by Sophia Gray
Placing the bowl down on the counter next to him, she looked at him. “Lucas…” She paused, not sure how to proceed or if she wanted to. “I…this…it’s not working.” There. She said it. Her insides clenched, and she was pretty sure she was going to throw up, but at least she’d gotten the words out.
“What exactly isn’t working?” If possible, his voice dipped lower, became softer as he moved to stand in front of her, placing his hands on the counter on either side of her and effectively trapping her.
She wanted to scoot away, put distance between them, but he knew that about her already. In such a short period of time, he’d gotten to know so much about her that no one had ever taken the time or desire to learn before. “This…us.”
“Why?” He leaned closer to her, and she could smell the faint scent of leather from his well-worn kutte. He hadn’t shaved. Stubble covered his face, giving him an even more menacing look. As though the man needed to look more dangerous than he already did.
“It’s just…well…” How was she supposed to think with him hovering so damn close? “My mom needs me, and I’ve been spending more time away because I’ve been with you.” If her mom could hear her spewing the line of bullshit, she’d smack her.
His gaze grew hotter, and his nostrils flared a bit with his quickened breath. “That’s bullshit. Your mom has the best care, ’round the clock. You see her every day. That’s not it, so try again. And this time, the fucking truth.”
“What’s going on with Clay and his club?” She sidestepped the issue, just for a second. Hoping to prove to at least herself she was doing the right thing.
He pushed away from the counter, running one hand through his hair. “Nothing. The club voted down his proposal to do business.”
“What sort of business?”
“The sort you and I don’t talk about.” He raised an eyebrow.
She shook her head. “See, that’s what I mean. There’s a whole part of you I don’t get to know about. Is this how it is? We come home at night, and I ask how your day went, and I get a one-word answer because you can’t fucking tell me?”
“One, watch your mouth. Two, not everything is off limits, just club business.”
“Right. The part of your job that you can’t talk about, but I have to watch my damn back because of.” She shoved away from the counter and picked up the pasta bowl. Stomping to the fridge, she ignored his confused look and tossed the bowl back in the fridge. “I’m not hungry anymore.”
“What do you mean you have to watch your back? Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?” He was at her side, pulling her into his arms.
“No, I mean, yes, but it was nothing. It opened my eyes is all. You’re dangerous. Your life is dangerous, and I’m having a baby. This baby has to come first.”
“You’re having my baby. And that little guy does come first. And you.”
“Not when the club’s involved,” she said quietly.
“What happened?” It wasn’t just a question; it was a demand.
She’d heard that tone before, knew it meant he was reaching the end of his patience. “I ran into Clay yesterday at the mall. Literally, ran right into him when you were trying to call me. I was digging in my purse and wasn’t watching where I was walking.”
“Wait. What? I thought you didn’t go to the mall. Cherry said she couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“I never got a call from her.” Josephine shook her head. “I just stopped to get a pair of pajamas for Mom. I ran into him, and he walked me to my car.”
“What?” he growled and stepped back from her, clenching his fists at his sides. “All of it, tell me everything.”
She sighed and shook her head. “Don’t go off halfcocked.” She pointed a finger at him. “He just walked me to my car, said he didn’t want anything to happen to me.”
“What else?”
Blowing air out, she blinked a few times. “I don’t remember everything. I was scared, Lucas. He was holding my arm and wouldn’t let go. He kept talking about safety and making wrong decisions. I was only half listening.”
“Fuck.” He kicked his foot backward into the cabinet door, almost breaking the pressed wood. “Why didn’t you call me? Why did you cancel dinner?”
“I went to Mom’s. I didn’t want to see you. I wasn’t sure what to tell you or what to do. I can’t be responsible for some sort of war between you guys, and I don’t want to get caught in the middle. Your world is dangerous, Lucas. Too much for me. Too much for this baby. So, we have to stop before it gets any more serious.”
“Stop?” He looked at her with wide eyes, then his lips cracked upward into a smile, and he started laughing. “Babe, you don’t get it, do you? You are my world. You are part of everything I do. No way this is over. No way we stop.”
“You don’t make that call.” She fisted her own hands, tired of his bossiness. He couldn’t keep her trapped in a relationship if she didn’t want one. “I told you from the start, no expectations.”
“And I told you, you’re mine. End of story.”
# # #
When he got his hands on Clay, he’d squeeze his throat so fucking tight, his eyes would bug out of his fucking head. That bastard had the balls to touch his girl? To threaten her? Fuck, no. Fuck that. He was a dead man.
First, he had to contend with his stubborn lady. She really thought she could just shoo him away? If he thought for one second she really wanted out, really wanted nothing more to do with him, he would walk. It would fucking break him, but he would do it. At the very least, he’d give her some space.
# # #
Josephine’s eyes filled with tears, either from frustration at his stubbornness or fear of what would happen if he actually meant what he said. It didn’t really matter what caused them, he didn’t like seeing her so damn upset. Clay was a dead man. He signed his own death certificate the moment he put a hand on Josephine. Walking her to her car or not, he touched her and he threatened her. Fuck yes, the man would die.
“So, you’ll just keep hounding me if I say no? If I say I don’t want to see you anymore? How is that better than Clay?” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, stopping the tears before they fell down her soft, flushed cheeks.
“Josephine, I know it’s hard to not be in total control. You have no control over your mom’s condition, and you have no control over my club. But you have a huge say in what happens between us. I don’t talk club business with you because it’s not a worry you need to have. You need to concentrate on your mom, on our baby. I’ll take care of the rest of it. It’s not your load to carry.”
Her eyes narrowed on him. “What if I want to help you carry that load? I can’t, right? Because I’m a woman and only good for a fuck?”
“Where the fuck do you get this shit?” He tried to contain his anger, but her attitude was wearing him down. “I never said word one about women having no value.”
“No, but that’s the MC life, right? A woman becomes an old lady, gets her property patch, and she’s to sit down and shut up, only to be seen and not heard. Isn’t that right?” A hot anger flashed in her eyes.
“In some clubs, yeah, that’s the way it is. Not my club, not my life.” He pounded his fist over his captain patch. “Yeah, our women wear property patches. It’s a symbol; that’s it. It means she belongs to him, but it fucking means he belongs to her, as well. It’s protection for her. No one will fuck with her once she’s got that patch on.”
“So, the guys in your club, they’ll fuck with me until you’ve branded me?” Her hands pumped into fists at her sides. She was so worked up, she wasn’t sure she was even listening to what he was telling her anymore.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He let out a ragged sigh. They weren’t talking about the real issue, and he needed to find out what Clay was really after. “It’s a tradition. To some clubs, the women are just there for fucking and serving drinks. In our club, it’s not like that. No, we don’t have women members,
but we treat our women with respect. The club loves every fucking one of them. They aren’t something we sell or trade for. We don’t use them and abuse them, and we sure as fuck don’t abandon them when they’re carrying our kid.”
“That’s what this is all about. The baby. Just another possession to you. That’s all it is.” He wondered if she even knew what she was saying anymore, her eyes were wild with anger and worse—fear.
“I can’t tell if you are purposely trying to piss me off or you really don’t get it. I am with you because I want to be with you. The fact that our baby is what brought us together means nothing. Even without the baby, I’d still want you; I’d still love you.”
She opened her mouth but snapped it shut, blinking a few times, as though his words were a slap. Her features softened and new tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away this time. “You what?”
His lips curved, and he felt the tension roll out of his muscles. He knew that’s how he felt. Hell, the woman never left his fucking mind. When he wasn’t thinking about her, he was talking to her. He’d been with plenty of women, but none of them could hold a candle to Josephine. None of them deserved to even be in the same room as his Josephine. Of course he loved her. He’d never felt it before, never even thought it possible, but he loved her, and there was no fucking way he was letting her ditch him when he finally found someone he could say that about.
“I said I love you. Because I fucking do.” He took a step closer to her. “So, you can forget this shit about us ending things.” He took another step, and when she didn’t back away, he took another. “Do you understand me, Josephine? Do you get that this is how things are—you are mine, and I’m yours?”
She gave a slow nod, as though she didn’t even know she was making the motion. He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight to his chest. “I’m not wearing a property patch,” she mumbled into his chest.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, you won’t. You don’t have to. I don’t want you to. I want you just like you are, untouched by my club or any other club. Plenty of members keep their private life separate from the club. Not everyone brings their wife into their club life.”
The only sign that she heard him was a slight nod. “I still don’t think this is good—us, I mean. What if Clay goes after you? What if you get killed?” She pulled away from him, wiped her face, and folded her arms over her chest.
“Clay won’t come after me. He wants the club, not me.”
“But he’s already trying to use me to get to you. I’m not that naïve. I know what he was doing in that parking lot. It will only get worse once he finds out your club isn’t taking whatever he offered.”
“You’re probably right about that.” He looked around the kitchen. “It’s not safe for you to be on your own anymore. You’ll need to come live with me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I won’t give up my life.”
“It’s not giving up your life; it’s living it, with me.”
“Because it’s too dangerous for me to live on my own?” Her eyes narrowed again, and he knew they were going back down the wrong path. It didn’t get by him, either, that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. He’d let that go, for now. She had a lot going on in that head of hers that she needed to sort out. And at the moment, he needed her to come with him willingly, otherwise they weren’t going to be getting anywhere near the place she needed to be to understand that she loved him, too.
“No, because I can’t protect you if you’re on your own. Clay won’t come after you. He’s not going to come looking for you, but I want you where I can see you. Where I know you’re safe.” He reached for her again, but she stepped away.
“That’s what I mean. I am not some shiny toy for you to protect and cuddle.”
“Trust me, babe, the last thing I want to do with you right now is cuddle.” His tone had deepened; his patience had run out. Her wide eyes told him she knew it, too. “Right now, I’m giving you five minutes to pack a fucking bag and get back down here. I’m taking you home. I’m not saying you have to quit your job or you can’t see your mom. I’m saying you are staying in my fucking house so I can keep an eye on you. I don’t want any more chances for Clay to get near you.”
“He can get near me at work. I ran into him at the damn mall.” She shouted at him. The bit of fear he’d seen in her eyes was long gone. He felt almost relieved at that. Anger he could deal with. Fear made him want to kill everyone around them to keep her safe, to make her feel safe.
“Then I’ll have one of the guys hang out at your work and escort you to your mom’s after work.” His teeth were clenched, and if she didn’t start moving, she’d just end up going naked the rest of the week because he wasn’t going to pack for her. He’d just snatch her up in what she was wearing.
“Lucas.” The pleading was in her voice. The way her tone softened, the way her eyes warmed up to his—she wanted her way and was going to play the lost puppy look with him. It wouldn’t work. Not on him.
“Go. Now. You have ten minutes.” He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, turning it to her so she could see the timer ticking away. “When this goes off, whatever you have in a bag is what you take. Get going.”
“You’re being impossible,” she argued.
“I’m being me.” He shrugged. Softness wasn’t working with her. Trying to coddle her wouldn’t get him the cooperation he would need from her in the future. Odds were Clay wouldn’t seek her out. He hadn’t initially, but once he received word that the vote didn’t go his way, who knew what the asshole would do? And he wasn’t taking any chances when it came to Josephine. “Nine minutes.” He pointed to the timer.
She glared at him but turned and stomped her way to her bedroom. He didn’t follow her to help. Instead, he stood in the kitchen doorway listening to her mumbling all sorts of cuss words. Turned out his girl knew quite a few more than he thought. And he’d been called way worse than a SOB, so he let her rage all on her own so long as heard the drawers opening and closing.
When there was only a minute left, he went up to her room to carry the suitcase down for her. She was sitting on the bed pouting, the suitcase next to her. “As sexy as you look with that pout on your face, it won’t change anything. Come on.” He hauled the suitcase off the bed and waved for her walk ahead of him.
She didn’t say a word, just walked down the stairs, grabbed her jacket, and went for the front door. He wasn’t sure which war he was dreading more, the one with Iron Rebels or the one in his own home.
Chapter 14
Josephine sat beside Lucas in his pickup, not talking to him. Instead, she focused on trying to find out how everything got so damn messed up. Her plan had been to break it off with him, not move in with him!
She’d lost track of the conversation somewhere, probably when he told her he loved her. Love—what the hell did a biker like him know about love? She’d seen the girls at the clubhouse, seen the way the men leered at them and catcalled them. The whorehouse in the back of the lot spoke volumes, as well. How many times had Lucas frequented that establishment? He probably didn’t need to, when he had girls like Cherry ready to drop to their knees at any given moment to suck him off when he wanted it.
No, his declaration of love was only another manipulation, a way for him to get what he wanted from her—the baby. She should have known better than to think a man could just get her pregnant and walk away. What sort of man would do that anyway? She hadn’t been thinking clearly. With her mom’s illness and her own clock ticking, she’d acted out of emotion and not reason. And now she and her baby would pay the price.
Lucas wanted them because they were possessions, just things that belonged to him. And what was his stayed his. He didn’t share, and he sure as hell didn’t give away.
The truck stopped at a red light, and she kept her focus outside on the sidewalk. Before the light turned green, a motorcycle rolled up beside them. She recognized the patches; the rider was a Fury Rider
. When he turned to look into the truck, she realized it was Cutter, but the bleach blond straddling him from behind wasn’t Cherry. Cutter raised a fist in greeting, which she assumed Lucas returned. Once the light changed, Cutter roared off, yelling into the wind along with the girl’s screech of excitement.
“That’s not what it looked like.” Lucas answered her unspoken concern.
“Not my business.” She shrugged. She didn’t believe him. Of course he would stick up for Cutter. They were brothers, not by blood, but not any less brothers because of it.
“That was Cindy on his bike. She’s friends with Cherry. He wouldn’t do that to Cherry, not when he made her is old lady.”
The truck drove through another intersection. The street lamps illuminated the cab of the truck as they drove along. “Whatever. Like I said, not my business.”