WITHOUT SHAME: Babylon MC Book 4

by James, Victoria L.

  This time, he carried me from the shower to the bed wrapped in a towel that he used to dry and tease my body with. There was no violence left in us, just adoration and a need for one another that never seemed to dissipate. I never wanted it to.

  We made love and passed out tangled in one another, and for the first time in weeks, I slept deep and well with the man I worshipped lying next to me.

  * * *

  I woke up alone the next morning, but there was a vague memory of a kiss to my forehead as the sun began filling the room, as well as a whispered admission of love before I fell back asleep. This was reinforced by the fullness that seemed to surround my heart, and the smile I couldn’t seem to get rid of. Gone was the ever-present sense of dread and fear that had followed me around like a shadow.

  Life wasn’t perfect. It probably never would be but having Drew by my side meant whatever nightmare was thrown at us next would be a little easier to face.

  Then I remembered he still wanted to marry me.

  Soon.

  My smile spread like the sun at dawn, and I rolled into his pillow and buried my face there, breathing him in until he was all I could smell. I wrapped him around me and held all of the hope I’d somehow regained even closer. In one night with him, weeks of anxiety and panic had finally eased off, and my world was slowly starting to turn again.

  I sure wasn’t leading the charge for feminism with that kind of thinking, but when you were this deep in love—when you were this surrounded by the things you wanted most in life, did that really make any difference?

  Nope.

  Not even a little bit.

  Especially not when my body was aching so delightfully from the night before.

  I could have basked in the memories for hours, but in The Hut, peace was subjective to the goings on at any given time. Today wasn’t going to allow me what I wanted, and that came in the form of a knock.

  “Who is it?” I called out, pulling the comforter over my body and glaring at the clock next to the bed.

  “Kenny.”

  “Is it urgent?”

  “Depends.” I could hear the smile in his voice, but that didn’t leave me any less confident. His idea and my idea of urgency were utterly different.

  “Five minutes.”

  “You got it. I’ll make some coffee.”

  “Perfect. Thanks, Kenny.”

  I listened to the heavy fall of his boots move away from the door until they blended into the constant din of noise that filled The Hut every hour of every day, and I peeled the blankets away from my body with a sigh of resignation.

  It didn’t take me long to get ready. A quick shower, a brush of my teeth, and I was padding through the bar wearing my usual jeans, a tank top, and a hoodie before slipping onto a stool and making grabby hands at the mug Kenny was holding out for me.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  I wrapped both hands around the mug and slid it to me with a grin of my own. “Good morning.”

  “Good?”

  “Are you about to ruin it for me?” I asked, inhaling the scent of coffee before taking a sip.

  “Possibly. Sloane called me from school.”

  I groaned and made a hand gesture for him to continue.

  “We have a problem.”

  “Tate?” I asked, sliding the mug onto the counter and covering my eyes.

  “Nope.”

  “Rubin?” I asked, peeking between my fingers.

  Kenny shook his head.

  “Then who?” I dropped my hands and glared at him.

  Kenny’s smile just grew. He was actually enjoying this. “Libby.”

  “Libby? She’s not even in high school.”

  “She was there all right, and from what I understand, she was confronting a girl Tate was flirting with.”

  I took a moment, picking up my coffee and taking a mouthful. Had I been so lost in my own drama that I’d missed something going bad between Tate and Libby? Was this jealousy a new thing for her?

  “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

  “It’s the first time she’s gone there by herself… like this.”

  “You know what I mean, Kenny. When did Libby start getting jealous, and how long has Tate been flirting with other girls?”

  Kenny reached for a beer and popped the top, taking a mouthful as he shrugged before dropping his beer down again. “Tate’s always been a flirt. Even Sloane’s said that. Libby… well, he hasn’t been hanging with her much, so I guess that’s a recent development. Thing is, someone’s gotta get her before Sutton gets called out by the principal.”

  “And you can’t do it because…?”

  “I have to work.”

  “Liar. You work for the club.”

  “Fine.” He smirked.” I don’t want to get in the middle of my boy’s drama.”

  “That sounds closer to the truth.” I sighed and took another mouthful of my coffee before setting it down on the counter again. “I’ll go, but you owe me.”

  “This is why I love you, Ayda.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m gonna make sure the payback is your worst kind of nightmare.”

  “I have no doubt about it.” He chuckled roughly.

  I rolled my eyes and got up. “Tell Drew where I am if he comes back while I’m gone.”

  I didn’t wait for an answer or any more questions. I had to go and get Libby before all hell broke loose. Of all the problems I’d thought could possibly arise today, this hadn’t been one of them. Libby. I still couldn’t quite believe it, but I also dreaded the thought of how this was going to go down because the girl wasn’t shy like Tate’s ex, Sloane.

  This was going to be fun for me.

  Chapter Twelve

  DREW

  “You look different this morning.”

  I sighed and stared forward, waiting for Gilly to arrive at the other end of the corridor as I ignored Eric’s accusing stare.

  “Drew?”

  “What?”

  “Everything okay?”

  “It was until Sutton called and interrupted the one bit of peace I’d been enjoying since…” I couldn’t say it. I didn’t need to.

  “I thought you wanted this.” Eric’s tone never wavered from even and mechanical.

  I nodded, tensing my jaw. “The club needs this.”

  There was a long pause before he spoke again. Quietly. Controlled. “You let Ayda back in, didn’t you?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I’m glad she didn’t shut you out,” he offered, ignoring my insolence.

  “Shutting me out isn’t her style.” My jaw twitched. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Gilly appeared right on cue, her frantic face matching her hurried footsteps as she waved us forward and then guided us to where Clint was holed up, handcuffed to his bed and hooked up to what seemed like a thousand machines. He wasn’t going home anytime soon. If ever. Poor bastard.

  “You have ten minutes,” Gilly whispered. “Eleven minutes means we all get arrested and I’m out of work for the rest of my life. Don’t make that happen.”

  “Thank you, Gilly,” Eric said behind me, offering her more words of support while I stared at the stranger on the bed. The one who’d helped my brother go out of this world the way he’d wanted to.

  Clint’s eyes were bruised, swollen, and barely able to open, but he stared at me still. He stared at me like he knew me with a look that Harry would have given me had he been there. He smiled that way too, and I watched as his lip burst open from the strain of it, a small bubble of fresh blood rising to the surface.

  “Nine minutes,” Dad whispered over my shoulder.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and moved forward, listening to the beeps of the machines and the heavy creaking of the leather of my boots and cut.

  “I’ll be damned,” Clint said, his narrowed eyes following me around the room.

  “Good to meet you, brother,” I offered softly, coming to a stop by his bed and grabbing hold of the
metal support he was handcuffed to.

  “The honor is all mine. I heard a lot about you in that cell.”

  “Harry talked a lot of shit.”

  “Spoke with a lot of love, too.”

  The emotion rose in my throat, clogging my airways and making the muscles in my jaw work overtime. “Did he suffer?” I asked straight away. I had no time to waste. I had no time to breathe. “At the end, did Harry suffer?”

  “Suffering implies it wasn’t what he wanted. Dying that day was his wish. His body may have hurt, but he welcomed it—all of it. He died smiling. I think he’d already gone when it got bad.” Clint tried to lick his lip to clear the small dot of blood away.

  “Got bad?” I winced.

  “Don’t do this to yourself.”

  “I need to know.”

  “You need to know nothing other than Harry went the way he wanted to go. He’d checked out of his head that morning. The moment he walked out of that cell, he left all his words, his memories, and his last thoughts behind him. When he walked up to that Emp you all hated so much, he was ready, and the man was happy as shit.”

  The taste of grief hurt, and it dried up my voice, making it impossible for me to speak.

  “Eight minutes,” Clint reminded me with a small wink. “No time for being speechless.”

  “You’re going to spend a lifetime behind bars for what you did for Harry.”

  “I was already spending a lifetime there anyway. What’s another one on top of that?”

  “Why?” I cleared my throat. “Why did you choose to help him?”

  “Sometimes unbreakable bonds are forged with strangers, and there’s no reasoning to it. Everything just is. Harry told me his life story. He told me about his cancer. He told me about his family, his club… you.” Clint sighed softly, his brows rising as much as they could. “He spoke a lot about you.”

  “Don’t do—”

  “He loved you, Drew,” Clint cut in. “He was adamant I made sure you knew that.”

  “I know.” I had to grind my teeth to stop myself from letting the emotion tear free enough to make me sink again when I’d only just come up for air. “I loved him, too. I’m glad you were there to… help him.”

  “I’d do it all again tomorrow if I had to. I’d offer today, but…” He glanced down at his arms and his broken body and smirked. “I’m a bit tied up.”

  I studied him. He was the closest thing to Harry’s last days alive that I had. “What can we do to repay you? What can we do to thank you for your loyalty?”

  “I have family. They’re north of Dallas. I’d sleep better at night knowing they were safe… knowing that the prison guards or any other of the corrupt fuckers hadn’t got to them.”

  “They won’t get to them.”

  “Corruption runs deep in Texas, boy. You be careful with the promises you make. You Hounds don’t even know where the thread of deceit starts and where it ends. No one does. Be careful who you make enemies of.”

  “I’ll kill them all,” I assured him. I meant it. I would.

  “Harry said you say that.” He shook his head and sighed. “He told me to tell you to stop being an idiot and start being smart. Smart! He told me to spell it out for you, too. S. M. A. R. T with no ass on the end.” Clint smirked. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”

  “Tempting,” I muttered, my lips twitching.

  “Anyone can start a war, Drew. Cleaning up that war ain’t so easy. Neither is living with the aftermath. He died so you could live. Remember that.”

  Eric coughed lightly behind me, and Clint’s eyes drifted his way. Mine followed, too. Dad was standing with his legs apart, his hands together and hanging in front of him like he was a trained, yet silent soldier. A bodyguard. A man with so much to say but too much control to say it.

  “Eric, I assume?” Clint asked.

  I saw the brief flash of confusion that pulled Dad’s brows in for just a second before he straightened his features and gave a nod. “Honor to meet you, Clint.”

  “I heard a lot about you, too.”

  “All good, I hope.”

  Clint smirked and huffed out a humorless, pain-filled laugh. “Opinions varied in that cell.”

  “That old fool.” Eric smirked.

  “Wasn’t he younger than you?”

  “Be careful what things you believe that a dying man tells you.”

  “All of it,” Clint hit back without hesitation.

  I glanced between the two of them and frowned.

  “Surely we’re down to six minutes now?” Clint asked, turning his attention back to me.

  “Right.” I exhaled heavily. “Did Harry tell you anything? Say anything? Give you any intel? Want you to pass on any messages to the club?” I asked in a rush, suddenly wishing I was smart enough to figure out a way to get Clint out of there and take him back to the club with us.

  “He had one message for you, Drew. Just one.”

  “Hit me.” I inhaled, leaning back and straightening my shoulders.

  “He told you not to fuck this up.”

  “This?”

  “I believe she’s also referred to as Ayda Hanagan.”

  I searched Clint’s barely parted eyes as soon as her name passed his lips. “Ayda?” I whispered.

  “Yes. Ayda. Harry told me to tell you that if you go into any kind of self-pitying, grief-filled depression like last time, he’ll find a way to fuck you up from the afterlife. You’ve got one shot with her. One shot to make it right, and though she puts up with your constant shit, she has her limits. Don’t test those. Don’t push her. Don’t make her choose a life without you because she doesn’t want that, but she’ll fucking take it if she’s forced to. Harry saw it in her eyes. That strength. That determination. That…”

  “Fire,” I finished for him, flatly.

  “Fire,” Clint repeated, nodding once.

  “Is that all he said?”

  “Not even close.” Clint grinned.

  “Didn’t think so.” I sighed. “Wasn’t exactly Harry’s way to miss an opportunity to kick my ass.”

  “He had a long list of demands for you. But we’re down to four minutes and time is running out. This may be the last chance I get to speak to you or anyone before I’m thrown back in that cell again. So, I’ll just give you the last bit of advice he had to offer.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Marry her and marry her quick. Things are about to get messy. Marry her because you love her. Marry her so she doesn’t have to ever testify against you. Marry her because she’s strong enough to handle it. Marry her because you’re too goddamn weak without her. Most of all… marry her because she’s got the ass of a fucking angel and if anyone deserves to have that mouth around their dick for the rest of their life…” Clint paused and sucked in a breath, speaking on the exhale. “Harry thinks it’s you. You’ve suffered enough. Cling onto that good soul of hers.”

  I could hear every word as though it was Harry’s voice delivering it.

  I felt every punch to the gut and every echo of his laughter, followed by his haunting cough and know-it-all smile. I felt everything. Everything I’d tried to ignore, all the grief I’d tried to drown, all the emotion I’d tried to temper down. It rose. All of it. It rose until my eyes were coated in unshed tears and no amount of jaw ticking could control the way my arms shook or the way my chin trembled.

  The last thing I heard before I was ushered out of the room by Eric was Clint reminding me that Harry had tried to settle all our old scores so I could go on to make a better life.

  The only thing I knew for certain was that I had to get back to the club.

  Quick.

  I needed her.

  * * *

  Eric’s eyes were burning holes into my head as I backed my bike up next to his and tried to control my emotions.

  “Drew…”

  His voice cut through my thoughts like a knife through a cake.

  “What?” I snapped, scowling his way. “Why are you ev
en fucking here? You’re everywhere.”

  “Because you need me.”

  “I don’t need shit from you.” It was a lie. I had needed him, and I needed him still. I just couldn’t figure out why… why I couldn’t let him go when I’d lived without him for so long already.

  “It’s okay to cry for Harry,” he said softly.

  “Have you?”

  Eric’s eyes stared into mine. “Repeatedly.”

  “And here I was thinking you’d switched off your emotions years ago.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Drew.”

  “At this point, I’m not sure I ever want to. I can’t be disappointed again. It stings too damn much.”

  Then I tore away, leaving him to stare at the dust my tires had kicked up, and I rode through the streets of Babylon like the man I was—one desperately trying to find the anchor in his life.

  She wasn’t at The Hut when I got there, and I didn’t have the patience to try and chase her around the entire town, tracking her down.

  Straddling my bike again, I slid a glove from my hand, pulled out my phone from inside my cut and scrolled to find her name.

  It rang out on my first attempt, but I tried again. On the eighth ring, she answered.

  “Hey, you. I missed you this morning.”

  “Where are you?” I asked calmly, squinting as I stared up into the sun and closed my eyes.

  “I’m at Babylon High,” she said quietly, the din of noise fading as though she’d removed herself from a group. “Just dealing with some of the usual drama. Is everything okay?”

  “No, everything’s shit,” I said through a weak huff of laughter. “Everything except you.”

  “What happened, baby?”

  “Last night happened, and now I’m feeling all these things again, and I need it. I needed it. It’s just… it’s overwhelming. I’ve buried myself beneath too much, and…” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can I come and get you? Now? I need to ride. I need to feel you behind me.”