Preacher Man (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 2)

by V. Theia

  “That little shit has a day off and a 4.0 GPA, Son, unless he turns into the professor, there’s nothing higher he can achieve. Plus, didn't you hear, he's texting a g-i-r-l.” Birdie chuckled, Ruby could see how proud she was.

  “Still might knock his block off.” An amused Preacher answered and took off into the back yard. Gorgeous citrus and BBQ smells wafted from outside. Her stomach groaned.

  “Now we got rid of him, he’s so fuckin' nosy, he gets that from his mom. We can have some booze, and you can tell us how the boy of ours talked you down the aisle.” The Spanish inquisition, she could do this, they’d practiced at home some of the things his parents might ask. Just tell ‘em you fell for my dick and rode me like a bull. She would not be using Preacher’s suggestion.

  “His natural good looks, obviously! He gets that from me as well.” Birdie hair-fluffed and teased a grin Ruby’s way.

  Growing up the way she had, needing to be the responsible adult way before her time, Ruby was always on the lookout for the obvious criticism, her mom would say she was overly defensive, but coming from an addict who couldn’t hold a job or her life together and called Ruby every name under the sun when she didn’t have the money for her drugs, her defensiveness had been warranted, you wait long enough for those emotional punches and one is going to smack you unawares. So, while she chatted with the Priests, she looked out for it, it was coming, right? Surely there was a snarky gold digger comment ready to be fired slyly.

  But none came.

  Not one.

  In fact, they were the perfect hosts. They chatted, his dad flirted in that friendly older man kind of way, calling sweetheart and doll, Birdie was the definition of nice, so much so she was starting to believe Preacher was adopted, if not for the fact he looked like a younger version of his dad and swore just as much.

  Speaking of. “This little shithead wants to invite his girlie-friend over, Ma. I said bring her to the lion's den. You’re the lion. She won't stand a chance.” He smirked. The much younger boy followed behind, his face beet-red.

  “Shut your mouth, Ash. I didn’t say that, Ma. She’s busy anyway.”

  Preacher cuffed the dirty-blond haired boy in a headlock, ruffling all his shaggy hair. Preacher’s broad chest rose and fell as he laughed and taunted his brother some more for having a girlfriend.

  “Maybe I’ll come to your club,” Tyler smirked.

  “You’ll stay the fuck away, Ty. I already told you, you’re gonna be a lawyer or some boring accountant shit like that so we can all retire in the Bahamas, don’t make me break your damn skull.”

  Threats of violence seemed to be normal and accepted around here. Ruby bit back a grin and buried her mouth in her second glass of margarita feeling a warm buzz.

  “Boys!” Birdie clucked flicking them both with her tea towel as she assembled a pasta salad. What kind of salad had fruit in it? Ruby speculated, as she watched chopped peaches go into the wide glass bowl. Her stomach did a little flip and she affirmed right there she’d choke that fucker down and not puke in her purse, mainly because she’d left her purse in the car outside, you don’t complain about the food when you meet the parents, that was the second rule. “What kinda impression are you giving to Ruby? We don’t show our vicious side until a few months’ time.”

  Ruby laughed.

  Yes, she was going to like the Priests.

  Her new family.

  Damn. Her chest started to feel tight and warm all at once. Now if only she could get Sebastian to shower with love, to make his little life all better again.

  “You okay, baby?” A quiet husky voice said from behind, interrupting her dark puking salad thoughts. Preacher’s lips brushed her ear. She shivered and leaned her back into his chest. “Mmhm.”

  “You a bit toasted?” Amused tone.

  “Maybe a little. Your dad made it strong.”

  “Shoulda warned you, those things will blow your head off, worse than my granddaddy’s moonshine back in the day.”

  “Warning schwarning, son. Gotta test out the girl’s metal and she’s doing just fine, a Priest if I ever saw one, your grandma could drink any man under the table.” Maxwell grinned over and toasted her. Of course, she lifted her glass and toasted him right back. So, she was going to eat peach pasta salad and get drunk as a skunk, she could so do this. She was a Priest now.

  “Your granny also died of liver disease.”

  “Semantics, dear, she was ninety-five after all.” Max told his wife. “Good woman, she gave me a nip of whiskey every night on my gums when I couldn’t sleep.”

  “And how’d that work out for you, Pops?”

  “Never did me any harm.”

  “Don’t take parenting advice from this one, Ruby.”

  “Either of them, sis-in-law. Ma once left me in Walmart for two hours. I was six.” added Tyler slouched over at the middle island throwing cheese slices into his mouth.

  “I forgot you were with me. It was a genuine mistake, I was distracted in Hobby Lobby picking out fabric for your Halloween costume. It was a nice Ninja tortoise costume, Ty, and I came back for you eventually.” It appeared to be an old family favorite story as each of them smiled.

  “Turtle, Ma.” he grinned.

  This family. Ruby watched them in awe. This was a normal family ribbing each other, the child neglect aside, it didn’t show to have done Tyler any harm anyway not if he was top of his class.

  She felt Preacher kiss the shell of her ear, and her face heated, the others didn’t seem to notice their PDA, a few times she’d seen Maxwell give Birdie the same kind of hug from behind as she hustled around the kitchen.

  “Time to eat.” Birdie declared grabbing the huge bowl of peach salad. “Ruby, sweetie, can you bring the bread rolls? And the jug of OJ out of the fridge. Tyler, you’re on cake duty.”

  “Cake, whoop!” The young lanky boy bound across the long L-shaped kitchen in two steps, the kid was almost as tall as Preacher, give him a few years to fill out into his body he’d just be as devastating to women.

  Her eyes forever strayed to her husband. And found his eyes on her already.

  “Doing alright?” He asked quietly, catching her around the waist before they could step out into the backyard to eat on the deck. His hand felt large, possessive, warm, skimming around her to stop on her belly, using her shoulder she leaned a little into him. “I am. I like them,” she told him just as quietly. She could see herself loving the Priests as much as she did their son. That was one of Ruby’s biggest defects, she was a sucker for tenderness if she was given a speck of kindness and care she clung onto it like a bee on pollen. She was already falling for the Priest family, hook line, and booze.

  “Good, baby. I’m glad, they like you, too.”

  “So, no divorce then? ... I mean, not right this second.” She tried to laugh off her slip.

  Preacher’s hand stilled on her belly almost has if he’d turned to stone, she smiled up at him, embarrassed for her error, marriages of convenience end, Ruby, she had to retain that.

  “Yeah, not this second, beautiful,” he answered simply, the depths of green boring into her, he took a second just staring at her as if he had a million things he wanted to say and was holding them all back, before he reached down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His voice was back to normal when he added. “Time for grub.” She wanted to press and to ask what he was thinking about.

  Priest grub she could do. Figuring out the man she was married to and what went on inside his head was a whole other issue.

  ******

  Ruby hadn’t been napping thirty minutes when her phone on the table chimed.

  And chimed. And chimed.

  Her nimble body curled up on the couch in the living room, recovering from the booze session with his father, like she’d always belonged there in his living room under the throw blanket his mom had brought over months ago and he’d never used until now. His forehead wrinkled looking over at the damn phone, he stopped mid-step, a box of her shit she
wanted placing in the kitchen clutched under an arm, a continuously chiming phone didn’t sound good, he checked on her, still out, and he scooped up her cell. The lock screen showing three messages from that fuckwit Dwayne.

  Asshole was evading the cops because the likelihood was him being the one to start that bedroom fire and the one to have given Rita the amount of heroin to fell an elephant, not even a junkie would have taken that much smack found in her system, was becoming all too apparent, and yet the dipshit was texting Ruby. Unbelievable. Someone fell out of the idiot tree and hit every branch on his way down.

  Smashing his teeth together, he strolled into the kitchen, dumped the box of whatever-the-crap knickknacks she’d said was inside on top of the counter, unlocked her phone.

  “Get the fuck out.” He hissed reading the badly spelled messages. And here Preacher thought he was shit with the writing. “The fucking balls on this dickhead.” Anger swirled through his clenching forearms, but he had to keep it together, play the smart game because if he did this guy could be in lock-up by the end of the day.

  Dwayne: 5:10 - I have the kid. If u want him I want 50 grand 2DAY! Dnt call cops or u never C him again.

  Stand-up guy. Father of the fucking year. Preacher’s jaw clenched.

  Dwayne: 5:11 - Meet me 1 hr. Main street. No fuking cops!

  Dwayne: - Bring the money bitch.

  He had Sebastian? How was that even possible? The boy who was supposed to be in a secure foster home? The fuck was going on? This was looking shadier by the second. On one hand, if it was true and they alerted the authorities Dwayne could take off and the boy with him, that would devastate Ruby, plus, the club always handled their business themselves, this was Preacher's business, therefore, making it the club business.

  With his mind racing he put a call through to the clubhouse office first, his boy was around, the first time in days, so he asked him and Snake to come over to the house.

  Next, he had to wake Ruby and tell her.

  As expected she didn’t take this new shitstorm well at all, after calming her down and watching her wrestle into a pair of tennis shoes he was sure she was going to rip at the seams if the laces didn’t cooperate he heard the distinct roar of two bikes pull out outside his house. “Baby, won’t be a minute, I’ll be outside at the truck when you're ready.” He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, okay?” Her eyes were rimmed red.

  “What’s going on, Preach? Sounded urgent, we hunting rabbits?” Asked a cool Snake, leaning against the tank of his bike. Preacher didn’t say a word until he’d come down the walkway and joined his two brothers. Briefing them quickly.

  Grinder and Snake were going to be backup only, not knowing what kind of situation they’d walk into with that junkie piece-of-shit, he wanted minimal trouble, what with Ruby insisting on coming along and the boy being there, there was no persuading her to stay home. All three pairs of eyes turned as he heard the door close, she hurried down the steps.

  “Are we leaving?”

  “Yeah, the boys are gonna go on ahead.” She looked at the both but only nodded before climbing up into his black SUV, better to go with four wheels than two if they were collecting the kid. By the book, Archie had warned, this was so far from the book they’d skipped over chapters, but fuck it, his old lady was terrified, he wasn’t putting this in the cop’s hands, if the officials were anything decent how did scum like Dwayne get hold of Sebastian in the first place? Best case scenario he was talking out of his ass hoping to fleece money out of Ruby and he didn’t have Sebastian after all, worse case, he did and Preacher was about to, as Snake declared, hunt fucking rabbits.

  A long fifteen minutes’ drive later he pulled up at the curb, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. “Where is he? Do you see him? I don’t see him, Preacher. Where can he be? Do you think he has Seb? we should have called CPS.” Her panicked questions kept on coming. He could see his boys just a way up the street loitering near the diner, one sharp whistle and they’d come running, for now, they were best where they were if they spooked the addict there was no telling what he could do. “Should we call the cops? I think we should.”

  “Not just yet, Ruby, let's see what we're dealing with first, it could all be a ploy for money, not like a junkie can tell the truth.” His eyes tracked up and down the street, the guy picked somewhere perfect, just populated enough he could get lost.

  “I’m so fucking scared. What if he hurts him?” Threads of terror in her tone. Reaching across the console he clasped her hand, gave it a squeeze.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Eyes so dark it looked like she was all pupil looked at him unblinking before she nodded, he suspected if she spoke her voice would crack. “I’ll make it alright, Ruby.”

  “Oh, god there he is!” She screeched, her gaze, wild and suffered going behind him and before he could tell her to stay in the truck she had the door flung open, slipping into goddamn oncoming traffic like she didn't even see it, and had taken off at a dead run up onto the sidewalk. ”Ruby!” Fuck! Three steps behind her, heavy boots on the sidewalk he too spotted that jerkoff hidden halfway between a pawn shop and a sandwich joint, gripping the boy's shoulder. Jesus, Ruby was gonna get herself hurt. It was as though she didn’t even acknowledge the man blackmailing her for money, she crashed down on her knees in front of Seb, Dwayne shielding him away from her, keeping hold of his leverage, that fucker. Preacher was there a second later, his eyes were chips of pissed off, just in time to hear the despair in Ruby’s tone as she begged that dickhead “He’s a baby, Dwayne, how can you do this? let me take him, you're frightening him. It's okay, Seb, Ruby is here now, dad is just playing a silly game, isn't he?” The reassurance fell flat. Right away Preacher saw the guy was high as a kite, pupils blown out unfocused, twitching like he was playing an invisible piano.

  “Did ya bring my money? I need it. I need it, I gotta have it, take him, he's yours, but need that money, Ruby.”

  “Aun’ Ruby…” tears streaking down the kid’s face, no wonder with his so-called father digging fingers into his little bony shoulder as he tried in vain to reach around the man to get to Ruby.

  She tried to stretch for Seb again and Dwayne rose his clenched fist, spittle coming out of his mouth as he repeated his chant of wanting his goddamn money.

  Ice shards stung his brain. Was he seeing this shit?

  The charge in the air caused his spine to turn rigid. Try to lay a hand on his old lady?

  Preacher saw red.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “When push comes to taser, I’d do anything for her. Anything. “ – Preacher

  Criminals, liars, outlaws and worse, the reputation a motorcycle club had often strayed far from the truth and bikers were usually okay about that since it played into what ruled most people.

  Egos were monsters that needed feeding and nothing fed better than being branded a bad boy wherever you go. Only now, in this burning fraught second, when blood boiled within Preacher's veins as he watched a man about to thump his old lady as she shrunk down on her knees desperately trying to protect a crying little boy, at the same time as he heard feet pounding across the street, no doubt about it, it was his boys coming out of hiding, he let his spine go soft, arms hanging at his side like heavy tree trunks, he was about to live up to every last whispered rumor about him and his kind when he killed this motherfucker in broad daylight.

  "You don't want to do that." He gritted out in a voice that didn't sound like his own.

  Dwayne had such a clawed hold on the boy he was sure to be bruising him, little dark eyes pooled with tears looked up at Preacher for a beat of a second, what was the kid thinking? He was four years old and he knew fear, he knew terror, he knew neglect first hand, this little boy in his dirty scuffed jeans knew to fear adults and that was just not fucking right.

  That same anger surged for Seb, to make it okay for him, to get the family he needed. He had to break eye contact, Preacher’s heart was goddamn breaking, the boy was family now, no m
atter what. "You lay a hand on her and you die right here no ifs, buts, or second chances," he told Dwayne calmer than he felt. It was due to smell mercies the man was not dropped right there. Preacher had bullied and fought on the playground, childhood games, the principal hated him for how often he ended up in his office, he'd played in real wars and lost in the biggest way, this was one battle he refused to lose. Stepping in, one swerve of his body in front of Dwayne, he pinned the guy in, they all looked like some weird as fuck huddle, but there was a purpose to it, not just so he could smell the stink of body odour wafting off this guy. Jesus fuck, why wasn't there flies around him? Because he was fucking ripe as ten-day-old garbage.

  Fucking junkie.

  The purpose being, he slid his hand to the holster he had under his jacket, he hadn't brought his 9mm, too many risk factors, but he had brought one of Lawless' favorite toys, a homemade device that fit snuggly into his palm, one press to Dwayne's jugular and he discharged 50,000 volts in one easy press.

  The guy went down faster than Marietta did on New Year’s Eve. His connection to the boy severed, it gave Ruby the advantage to snatch him up, and that look on her face, fuck him, she was sick with relief. "Boys, get my old lady back to the truck," he issued without taking his eyes off Dwayne slumped on the ground groaning and pissing himself. Couldn't blame him for that, a charge of electricity hard enough to fry his balls from the inside, the fella would be lucky to piss out of his dick again. Preacher couldn't care less. "Baby, go with the boys. And call the cops, tell them what happened here."

  Thank god, she did, because he had unfinished business, walking fast back to the SUV flanked by two of his friends, he watched her go all the way there until he knew she was safely back inside the truck with Seb.

  He had this.

  He'd so fucking handle this piece of shit now.

  Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck he yanked the lanky guy to his feet. A man stayed on his feet when he faced the enemy his commanding officer always told him.