OWNED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Blood Warriors MC)

by Naomi West

  Daria stepped forward until she was standing right beside me and placed a careful hand on my shoulder. Damn. She knew I couldn’t resist her touch.

  “Please,” she begged. “For me?”

  My eyes were narrowed with rage at Cameron, my vision still filled with hatred, but her voice was still managing to get to me. I still couldn’t contemplate letting Cameron go, I really couldn’t. Years he had spent planning to kill my father. Years he had spent lying to everyone and pretending he was a good guy.

  He’d fooled me for so long. He’d manipulated me. He made me try and kill someone who was twice the man Cameron would ever be. Most importantly, he’d almost made me lose Daria and that was something I could never forgive.

  “Please,” Daria said again and I felt my entire body soften.

  Daria. It was always going to come down to Daria. I would lose her forever if I pulled the trigger, nothing would convince her that I wasn’t a cold-hearted killer after that point. I was so close to doing it though. After months and months of wanting it, I could finally get my revenge. My father could finally rest in peace.

  “What would your dad say?”

  What would Dad say? I was avenging his death and I knew he would be pleased about it. His brother had brought about his death. Who wouldn’t be pleased when justice was finally meted out?

  I couldn’t remain quiet and pretend that what I really wanted wasn’t my father to come down the hall, capture my gaze like he’d so often do, and tell me he was proud of me. Just once. Just so I knew that he didn’t regret bringing me into the world, raising me and letting me go off as I did.

  And Dad would be proud of what I’d done today, I was sure of it. I’d sought out the truth and presented it to the club so that there was evidence of Cameron’s crimes. Now none of them could ever turn it around on me and say I was crazy or power hungry. Just vengeful, and vengeful I could deal with.

  Yes, Dad would be happy. Dad would be … well he wouldn’t be grateful. That was too strong a word. He wasn’t the biggest fan of ‘unnecessary’ violence. If it could be dealt with in an easier way, then he’d prefer it.

  But Dad’s first thoughts were always about the club and so were mine. I was protecting the club and saving them all.

  I frowned. Deep down I knew that the club wasn’t really the main factor in my decision to go after Cameron. In fact, it wasn’t even in the top three.

  Was this what Daria was trying to say?

  Had I really convinced myself that Dad would be happy about turning me into a murderer? Was it really about my father anymore, or was it just about me?

  What would Dad think if he was watching now, knowing his death had ripped apart the club and his only son was about to kill his baby brother. No matter what Cameron ever did, Dad was always the first one to forgive him, the first to make excuses for him. Dad loved Cameron and had taken care of him his whole life, something that made Cameron’s betrayal that much worse.

  “Is it really your dad that you're trying to please?”

  Those words had me rocking back on my feet. Who was I trying to please? No one was the first answer that came to mind, even though it was a lie. Was I trying to please my dad? Yes, but he wouldn’t be. Not at this. I could admit that now. That only left Cameron, but that was just wrong. Wasn’t it?

  Cameron had drilled me since Dad’s death with advice and principles and things I should do in certain situations. He’d ingrained in me the motivation to go after my father’s killer and keep going until they were dead. Well, now that pursuit had brought me to him, did he still want me to finish the job?

  Daria was getting closer and closer to the truth. It was amazing how she could read me like she did.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” Daria said softly.

  And I didn’t want to lose her. If I did this I could never be with her, I’d never see her again. That was something I wouldn’t be able to deal with.

  I slowly lowered the gun so that it was no longer pressed against my uncle’s temple and trained it on the floor instead.

  The club was still surrounding us, all looking on stoically. I turned to them, standing as tall as I could and looking each and every one of them in the eye.

  “Will anyone testify? Will anyone confirm what they heard Cameron say today?”

  There was a small moment’s pause before a hand went up. It was Mack, of course, always the first to volunteer, even if it meant betraying his role as Cameron’s vice president. I supposed that Cameron had never really counted as a president anyway. Mack had looked wrecked for days when he’d learned about his son’s betrayal, but he was standing by the club like he always had.

  Another hand went up and then another. Mark and Liam the twin brothers who were born into the club and never wanted to do anything else. More hands were going up. And then more still. Soon enough, every single hand in the room was in the air. I scanned every single face in the room and all of them looked back at me with the same expression; trust.

  They were all with me, every single one of them was willing to stand by me, and I would be forever grateful for that.

  “Someone call the police.”

  With no means of escape, Cameron didn’t put up too much of a fight as we tied him up and sat him in a corner until the cops arrived. He knew there was no hope for him now. Frankly, he was lucky to be alive, though nobody expected him to get up and thank Daria for saving him. She didn’t do it for him anyway. She did it for me, a realization that warmed my heart.

  Daria leant against me, head against my chest and arms wrapped around my middle.

  “I’m proud of you,” she said lovingly.

  Maybe I’d never hear those words again from my father but somehow Daria knew how much they meant to me and granted them to me freely, something that meant especially more at a time like this.

  At that moment, mere minutes after I’d listened to her and buried my notions of revenge, she proved to me that it was all worth it. It would always be worth it for Daria.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Daria

  Roses were always my mother’s favorite. Not the red ones, she hated those. ‘Too cliché,’ she would say. Red roses were for bad first dates and Valentine’s day. She didn’t like the white ones either; they were too pristine and reminded her of her debutante years. Yellow roses, on the other hand, were perfect. “They’re always overlooked,” Mom would say as she placed them in a vase time after time. Yellow roses were not so extravagant and gaudy but simple, humble, innocent. Yellow roses, in my mother’s firm opinion, let someone know that you cared about them, that you truly, deeply and honestly cared about them, but you didn’t need to show it in an overwhelming way.

  Those were the flowers Rocky and I laid on her tombstone every month. I’d like to think that wherever she was, she’d look down at them and smile, knowing I was happy and still thinking about her. After all, that was all I could hope for anymore.

  “Are you ready to go?” Rocky asked me, leaning down to plant a kiss on my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into it a bit further, savoring the sweet contact even though he gave me plenty of affection and often. I would never tire of the little things with Rocky; the soft kisses, the loving touches, the sweet smiles. They were the best parts of my day now.

  “I think so,” I said. “Yeah, I am,” I continued more decisively. It still surprised me every day that I was moving on with my life, living in the moment and taking it day by day, but doing it happily.

  I bid my mom a final goodbye, something that didn’t haunt me as it once did. I wasn’t at the stage where I was completely okay with her absence yet. Some days were harder than others, but I was getting there. It was easier when I was with Rocky. He let me talk about her whenever I needed to, just so I’d never forget all the many memories I cherished of her. In return, Rocky would talk to me about his dad, which was something he was still getting used to. I insisted on it though, knowing it would help us cope, and it was.

  It was now Rocky’s t
urn to say goodbye and he repeated the same thing he did every time he was here; he kissed three of his fingers and touched them gently to the top of the tombstone.

  “Thanks, Corinne,” he whispered.

  Mom had done a lot for us. Rocky and I both knew that her sacrifice was the sole reason we were together and we would never forget that or take it for granted.

  Hand in hand, Rocky and I walked out of the cemetery, more at peace with the world and each other than we’d been in our entire lives.

  It had been a long time since Mom’s death – almost eighteen months, now. And things had changed drastically in that time.

  First and foremost, Cameron Weston had been sentenced to life in prison, unsurprisingly to all the members of the Satan’s Wings. He’d confessed in front of the entire club his plot to get rid of his brother and showed no remorse at any time. With so many people able to testify against him, he stood no chance. It still infuriated me that he never apologized or tried to repent through his entire case.

  I was glad he was finally out of our lives, though I knew Rocky was still hurting over it. He’d had a gun pressed up against Cameron’s head, ready to pull the trigger, but I knew deep down it would have killed him to do so. It didn’t matter what anyone, even Rocky, tried to say about the matter, Cameron was family and no matter what he did that would never change. It was never going to be easy for Rocky to get over the fact that his uncle had betrayed his brother and nephew but Rocky was healing. Healing the right way and that was all that mattered. We both just needed time before everything would even begin to seem like it was normal again.

  I’d like to think we were helping each other heal, though. I’d moved into his apartment recently, though that was something that took a lot of convincing.

  “Move in with me,” Rocky declared one night after a passionate time in bed.

  I’d laughed at first. “Are you serious?”

  “Daria, you’ve been living out of your suitcase in the hotel for months.”

  I sobered up pretty quickly when I realized he was serious.

  “But we’re so young.” It was a flimsy excuse, one that we both knew I didn’t believe at all, but I didn’t know what else to say at the time.

  “We haven’t been young for a long while, Daria.” As usual, Rocky was right. We loved each other, we’d been through hell together, why shouldn’t we move in? When it came down to it though, I wanted to be with him and a little decision like where I’d live didn’t seem worth the pain of being apart.

  We spent most of our time at either the shop or the club now anyway, so living together didn’t seem as daunting as it originally did. The Satan’s Wings had undergone a massive change since Cameron left. It was better now, safer and happier. It was hard to explain but all the members were a lot closer now, a lot more open. There were meetings every week, a lot of them about mainly nothing, but it kept the communication going. A lot of people had moved back into the clubhouse, since Cameron had wanted everyone out of there while he was president.

  It was always busy when we were there. Chaotic but in a good way. Many wives and kids of club members stayed at the clubhouse more and more now, and weren’t afraid to be associated with each other. You’d walk into the compound and see kids mucking around, parents hanging out, food everywhere and smiles on everyone.

  I said to Rocky one day, “It’s like we’re a big family now.”

  Rocky smiled a bittersweet smile. “That’s the way it was always meant to be.”

  It pleased Rocky to no end when he spoke about the club and what changes had been made. The biggest change of all, though, was with Rocky himself.

  After Cameron’s arrest, everyone had come together and voted for a new President. It was unanimous. Rocky had been so shocked when they’d turned to him and said they’d like for him to take over his father’s club. He was hesitant at first, not wanting to take over and grow bitter in the position, not wanting to be responsible if he couldn’t salvage the club. It was the word ‘father’ that made all the difference, though, knowing that the club was behind him and his dad and were disregarding everything that Cameron had wanted.

  Rocky had agreed eventually and promised then and there to all the club members that things were going to change. Whether or not anyone believed him didn’t matter, because in mere days, he had already started changing things. Rocky was taking his job seriously, restoring the name that Satan’s Wings once had was no easy task but with every passing day he got closer and closer to his goal. He had the whole club behind him as well.

  The truce between the Satan’s Wings and the Nightmares was the first big change that made people stop and take notice. Apart from it being much appreciated by both clubs, it was also heavily appreciated by the townspeople. No more club rivalries was good news all round. It wasn’t uncommon now to find Nightmares staying at the clubhouse if they were passing through and vice versa.

  That was what made Rocky most happy, knowing he’d helped create peace between two rival clubs, something his dad would have been proud of.

  My head was so filled with reflecting on all the wild twists and turns of the last month and a half that I hadn’t even heard Rocky waking up in bed next to me. It wasn’t until I felt his warm exhale on my neck that I realized he was up and looking at me.

  I twisted around to meet his eyes.

  “What?” I said teasingly. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… you know. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

  He smiled with his eyes – that stupid, beautiful smile that made my heart do backflips every time I saw it. “No, I don’t, ma’am,” he said with mock seriousness. “You’ll have to explain.”

  “Like you want to eat me.”

  His smile broadened a notch. Pearly white teeth. Those eyes, flashing, twinkling, teasing. God, I wanted him so bad these days. Every little thing he did made me warm and wet and hungry for his touch. I bit my lip. He always loved when I did that.

  One eyebrow raised, he said, “Hmm. Now that you mention it, maybe I do.”

  “No, wait, don’t,” I started to protest, but he was already gone, slipping below the covers. I felt him move between my legs, and any further objection was whisked out of my mouth as soon as his tongue brushed across my thigh.

  “Rocky…” came the hushed moan from between my lips. He murmured something I couldn’t hear and licked a little higher.

  I remembered suddenly that I hadn’t worn panties to bed the night before and my heart rate ticked up a bit. His tongue slid higher, licking the crease in my hip. His hands were warm, caressing my thighs and sliding beneath me to cup my ass and lift me towards his mouth.

  I looked down, hoping to see his shining eyes. But that was harder these days, given how big my pregnant belly had gotten.

  A baby – we’d never planned on it; it was just one of those things that happened. Not unlike everything else that had happened from the moment Rocky and I had met. But just like that first conversation, that first kiss, the first time I’d felt his touch on me and in me – we went along with it. Soon, we’d have a little bundle of joy to coo over. I couldn’t wait to meet him or her. Son, daughter, it wouldn’t matter. I just wanted a little one to love. Rocky did, too.

  Just as thoughts of our baby swept across my mind, I felt one of Rocky’s hands move up to rub gently across my stomach. It felt like… like love. Love made real. Love made solid.

  And Rocky’s tongue moving closer and closer to my wet pussy felt like fire itself.

  “Rocky…” I moaned again. He grunted wordlessly, squeezed my ass once, and licked me from top to bottom.

  It was like all the breath had gotten sucked out of my lungs. How was it this good, every time, even after all the time we’d spent naked, exploring each other? How was every touch so heavenly?

  It didn’t make sense. But I didn’t want to question it.

  So I gave in.

  He lapped at me again as he moved a hand
to my entrance and carefully swirled a fingertip around as he took my clit into his mouth.

  That familiar flame had started to build up in the pit of my stomach. I knew what it meant – I needed him inside me.

  I reached down and grabbed his chin. I pulled him up, loving as always the way his bulk slid across my skin. His muscles were taut and bulging. He wasn’t wearing any clothes, I noticed with a wry grin.

  I tugged his mouth to mine to lick my own taste off of his lips. The kiss was hungry and open and deep. I felt his cock rising stiff between my legs. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

  How amazing was that?

  “What is it, babe?” he teased.

  “I need you,” I whimpered.