”

  “She’s not Morgan’s granddaughter. Craig Morgan wasn’t her father.”

  I shrugged. Hawk had mentioned something like that yesterday to Ciro, asking about a paternity test. I hadn’t thought much of it then, and I didn’t care now. “Who the fuck cares? She had to put up with his abusive ass for years. Had to watch her mother get beat by the bastard. Then the old man snatches her and tries to marry her off to an evil sonofabitch. If anyone deserves that money, it’s Gracie.”

  “Yeah. You’re right.” He raked his hands through his hair and turned to walk over to the vending machine. He pulled out a dollar from his pocket and punched a few numbers. I frowned as I watched him bend to retrieve whatever he’d gotten. When he straightened, he had a honeybun in his hands. “Maybe she’s hungry,” he muttered to himself.

  “Hawk…what do you want me to tell Jenkins?”

  “Tell him to do what he has to do. I’ll give her the money as a wedding present.” He gave me a weak grin as he headed for the door. “It’s about time I wifed that female.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Felicity

  Poor Gracie was sick for three days before the antibiotics started doing their job. By then she was weak and pretty pitiful. It showed me a new side of Hawk, though. A side I didn’t even know he had. He was tender with her, so loving. He held her hair when she threw up, he wiped her brow when she was soaking wet with sweat from her fever. He held her close when she slept and held on to her like he would never let her go.

  It was petty to feel jealous of a sick girl, but I was.

  Not of Hawk’s relationship with Gracie. I would never think of him like that, never love him in other way than as a brother. No, I was jealous of the way the biker treated his female. I’d always wanted that. Craved it. To have the man I loved take care of me like that, to hear those three little words he repeated to her over and over again that brought a special gleam to her brown eyes.

  After Westcliffe’s beating I’d been in the hospital for over a week. He’d done some internal damage that had required surgery. The loss of my unborn child hadn’t been the only thing that he had taken from me that night. I’d lost my spleen and a foot of ruptured intestine. Over that week, Hawk stayed with me. Colt and Raider had come to visit just as often as Raven had.

  Jet had remained absent.

  I found out later that he had gone off the deep end when he found me unconscious. I’d been broken, bleeding, and nearly dead. He’d thought I was going to die, knew even then that our baby was gone. There had been too much blood for him to not know that the baby was gone. It was much later, though, when I found all of that out. After he’d beaten Westcliffe to death, after he’d avenged me and our baby.

  But as I’d lain in that hospital room, crying myself to sleep while the nurses pumped powerful painkillers into me, I’d felt abandoned. I’d wanted him there, holding my hand. Wiping my brow. Kissing my cheek and whispering that it was going to be okay. That he loved me and we would get through it. Together. It didn’t happen, though. Hawk had been the one to hold the bucket when I’d cried so much that I’d thrown up. Hawk was the one who had wiped my brow, his jaw clenched and his fists balled up as he watched me fall apart.

  So yeah, I was a little jealous of Gracie right then, but I didn’t let it show.

  During the day, I stayed at the hospital with the others. Where Jet went, I went. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight. At night I went back to my aunt’s house and slept in Jet’s arms. We made love over and over again, barely getting any sleep each night. Before I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, he would tell me he loved me and I would pretend to be asleep.

  That wasn’t the only time he said those words. He told me at least once an hour, every hour, like he was timing himself and keeping up with how many times he said those damn words. Each and every time, my heart would stop—savor those them as they washed over me—but I never acknowledged them. I didn’t believe him when he said them. I didn’t understand why he was saying them now, anyway. They weren’t necessary and I honestly didn’t want to hear it.

  If anything they pissed me off.

  Hearing “I love you” from Jet Hannigan was a dream I’d once had. Ah, hell. It was something I still dreamed about. But only if it was true and I knew that it wasn’t. He couldn’t.

  Could he?

  No, of course he couldn’t. Didn’t. I scoffed at the mere thought and chided myself for hoping—if just a little.

  Gracie was better now. She hadn’t completely gotten her strength back, but thankfully the sepsis had cleared up and after two weeks in bed at home, she’d finally gone back to work—something Hawk wasn’t pleased about in the least. She’d spent over two weeks in the hospital and when the doctors had finally released her, Ciro had let us use the Vitucci jet to get home in. I’d been sad to leave my aunt, but I knew I belonged back in California. In Creswell Springs.

  I’d always belonged there. It was home.

  It was getting easier and easier to be away from Emmie and her family now. The pain of missing them was a dull ache, but I only thought of them a few times throughout the day. Raven had kept me busy from the moment we’d gotten back from Connecticut, and with both Lexa and Max fighting for my attention, missing Mia and Jagger wasn’t nearly as bad.

  With Lexa off to preschool and everyone else gone to work since the lockdown was over, it was just Raven and the baby with me this morning. My friend ran around the kitchen cleaning up after the tsunami that was the Hannigan house after everyone had eaten breakfast.

  Max sat on my lap as we watched his mother finishing up the dishes by hand. It was weird for me to see Raven so domesticated. She’d never taken care of everyone before I’d left. Motherhood had changed her, in a good way, and I liked it. This new Raven was still hard as nails, but she was softer too. More openly affectionate.

  “How was Ciro?” she asked as she set the last pan in the drainer and wiped her hands on a dish towel.

  I pressed my lips together as I thought back on the little bit of time I’d actually spent with my cousin over the last two weeks. “Busy,” was all I could come up with to explain how he was. “Apparently being a scary Mafioso street soldier for Vito Vitucci is a busy job.”

  Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Raven sat at the table across from me. She had a slight gleam in her green eyes and I swallowed a groan. “Did he mention me?” she asked mischievously.

  I rolled my eyes at her and lifted Max in the air enough so that I had to look up into his eyes. Bash’s eyes. “Did you know that your mother nearly caused a war, Max? Hmm?” Max giggled like I was telling him a funny joke that cracked him up. “She was seventeen years old and using my favorite cousin to get back at your big, scary daddy. Mr. Mafia Man and Daddy nearly killed each other.”

  Raven grinned. “There was never a threat of war, Flick. Stop over-dramatizing it.”

  I didn’t look at her, but continued to talk to Max, who blew spit bubbles at me as his fingers reached for my hair. “Okay, not a war, but a very nasty fight. Better?”

  Raven laughed softly. “Yes. Better. We want to keep to the facts, babe.”

  “So one day Mr. Mafia Man shows up to take care of a little business with Uncle Jet. Mommy was at the clubhouse that day and Mr. Mafia Man was instantly intrigued. Your rotten mommy seemed interested too, but we both know that she didn’t think it would be serious. She loved Daddy even back then.” My eyes flicked to Raven who was grimacing but nodding, then looked back up at Max. “Daddy just happened to be around too, and saw the way Mr. Mafia Man and Mommy…flirted...with each other.”

  “Flirting was all it ever was, Flick. You know
that.”

  “So, while Mommy and Mr. Mafia Man were making cow eyes at each other, Daddy had to sit back and pretend he wasn’t bothered by what he saw. But Auntie Flick knew. Probably Uncle Jet too, the way he laughed about it when it was all over.” I lowered Max enough to kiss his cheek and then lifted him again so he couldn’t tangle his fingers in my hair. The roots had grown out in the last month and I was still on the fence about dying it again or not. Jet hadn’t said if he liked it or not and I was torn between wanting to please him—and wanting to piss him off. “Now, Mr. Enforcer had a bad temper. Something I’m sure you have inherited, kid.”

  “Yep,” Raven agreed.

  “Mommy went to dinner with Mr. Mafia Man, and Daddy, who was the enforcer back then, followed them. What Daddy didn’t know was that Mr. Mafia Man would have never touched Mommy the way Daddy was apparently having nightmares about.”

  Again Raven nodded. “Ciro is a good guy. Plus…I think he liked someone else.”

  I shrugged. “I still think that. Actually it looks like something more than just like.” Especially after what had happened back in New York. I didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed at my cousin for what he’d done…

  Max let out an unhappy cry and I grinned up at him. “Want me to continue the story, little guy?”

  He blew more spit bubbles at me and I figured that was his way of saying yes.

  “Mr. Mafia Man took Mommy to dinner. Daddy, not liking what he was seeing, followed them. He became a real creeper and watched them through the window while Mommy and Mr. Mafia Man ate and talked.” I shook my head at the memories. It was amusing to think about how obsessed Bash had been. How totally in love with Raven he’d been, even then. “One day, Max my love, you will learn the most sacred rule in the Club: No one touches Raven. By then I’m pretty sure it will extend to Lexa and any other sister or cousin you might have. Back then, it was a rule your daddy took to heart and enforced wholeheartedly. So when Mr. Mafia Man touched Mommy’s cheek—”

  “It was only to wipe away a little smear of whipped cream from my dessert,” Raven mumbled.

  “—Daddy got a little hysterical and burst into the restaurant and knocked Mr. Mafia Man through the window. The fight that followed was one that the MC brothers still talk about with awe. No one, not one single man, could have taken the beating your Daddy dished out that night, but Mr. Mafia Man got back up and went back for more. He was like a machine. Nor could they believe their eyes when they saw how bruised and bloody Daddy was the next day.”

  “It did turn into a blood bath pretty quick,” Raven agreed. “Jet didn’t know whether to laugh or yell when he showed up to talk to the restaurant manager and pick me up.”

  “Mr. Mafia Man returned to big, scary New York and refused to deal with anyone other than Uncle Jet ever again. He still won’t acknowledge Daddy’s promotion to president.” I rubbed my nose against Max’s, making him giggle. “But Daddy got the prize in the end, so I guess he can be the bigger man. He got Mommy and you.”

  I sat there cuddling and playing with Max for several more minutes. I was so lost in holding the little guy that I didn’t notice how quiet Raven had gotten. It was only when she spoke that I realized how troubled her thoughts had become.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby, Flick?”

  I tightened my hold on Max so I wouldn’t drop him as my eyes closed in pain. During my time away with Emmie and her family, the hole that had been in my heart since the death of my baby had healed until it was the size of a small pin prick. I was sure that that little hole would never fully heal. How could it when I’d wanted and loved that precious little baby from the very second I found out it was growing under my heart?

  The pain I heard in Raven’s voice only added to my own. When I opened my eyes to meet her gaze, I expected to see betrayal in her eyes for not confiding in her about my pregnancy. All I saw was confusion and pain…for me. “I…” I broke off and shook my head before trying again. “You were going through so much, Rave. You were missing Bash and hurting so much. I didn’t want to add to it with my crap.”

  “I’m sorry, Flick. So damn sorry.” Tears glazed her eyes and she blinked them back quickly, but a few escaped anyway. “I was a horrible friend to you. Selfish and so caught up in my own shit that I couldn’t see how much you were hurting. You and Jet had lost so much and I couldn’t open my eyes long enough to see how much you were both suffering.”

  I reached across the table and took one of her hands in my free one. When I squeezed her hand, she squeezed back. “Do you remember when you were sneaking around with Bash? Do you remember how exciting it was to keep that secret? To know that it was just you and him in some kind of a secret paradise?”

  She frowned, thinking about it, and then nodded. I gave her a sad smile. “That was how it was when I was with Jet. For a while at least. The baby was a part of that secret paradise and it felt like if I told anyone—even you—about it then it would be like losing it all over again. I wanted to hold on to the secret paradise for as long as possible.”

  Raven’s hold on my hand tightened. “I understand that, Flick. Really, I do. But if you had talked to me about it I could have helped you. I know I couldn’t have taken the pain away completely, but if you’d had someone to confide in—someone to help you mourn the baby—maybe you wouldn’t have felt like you had to run away.”

  She was right. If I’d confided in her, then maybe the pain wouldn’t have gotten so out of hand that I had felt like I’d only two options left. To kill myself to get away from the pain… or to run away from it. I was glad I’d run away instead of taking the easier route. It was only now that I could see how much pain and destruction I would have left behind if I’d ended my life.

  “I’m sorry, Rave. At the time my head was all kinds of messed up. I felt like no one wanted me—needed me. Like I was just sitting around taking up space in your lives.” I pulled back and rubbed a hand over Max’s back. Holding the little guy brought the kind of peace I’d only found when I’d held little Jagger. Neither baby would ever be a substitute for the baby I’d lost, but it did make it easier to think about my unborn baby with something that wasn’t as heartbreaking.

  A shuddery breath left Raven and I lifted my head to find her wiping away a few tears. “I never felt like you were just taking up space in my life, Flick. Club life is a hard one—it makes you hard. At times its full of coldness and the kind of darkness that nightmares are made of. All my life there has only ever been one person who gave me the sunshine when things got too cold, the light when things got too dark. That was you, Flick. It will always be you.” She shook her head and almost angrily wiped at the tears that continued to fall down her beautiful face. “So don’t you dare ever think that you aren’t needed here. That you aren’t wanted. I love you, we all do. I don’t…” She stopped, swallowed hard several times and blew out a tired sigh before continuing. “I don’t want to feel the way I did when you were gone. Not ever again. I need you in my life. I want you in it. You’re the soft to my hard and I think a part of me would die without you.”

  My own tears were flowing freely now. “Rave.” I breathed her name and she clasped my hand in her own once more.

  Neither of us spoke again for a long while as we sat there, me absorbing everything Raven had just said while she seemed to push some of her strength into me through our clasped hands.

  After a while our tears dried and Max started to whine. He was hungry and needed a new diaper. Raven took him up to the nursery to change and feed him before putting him down for his nap. Needing a few minutes to myself, I remained in my chair at the kitchen table.

  Up until my talk with Raven I’d honestly thought that I wasn’t needed in anyone’s life. Now I could look back on it all through her eyes and see that I’d been wrong. I’d just been too hurt—and yes, angry—to see that I had an entire family to support me through the tragic loss that had nearly crippled me mentally and emotionally.

  I hated that
I had hurt Raven and the others when I’d left, but I couldn’t really regret running away. I’d found the peace that I’d been aching for as well as new friends that would always hold a place in my heart. I had healed and gone on a few crazy adventures with a family I’d grown to consider my own.

  I grimaced at the thought of Emmie and her family. I still hadn’t talked to her. I honestly didn’t know what to say. She’d called my cellphone at least a hundred times over the last few weeks, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. The voicemails she would leave told me that everything was going better. The Feds still had no clue who had tried to take Mia and shot Gabriella Moreitti. At least Mia was doing better now, though, putting the nightmare of her near kidnapping behind her. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember much of that time when she got older. Maybe. Gabriella was doing well too, now that she was able to move around more.

  In Emmie’s last voicemail she’d said that maybe they were on their way home. “I wish you were going with us, Felicity,” had been the last thing she had whispered before she’d ended the call three days before.

  I wasn’t as torn up about not going home with them as I might have been when I’d first gotten back to Creswell Springs, after Jet had blackmailed me into returning.

  The phone on the counter started ringing and I pushed away from the table to get up and answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hey, love.” Instantly my panties grew damp and my heart twisted in my chest at the sound of Jet’s deep voice. “Are you busy?”

  “N-no,” I murmured, licking my suddenly dry lips. “What’s up?”

  “I’m almost done doing inventory. Would you like to go out tonight?”

  Something about his voice melted me and I couldn’t understand it. He sounded almost…shy. Tender even. Had Jet ever been those things? Maybe tender a few times—maybe—but never shy. Of course, he’d never asked me to go out before either. Maybe he figured I’d turn him down. “What did you have in mind?”

 

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