Point of Return

by Stacey Lynn

  Yet. Time would tell once reality settled.

  What could I do now, except tell the other men what happened? And I had to agree with Liv on one point.

  I needed a fuckin’ drink.

  Days went by. Then a week. Then two.

  The club was on edge. I felt the tension every time I walked into the clubhouse. Men mourned my dad. However, once the truth had been laid bare, I saw the respect they carried for Daemon in their eyes. The weight from his new position fell hard on his shoulders. A heavy feeling that he had begun carrying the night it all went down.

  He had never wanted it. He would take it and he would do the job, but I knew deep down, he wished someone else was in line to step into the role of President of the Nordic Lords Motorcycle Club.

  Nothing had been said about what Sporelli expected as payback for the information they had given the club. At least nothing was said when I was around. Maybe Daemon knew. Whatever it was, I knew it would settle like a weight in my stomach. The Sporellis weren’t good people. They were a mob family with ties everywhere and Daemon had essentially promised to help them. It would weigh the club and the men down, and I knew at some point in the future, Daemon’s position as president would be challenged.

  Cain had been silent. We had no idea where he was. No idea where Faith was. Even Faith’s mom had disappeared. It drove Ryker ballistic. He had yet to return to his job on the oil rig. Instead, he stalked through the club almost daily, spouting curses and threats to anyone who pretended to listen.

  My heart ached for Faith. I longed to wrap my arms around her, hold her, and promise her we’d get her out of whatever hell she was currently living in. My imagination went into overdrive thinking about what Cain and his men would do to her—how they would use her body—in retaliation for what we did to their men.

  Everyone felt the pressure. The men did. Their old ladies were quieter and even the club whores seemed to understand everyone’s stress. No one had seen or spoken to Vicki since she was told what happened. I didn’t know if she knew of Bull’s plan to kill my mom or not. I also didn’t care enough to track her down and ask. Nothing good would come from knowing.

  Through it all, I forced down my pain and accepted my new life. The one I had with Daemon. The one I had chosen and promised him.

  I didn’t regret it. It terrified me, but I didn’t regret my decision to stay one bit.

  I had made my decision the day I had Gunner ink me with the words, “I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.”

  I was done feeling sorry for myself. I was done playing the victim. I was done letting life pass me by without fighting for what I wanted, truly wanted.

  And Daemon was it. He had been the only thing I had wanted since I was five, maybe before.

  He had been my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first time, and my first love.

  I wanted him to be my forever.

  Unfortunately, he grew distant after my dad’s shooting. Assassination. Ryker assassinated him with one shot from a sniper gun. I refused to think about it. All I cared about was that regardless of my assurance over the last several days, Daemon still looked at me like I was planning on running as soon as he turned his back on me.

  “Hey,” I purred, wrapping my arms around Daemon’s neck and pressing my chest to his back. He was curled over a beer at the bar in the clubhouse. The music was loud, the mood was somber.

  I was so tired of everyone being sad and stressed all the time. I needed to blow off steam. Daemon needed it more.

  “I want to go for a ride.” I shook my arms a bit, jostling him back and forth. One of his hands came up and gripped mine in the front of him.

  He squeezed and the warmth from his skin shot a blast down my arm through my body.

  “Too much shit to do, Liv.” He gave me another squeeze and let go of my hand, going back to his drink.

  I pulled my eyes up and frowned at Ryker. His hands were on the bar, playing bartender, and drinking a glass half-filled with amber liquid. With my eyes, I silently asked, “What the hell is his problem?”

  One side of his lips twitched and he shrugged one shoulder in response.

  “Fine,” I told Daemon, sliding around to his side. I nudged him with my legs and he twisted on the stool, letting me walk in between them. “I’ll go then.”

  One of his hands wrapped around my waist and he tugged me closer. “Not safe for you to be out there. Not with Black Death being so quiet.”

  His green eyes were dark. His eyelashes that hung straight out made him look tired. Or stressed. He probably was both.

  “I know.” I tugged on his arm to pull him with me, but he didn’t move. “But I need you. I need to feel the road and the wind, and I need to do it with you.”

  I pouted. I wasn’t a pouter; however, my bottom lip jutting out and curved chin made Daemon crack a smile. Something I said must have spoken to him. He sighed and set down his beer, letting me pull him to his feet.

  “Let’s roll then, baby.” He nodded at Ryker and whispered something in Jaden’s ear as we walked outside.

  From my view on the back of Daemon’s bike, I took in the cliffs and the water that lined the road on one side, and the enormous evergreens on the other. I loved the road. I loved his bike. I loved driving on the winding highway with Lake Superior on our left and hundreds of feet below.

  Mostly, I loved having my arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him tight, while the bike took us wherever Daemon wanted to go.

  What I didn’t like, was when he pulled into my old house. Just a mile from the one Daemon had grown up in and on the other side of the woods, sat my dad’s house.

  I had never returned here. Even after making amends with my dad, I had never stepped foot in this house or wanted to. It wasn’t mine. Legally, I guessed it was now. But that still didn’t make it my home.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked, refusing to get off Daemon’s bike. I stared at the front door, feeling like everything I had pushed down for weeks would be flung wide open as soon as I entered that house.

  “You need to say good-bye.” He didn’t look at me. He didn’t hold out his hand. He just stood there next to me, hands in his pockets and stared at the same door I looked at. Like we were both terrified of what would happen once we stepped inside.

  “I already said good-bye.” I hadn’t. I hadn’t truly said good-bye to anyone I’d lost; not my mom, my baby, Travis, or my dad. The list of people I’d lost seemed to grow by the month.

  “Ignorin’ it ain’t puttin’ it behind you, Liv.”

  I scowled at his back. I felt my blood begin to warm, but it wasn’t in the way it usually did in his presence. If this was a test, Daemon seeing if I was still thinking of leaving, or at the very least, considering it, I’d play his game.

  And he’d lose big.

  “Fine,” I grouched

  I threw a leg off his bike and stomped to the front door. I used my key I hadn’t used in five years but never thrown away, and walked right into the house I had grown up in. The house where my dad had always paid little attention to me, and where my mom had had enough love to make up the difference.

  Nothing looked the same since the last time I’d been here. All our family photos had been removed from the walls and in their places, there were beer signs, biker signs, and paintings of the mountains and woods in northern Minnesota. A bear head hung above the fireplace mantle.

  The comfortable microfiber sofas I had grown up laying on were replaced with black leather couches.

  Bull had taken our family home and turned it into a cold, sterile bachelor pad.

  Daemon’s boots clunked behind me as I walked through the house. I peered in every single cupboard, opened every drawer, and searched in every closet.

  There was nothing. Absolutely nothing from my life with my mom and my dad existed in any corner of the house.

  I finished my walk-through and stood in the middle of the living room. My blood ran cold. My eyes were dry. I had expected to feel
something in this house, but I felt absolutely nothing. I felt no loss for the man who had rarely shown his love for me. I didn’t feel pain at missing my mom. This house was a shell, and it held no good memories for me.

  “We can go now,” I said, facing Daemon with my hands at my sides.

  He watched me warily, standing too far away.

  I spun in a slow circle and took everything in for the last time. If I ever came back to this house, I would gut it and have it completely emptied of the man who had betrayed me.

  Daemon stood silent.

  “If you’re waiting for me to breakdown, it’s not going to happen.” I took the steps to close the distance between us. I wanted to shake some sense into him. “This house isn’t the way to scare me away, Daemon,” I ran my hand along his cheek and tilted his head down so he had to look at me. “This place means nothing to me. It’s not my home. You… you’re my home.”

  His lips twitched and his eyes closed. He shook his head before he opened them. “You’ve lost so much. I came back into your life and everything went to shit.”

  “Or all the shit in my life went away.” With a faint hint of a smile on my lips, I shrugged.

  Reaching out, I wrapped my fingers around the soft leather of his cut. I tugged him toward me, making him stumble and we fell onto the couch. Daemon over me. Daemon on me.

  I wanted him in me.

  “I don’t blame you for any of it.” I ran my hands through his hair and pulled him down. At the last second, he dropped his head so my lips pressed against his forehead instead of his lips. “I promised you I wouldn’t run. I could lose everything else in my life, but I wouldn’t survive losing you, Daemon. Not again.”

  His forehead brushed back and forth against my lips like he didn’t believe me. I didn’t understand what his head was fighting so hard for. His body—his hard erection jamming into my thigh through his jeans—was clearly at odds with his brain.

  I shifted my hips and arched into him. His hands fisted the leather couch beneath me and he groaned.

  “I need you, Daemon. I’m not leaving you.”

  He let out a forceful exhale. His breath hit my cleavage and my skin prickled all over my chest.

  Slowly, he raised his head and looked directly at me. Our faces were inches from each other but still too far away. His body shifted against me. I widened my legs and let him fall in between them, loving the way his soft leather and hard denim felt against my exposed skin.

  “You mean it.” His eyes cleared, and I saw him finally understand.

  I nodded slowly. My hands tightened on his neck but he wouldn’t let me pull him closer.

  “I’ve been so afraid,” he started, stopped and cleared his throat. “So worried that once all this shit finally hit you, you’d leave.”

  “I know. But I’m not.” I pleaded with him silently to believe me. I begged him to see how much I loved him. How much I needed him.

  I saw immediately when he got it.

  His hands moved from the couch and he cupped my cheeks before his lips fell to mine. He pressed me into the couch as he grabbed my hands and held them above my head with one of his hands. His other moved to my side, lifting my shirt. Our tongues tangled together, fighting for dominance and proof of our love for one another.

  “Old lady,” he growled against my lips. I scoffed and he grinned against my skin.

  “I’m in your bed,” I muttered and his lips pressed against mine. “I’m on the back of your bike.” I arched into him as his lips left mine and pressed against the soft spot behind my ear. “I’m in your home.” I moaned as his tongue darted out and licked my skin. He suckled and licked down to my collarbone. I was turning into a breathless, writhing mess. “And, I’m in your club.”

  He pulled back, his hands lifted my shirt up more, and then his tongue dipped into my navel. I groaned and shifted until his hands clamped down on my hips, holding me in place while his tongue continued to do amazingly sinful things to my skin.

  “Forever,” I finally got out. And he groaned into me. His mouth pressed back down into mine. Our hands fisted into each other’s hair. We held on for dear life, rutting into each other, still fully clothed with just my bra showing under my raised black tank top.

  “Forever,” Daemon growled against my skin before he finished removing every single piece of clothing I had.

  I did the same to him. I didn’t stop to think that we were going to have sex in my dad’s house. I didn’t care. I needed him. Right that very second, I needed to show Daemon how much I loved him, and I needed to feel how much he wanted me.

  He sank himself into me, and then shifted his weight. We fell to the floor and I moved my legs, straddling him. We rocked against each other, pulled and tugged and gripped one another as if we were drowning and only this moment, this fight, could save us.

  And when we came, we did it together, moaning each other names. I felt his dick empty inside of me as my walls clamped around him. My body shook. My arms trembled. The nerves to the hairs on my head went wild as I rocked into him one final time and collapsed against his chest.

  His strong, muscled and inked arms held me tightly against his chest as we both regained our breath, and maybe our minds.

  “This won’t be easy,” he said softly into my ear. And I knew he wasn’t just talking about our relationship, but all the shit he was dealing with Black Death and Sporelli.

  I pressed my lips to his chest. “I know.”

  His hands rubbed my bare back and I shivered under his warm touch. “I need you by my side. I need you listenin’ to me.”

  I nodded. “I’ll stay close to the club. Maybe, work in the garage office instead of with Gunner. I’ll be by your side or with a guard whenever I need one.”

  Daemon was silent for a beat. His breath hitched and then his lips pressed into the top of my head. I felt it down to the tips of my toes.

  “You’re serious,” he finally said, his words carried an amazed-like tone.

  “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you, Daemon. I’m not stupid. I won’t know everything. I won’t be told everything and it’ll drive me crazy. You’ll drive me insane most likely.” I looked up at him, resting my hands on his chest and propping my chin on them. I grinned. “I have a feeling it’ll be worth it, though.”

  He growled and rolled us so he was over me again. “Damn straight it will be,” he growled right before his mouth hit mine again.

  “What is it?” Daemon clipped into the phone. We had just gotten re-dressed after our second round on my dad’s floor—my floor—before Ryker called Daemon’s phone.

  I felt my skin pale when Daemon white-knuckled his phone.

  “Got it,” he clipped out the words. When he turned back to me, he wouldn’t look at me.

  “What is it?”

  His hand came up and he rubbed it down his face and then through his scruff and beard. Slowly, he looked at me.

  “Ryker knows where Faith is.” Each syllable seemed to take a year to fall from his tongue. Whatever Ryker knew, whatever he had found, it wasn’t good.

  I felt my heart drop to my toes. My skin felt too small.

  “We need to help her,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “Okay, then.” Daemon wrapped an arm around my shoulder, leading me out of the house.

  I stopped when we hit the porch, looking back into the home I would never enter again. If I did, I’d have it gutted and emptied first, of everything but the black couch. That had some good memories for me.

  I smiled lightly at the thought and then met Daemon on his bike.

  He had work to do.

  He had to save Faith.

  And I would stand by his side, helping him, supporting him, however he needed it.

  Forever.

  As always, I feel like there are so many people I need to thank for their support and encouragement while I wrote this book. If I leave anyone out—please forgive me! It’s not intentional, I promise.

  First and fore
most, as always, to my family. I love you all and your unending support and love carries me through the most difficult writing days. Thank you for always being there for me.

  To my Bad Ass CPs. You make my writing better. You help me when I’m cursing the blurbs and scenes that aren’t working right. You make me laugh. You help push me through writer’s block. Most of all, you’ve become my friends and I treasure every single one of you.

  To my betas who made me promise not to delete Daemon when I was so frustrated. RS Grey, TK Rapp, Amanda Maxlyn, Samien Newcomb, Sarah Larson, Amy Queau, Natalie Gerber. Thank you for allowing me to continue to pretend that I can write something others want to read. I don’t know what I would do without any of you!

  To my editor, Hot Tree Editing. Thank you for all of your hard work on this book! Any errors that are left are solely my mistakes.

  To Love Between the Sheets book blog. Thank you, sincerely, for organizing the cover reveal, release day blitz and blog tour. You are incredible women and I’m thankful I’ve been able to meet you in person now!

  To you, the reader. THANK YOU. I wish I could hug every single person who has taken the time to leave a review or send me a message or want more of my books. I wouldn’t be able to do what I love without your support and excitement.

  To my Father in Heaven. Your mercy and grace is new every morning. Thank you for giving me a gift.

  Stacey Lynn currently lives in Minnesota with her husband and four children. When she’s not conquering mountains of laundry and fighting a war against dust bunnies and cracker crumbs, you can find her playing with her children, curled up on the couch with a good book, or on the boat with her family enjoying Minnesota’s beautiful, yet too short, summer.

  She lives off her daily pot of coffee, can only write with a bowlful of Skittles nearby, and has been in love with romance novels since before she could drive herself to the library.

  If you would like to know more about Stacey Lynn, follow her here: