by C. M. Marin
My first reflex is to send Melvin, but I know Cam will be on her way back inside herself before I get the command out, so I swallow my pride, drop a kiss on her lips and comply.
I jog back inside, grab the pile of napkins and stride back out, eager to go back to her. But when I see her laughing with Alex, the soft sound flying into the air, my steps halt on the stairs and my gaze lingers on her smile.
She’s radiant. Never saw a more gorgeous girl.
A week ago, she finally let me claim her body, and I’ve done it again every night since. Sometimes during the day, too. I’d have her under me all day if that was possible.
“Careful, you’re almost smiling like a chick cooing over a cute puppy.”
“Fuck you.” I toss a glance at Jayce, who is standing beside me, apparently also coming from inside, but the growl I meant to get out is mixed with a chuckle I can’t suppress.
“Seriously, you and her… She’s special, isn’t she?”
Had it been anyone else asking, another fuck you would have followed. But I know Jayce isn’t asking that to give me shit.
“Don’t know how that happened, but this girl is mine. Though I don’t think she gets it just yet,” I admit, looking ahead where she’s busy serving pieces of cake to everyone.
“She wouldn’t still be here if she didn’t want to.”
“She knows the Spiders want her, that’s enough of a reason to stay,” I remind him.
He snorts. “She still isn’t the kind of girl to hook up with random guys.”
No, that she’s not.
“But her past, it’s… Not sure I can compete here.” I’m the one snorting now. “I’m so out of my league, it’s making a dent to my ego.”
“The dead fiancé?” he guesses.
“The guy was a fucking pilot flying tourists around. Probably one of those welcome-ladies-and-gentlemen-look-at-what-beauties-our-magnificient-Earth-has-to-offer guys. A life full of butterflies and shit.”
Of course, Jayce laughs.
“Shut up,” I groan, but once again I choke on my own laughter.
Damn, I’m fucked-up.
At least, club business has been running smoothly.
“Maybe he was,” he retorts. “But it doesn’t change the fact she wouldn’t be here getting to know everyone if she didn’t want to.”
Nodding slightly, I tell myself that he has a point. Though it’s not the easiest thing to believe. She’s too perfect to want to be near a guy like me.
“Let’s go get some cake before the kids and Ben stuff down every last piece,” he pats my shoulder.
Silence takes over the table as everyone savors their food. All the members and old ladies are here, along with their kids, though most of the kids are now more teenagers than young children.
“I’m done. I ate too much,” Cam sighs beside me, a hand on her belly like she became obese because of just one lunch and a few small pieces of cake.
Setting my own fork on the table, I get closer to brush her ear with my lips. “That body’s still gorgeous enough to make me hard, don’t worry.”
She rolls her eyes. “Thanks for the reassurance, I’m so relieved to hear that,” she shoots me a brash smile.
That smile has me hardening more. “You’re lucky there’re kids here today, otherwise you’d be hanging over my shoulder already and on your way to being fucked real good behind the building,” I drawl and draw back to take a proper look at her face.
She cocks her head, then grunts, “Quit that, I don’t blush.”
Yeah, no blush. Dammit.
“Maybe, but I felt those shivers, baby,” I muse.
“Mom, can I have a beer?”
Cutting through our little exchange, a wave of chuckles rises around the table at Jonas’s question, although the boy’s expression is deadly serious.
“What about my hand in your face?” Brent retorts around a mouthful.
“What your dad just said,” Fiona agrees. “But you can be nice and go get some more apple juice inside, honey,” she adds, earning a deep depressed exhale from her son.
He stands anyway, mumbling something about how not fun his parents are, I think.
“I’ll come with you,” Cam says, quitting her own chair.
“Are you going to help him or are you going to help Melvin clean up?” I suspect her.
Melvin left us to take on the dishes chore only a couple of minutes ago.
“I am going to take some candies I promised to the kids, that’s all. And if I come across some glasses that need to go to the dishwasher, I accept no responsibilities for what my hands could do,” she admits before rushing away.
“I like her,” Fiona says when Cam is out of earshot. “You should marry her, she’s awesome.”
I almost choke on the bite of chocolate cake I just stuffed into my mouth.
What in the hell?
Everyone snickers, except for Ben, who is of course the only one laughing without restraint.
“You only say that because Jo got a few good grades in math,” Brent accuses her. “Though she really is a nice girl,” he adds.
“Absolutely not,” Fiona contradicts. “She’s nice and interesting and thoughtful. And the grades Jo got were very good. Not only good. She’s awesome, keep her,” she insists.
“Dad,” Chloe calls out to Brent from the other side of the table, and I silently thank her for stepping into this awkward conversation before Fiona goes as far as planning a trip to the mall for a suit.
“What, princess?”
“The gate,” is her only concerned answer, and all gazes shift to it instinctively.
A few feet away from it, Spiders are standing with their eyes on us. They’re unarmed, but we all shoot up, chairs falling as we pull our guns out reflexively. A reaction pushing them to pull out their own weapons.
Women and kids move fast to run inside without having to be asked, and my brothers and I carefully approach the gate.
My thoughts veer off to Camryn for a moment. A sick feeling spreads in me at the thought of her being hurt, but I’m sure Alex or anyone else will brief her on what’s happening and tell her she can’t leave the building until one of us says so.
“Alex, fucking go inside,” Liam commands in a deep warning.
Jayce seems to notice she’s moved with us instead of following everyone else inside at the same time I do. Despite not saying a word, his body visibly tenses as he uses it as a shield to protect her, just like Liam does.
What is she thinking?
Just as Melvin joins us and Cody hands him a gun, I focus on the men who must be aware they’ve made a fucking mistake coming here.
“You could have found an easiest way to get yourself killed,” I taunt the vice president of the Spiders, surrounded by a crew of four men I don’t recognize.
CJ’s lips twitch barely on one side.
That guy is some twisted fucker. Rod took him in when his former VP died, beaten to death after leaving some strip club seven years ago.
“We both know you won’t shoot anyone right outside your door, so let’s skip the bullshit, shall we?”
“Don’t know what your problem is, but you should know damn well you have nothing to do here, so unless your president wants a war, he should think about keeping you on a leash tied to a nice little tree in his garden next time you have a smart idea like rolling up here unannounced,” Blane suggests.
As his nostrils flare, rage is clear and dark on CJ’s face, but he makes a good job of swallowing his pride and ignoring Blane’s humiliating jab.
“Problem is, you didn’t really leave me the choice,” he says. “You’re locking away what’s mine and I’m here to make things clear. I’m getting her back.”
Jesus. Twisted fuck.
“Let me make things clear, too. I don’t know why you want her, but whatever it is, you can go fuck yourself.”
It’d be stupid to let him know we’ve been suspecting their nauseating business for quite a while now.
&nb
sp; “What I want is simple. It’s her I want. Camryn’s mine.”
Ice runs through my veins at the way her name leaves his mouth. It’s personal. Almost intimate. It’s imperceptible to anyone but me, but my finger twitches on the trigger. There’s something in the way he said her name. I just can’t put my finger on what it is.
“What the fuck do you want?” Jayce growls.
“Just said it,” he clips out. “Camryn has been mine for quite a while. She belongs to me and my club, and I’m starting to lose fucking patience. Just here to warn you. My prez will get in touch, but there’s only one way to solve this without bullets flying. You let my woman go.”
What in the fucking hell is his mouth spewing?
Chapter 17
Camryn
I’m barely back outside, ready to spoil the kids with too much candy, when my pace comes to a halt at the bottom of the few steps.
Running kids fly by me, followed closely by the women who were chatting and laughing only a minute ago, when I left the table. Urgency now rules their actions, a veil of concern clouding their faces.
“Come back inside with us, Camryn.”
Fiona grazes my arm with her hand as she rushes in behind Chloe, probably certain I’ll be on her heels instantly, mimicking everyone without asking questions. But the questions are racing in my head faster than everyone sprinting by me. And the answers can’t be anything good.
Fear for Nate’s safety abruptly eats at me. I don’t know any details about what’s suddenly happening, but the reality of what kind of life Nate lives here crashes down on me as my gaze travels over to a group of guys standing on the other side of the gate. The five men are built with wide shoulders, each one of them looking scary with his stretched-out arm holding a gun aimed at Nate and his brothers. No need to have a closer look at their cuts to know who they are.
Spiders.
I’m not sure what to do. Nate would want me to walk back inside and wait for him there. He’d want me safe. The problem is this spine-chilling voice in my head ranting about how I’m going to lose sight of him and not getting to ever see him again if I turn around now.
Hesitation still clings to me when my feet take their first step forward without asking for my permission. They move me toward the gate extremely slowly, though, my eyes fixed on the third Spider they come across.
It…
“Camryn, go back inside,” Melvin commands as he whizzes by me to reach the gate only a handful of seconds later.
I keep walking, though at a snail’s pace. Nothing else but the gate matters to me as both groups of men exchange words I can’t hear. Every new step that brings me closer to them tells me I’m not hallucinating.
Those features, this hard jaw that sometimes would be covered with a subtle stubble, these light, sparkling brown eyes, this chestnut brown hair… They haunted my dreams for the longest time. Ironically, I loved those dreams, even if waking up to the reality every next morning was like a cold shower threatening to bring me to my knees all over again. But what I used to see at night isn’t what I’m seeing now. That jaw I touched so many times seems harder, and those brown eyes seem darker than the ones I was accustomed to. It’s all so familiar, but so foreign at the same time. I’m afraid to understand what this means, though the cut that is wearing the man I wished for so long to have back beside me leaves no room for the smallest doubt in my mind.
My stomach tightens violently while banging against everything close to it at the same time.
I’m going to be sick.
“Oh, God.”
The tremulous words burst out of me, and I take a deep breath afterward, dizziness ready to hit me.
Apparently, I’m now close enough to the unbelievable scene playing in front of me, because Nate heard what I thought was a murmur, to which he answers with a more audible warning.
“Stay back!”
His command is firm, almost barked, but I can’t obey it. A couple more steps bring me right beside him, and if I don’t go farther, I can’t go back either. My eyes don’t leave the ghost I’m seeing right here, in front of me. He’s right here. I’m aware of the guys’ presence around Nate, just as Alexia’s. But he is all I can see.
“Colin.”
His name tastes like bitterness on my tongue. He hasn’t even spoken yet, hasn’t even explained anything, but a powerful hate is already swelling inside me. I wish it were the sound of that hate flowing out of my voice, but it’s not. His name comes out unsure. Strained. Broken, even.
“Colin?” Nate repeats.
The glance he sends my way burns the skin of my face, but I can’t bear to meet his eyes when mine are wet with tears I don’t even try to suppress when they leak.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
The whisper I address Colin sounds stupid as it echoes loudly in my own ears.
I can’t…
My eyes close briefly as the barely eaten pieces of cake keep fighting their way back up. I can’t deal with this. This is too much. There are too many questions that need to be asked and too many memories that don’t fit with the picture in front of me. I can’t even explain the fact I’m still standing, because my legs lost all sensations a while ago.
“It’s a long story,” Colin retorts matter-of-factly.
Those are the first words he says to me.
It’s a long story.
I’ve gone through hell this past year mourning him, and that’s what he says to me, almost dismissively, as though I don’t deserve at least a couple of minutes of his precious time to understand why this is happening right now. And there’s this tone I don’t recognize. It doesn’t sound like him. He doesn’t sound like himself. This voice coming out if his mouth isn’t his. His was joyful and relaxed. Almost colorful. This one is cold and sharp, just like his behavior, and most of all, just like his gaze on me.
I had never been scared of him, but I am now. The man in front of me scares me. But it doesn’t keep me from asking, even with a surprising harshness and an ounce of sarcasm, “Why aren’t you dead? That shouldn’t be so hard to explain, don’t you think?”
“I faked the crash.”
No remorse. No regret. No compassion. No emotions at all. He states a fact.
Jesus, this man isn’t my fiancé. I don’t know who he is, but he isn’t my fiancé.
My newfound strength already crumbling, I whisper, “Why? I don’t―” I start, not understanding a thing that’s happening here.
Colin doesn’t find it necessary to let me express my deep confusion, though, because he cuts me off. “Like I said, it’s complicated. The important thing right now is that your father wants you back, and so do I. You’re coming with me.”
What… Is he high? There must be something to explain what’s wrong with him, at least. Or maybe I’m the one who’s high. Maybe this is not real. Maybe this comes directly from my imagination. That’s the most logical explanation to this nonsensical alternate universe playing in front of me. Maybe if I close my eyes and open them back, this insanity will have disappeared, allowing me to realize I’m just losing my mind because of the stressful weeks I’ve had.
But I can’t close my eyes while guns are pointed at us. And it’s not my imagination anyway. Deep down, I know it won’t disappear just because I briefly lose sight of it all. He’s here, in the flesh. My fiancé is back from the dead and wearing the cut of an MC that kidnapped me, reduced my house to ashes and damn near raped me.
“You’re crazy. My father is dead, too,” I mumble what he already knows.
I could have let the too slip, obviously, but my brain is trying to process and handle too many things at once for me to keep my thoughts straight.
“Your adoptive father is, not your real one. My prez is waiting for you to come back. It’s time,” he says.
The small step he takes in my direction forces me to take one of my own back even though I know that the gate is locked, just as it always is.
“What the fuck are you talking abou
t?” Nate growls the question I’m now too lost to voice myself.
“I’ll repeat that for you,” Colin answers in a bored, contemptuous tone. “My president is her father, and he wants her back. You don’t have a say in this, Bowers. She’s his, and mine. You just let her go.”
“I don’t want to go.”
My words are rushed and coming out as a plea. Panic settles in my stomach as I try to process what nonsense Colin is saying about my biological father. I also struggle to disregard the fact that he’s talking about me like I’m some sort of merchandise you can grab and move around however you want.
So many nights after Colin died did I pray for him to come back to me. I sent numerous, ridiculous, useless prayers to God, begging him to give me Colin back. And now he’s here, and I’m silently praying for him to vanish again.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Nate assures me in a resolute tone, as much for my sake than to make things clear for Colin, I think.
“CJ, maybe―”
“Shut the fuck up!” Colin barks to his friend, and the beefcake with tattoos snaking up his neck actually shuts up.
Sweet God… I have no idea who this person is.
“Who are you?” I ask the man I was in love with but am now repelled by the mere sight of.
My hands are damp with sweat, and several knots are bouncing brutally in the pit of my stomach, pushing the dizziness even closer to the surface.
All along, he lived this double life. All along. Every day was a lie. Every night. God, I don’t even want to think about what kind of skank shared his bed all those weekends he left LA to supposedly replace a pilot in San Francisco or anywhere else. He kept lying to me. And whatever he’s now saying about my biological father, it can only be a lie, too. My father isn’t that kind of man. It can’t be the truth.
“I can be the man you knew if you don’t resist me,” he answers the rhetorical question I breathed out with tenacious shock, hauling me back to the moment.
What’s that supposed to mean? I’m on the verge of passing out in front of everyone.
“That’s enough!” Nate barges in with a roar that rings out forcefully. “You get the fuck out of my town or I’m going to end you right here! That’s a fucking promise!”