Rosey bends to loosen the laces on his work boots about the same time everyone starts to push back from their plates, and that is all I need.
“All right, y’all, as much as I appreciate all that you’ve done for me today, I’m beat.” Rosey stops, taking the hint and everyone slowly starts picking up after themselves. My ranch hands are the first to leave, the others dilly dallying as usual.
Stitch and Wingz lean in closer to Luna, a private conversation I hadn’t realized that started, now in deep. Bex and Sugar start cleaning up as my other two brothers start in on something in hushed tones. I internally groan and head out onto the porch, Steel on my heels. Petting my big ass dog, my lungs pull in the frigid night air, letting it cleanse the tension out of my body. Having this many people up in my personal space is rough, it’s all I can do to tolerate Luna, although, she isn’t bad. It’s actually kinda nice having her around; she’s not annoying, cleans up after herself, and cooks real good. And let’s be real, stealing glances on that figure of hers is a perk. I know I’m a bastard for doing it, hell, I’ve yanked more than a few off in the shower with thoughts of what I want to do to her, I’m only a man. I know she’s completely opposed to the thought of anyone ever touching her. The whys behind that eat at me constantly. Unable to stand myself or her past, a growl crawls from my chest as I march out to the side of the shop where my target practice is set up. Flipping the floodlights on, I whip out my personal piece and begin releasing anger in the best way. Picturing those pieces of shit up the road, I fire a round.
As the last one discharges from my smoking Glock, the tainting of gun powder riding each inhalation, I sense a presence behind me.
“Shouldn’t this scare you?” I ask the pale figure hugging the wall.
“No, why would it?”
“Shit, I don’t know. Loud booms and all.”
“I was never shot at, thank God, so no, I have no psychological damage related to gun fire if that is what you are asking.” Her soft voice is a melody to my ringing ears.
“Well, it’s cold out here, you should probably go inside, don’t know why you’d be out here.”
“To check on you, you seemed upset.”
My voice catches at the sudden twist. She was concerned about me? “Woman, do I look like a pussy?” I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, I just hadn’t expected her answer.
“You know, just because someone caring enough to check up on you makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole,” she smarts but doesn’t move from her post on the wall.
“You’re right, sorry ‘bout that.”
We stand in amicable silence that we seem to do so well together before I load my gun back up.
“Teach me to do that, please?” Her sexy ass gaze trains on the Glock in my hand.
“To do what?”
“Shoot the gun.” Her chin lifts.
“Now, why would you want to learn that? My cookin’ that bad these days?” I can’t help it, jabbing at her is fun, especially when she gets that pouty little look on her face, makes me want to… I stop and shake my head a little.
“Just in case something happens, I should know some basics, don’t want to accidentally shoot my own damn self.” The shadows that pass over her face, even in the terrible outdoor lighting this time of night, tell me all that I need to know. She’s definitely thought about it, some dark things no one ever should be driven to.
“All right then, come on over here.” A long sigh of exasperation escapes my lips before I run down the basics of safety and how to use the damn thing. I didn’t like the idea one bit, Lord knows why, but, she had a point. Someone had definitely been on my property when that storm hit, whether it was coincidence or intentional timing, they were sloppy nonetheless. We found the evidence we needed not far from the tree line. Her laser like focus on what I am teaching makes me proud, it’s been clear from day one that she has a sizable brain in that noggin but now I get to see it in action.
“You ready?” I ask, but she is still staring intently at the gun, processing all that she heard. Her hand is perched on her curves as she chews on her lower lip, fucking hell. “Luna?” She finally snaps too.
“Um-sure.” She reaches for the gun and I pull back.
“I’m gonna need to hear a bit more confidence than ‘um-sure’ before I hand you a death weapon.” It comes out like a light scold, and her petite hand recoils, but I regret nothing.
“Maybe another time.” She backs up.
“No, you came out here and demanded it, now you get exactly what you asked for. Come on now, you can do this.” She steps forward again with more confidence and takes it.
Coming to stand behind her, I make sure to give her enough space to do her thing. I can see the smoke coming out of her ears as she goes through the process of checking the safety, raising her arm, and bracing with the other hand like I showed her. She methodically takes a deep breath, lines her sight, and pops one off, it hitting smack in the middle of the bullseye set up across the way on the first try. What the hell?
“How did that feel?” I cough, trying not to be envious of her natural talent. The excitement is damn near vibrating off of her.
“Amazing! God, I feel… like a damn warrior bitch princess ready to take down the next cocksucker that even looks at me wrong.”
Damn straight, that kind of power feels good. Being in control of a weapon is intoxicating, especially for someone who’s had the level of control stripped from them that she has. Luna continues on, landing one shot after another, the experience proving therapeutic for us both as the rest of the gang gabs on like clucking hens inside. The sounds of laughter and shit talking from inside the house, couple with the ringing out of the firearm. In the moments between gunfire, as she adjusts her handle, the quiet of the crystal clear night reaches into the moment we are sharing, providing a balm to my heightened nerves. That might be my family inside, but being out here with her felt like home; and maybe, just maybe within this space we share, the demons inside could rest.
Chapter 7
Luna
“You sure you want to go? We can just stay here. No one’s gonna hold it against ya.” Leo’s voice rumbles in its classic, growley tone through the closed bathroom door.
“Yeah, just give me a minute.”
Glancing in the mirror, the pep talk continues. It’s Thanksgiving, I’ve met quite a few of the bikers already, and Leo won’t let anything happen to me. The least I can do is make it off this property for an appearance at holiday dinner with people who are important to Leo. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure when the last time was that I sat down to a real Thanksgiving dinner. It had to have been back when my grandparents were still alive, and my mother hadn’t taken to drowning her broken heart in bourbon. After they did pass, my teen years were spent cooking up turkey melts, and spoon eating cranberry sauce out of the can while mother-dearest either worked the diner or passed out for the night with a turkey still defrosting in the sink. Amazing how someone can go from making Martha Stewart look like an amateur to giving Courtney Love a run for her money.
My shaky hands dab the makeup brush into the blush, and I add a little more color to my pale cheeks. Leaning into the mirror, my grey eyes catch for a moment. They’ve always been an interesting color, as if they had a raging thunderstorm going on all within themselves. My daddy used to say that it was the doorway to my inner workings… that he could always tell how hard I was thinking or feeling on something based on the tempest in my eyes.
I can do this, I can leave this plot of land and head up the road to be social with people on a freaking holiday damn it.
Blowing out through pursed lips, I toss everything back into the makeup bag with a clatter and pop open the door. Leo is standing there, arms crossed and back pressed up against the hall wall. My heart beats faster as his baby blues sweep over me and tension takes up residence in his features. Jesus, do I really piss him off that bad? It seems like I am constantly doing something to
tick him off. But, he hasn’t kicked me out yet, so there is that.
“Ready.” Ignoring how good he looks with his cleaned up self in a button down shirt, wranglers, and black cowboy boots, I head straight for the door. Now, if only that perma scowl would fall off his face.
“You want to take the bike?” he asks in all seriousness, footsteps right behind me.
“It’s colder than a polar bear's nuts outside.”
Leo barks a laugh, and grabs the keys to his pickup.
Following him outside, my heart begins to beat faster as we approach his black Tundra, but willpower pushes it down and away. Leo comes around and opens my door, my jaw dropping for a second before I pick it up.
“What was that look for?”
“No one’s ever opened the door for me like that.”
Well, not since my daddy when I was little but that doesn’t count. Another one of those expressions crosses his face, the one that looks between constipation and “someone just kicked my dog.” Letting him have the moment, I get in the cab, and he closes the door behind me. As he walks around the front of the truck, his lips move rapidly as angry mumbles float about. The driver side door open, the truck sways with the weight of him landing in the driver’s seat. He slams the door a bit too hard before firing up the engine. On reflex, I jump a little, but try not to make a sound. As he shifts into drive, my heart speeds up, even faster, and the big metal beast creeps forward. Leo’s eyes cut sideways but he doesn’t say anything as my breathing picks up. We make it to the end of the drive before I realize that I am white knuckling the seat.
“You sure about this?” Leo asks as he comes to a stop where the drive meets the big open road. Part of me is screaming to tell him to turn back, to take me home… that I am not strong enough. And that part pisses me the hell off.
“Yes.”
He doesn’t say another word as he turns onto the main road.
The evening sun is setting in the big, blue sky of Montana as we go, providing the perfect backdrop to this monumental moment. My breath catches as I take it in, and I push the button to slide the window down. Popping my head out of the opening, the cold, whipping wind frolics through my long hair as my spirit lifts. Gratitude for this moment, taking place in my home state and not some other strange place, fills me. Until Leo, I thought they had taken me to a faraway land, another corner of the world even. That alone was devastating. Montana is where my heart is. And guess what Luna? You made it off the property in time to watch this beautiful sunset in your beloved state. This moment is worth everything.
Twenty minutes later, Leo pulls the big black truck onto a dirt road. As we bump along, his vibe changes, shifting into his asshole state… the one he saves specially for most of the world; except me.
The sounds of people partying are what first hit me. As the laughter and deep male voices roll across the night air, my sight registers all of the bodies standing on the lawn with red solo cups, chatting it up. The dark, moving forms of others in the background start to slightly blur, and interchange with broken memories like a flip book, moving so fast I can’t tell what is real and what is not. My vision begins to do funny things, and the buzzing in my ears becomes louder than the radio.
“No, no, no, no,” I keep repeating as my feet come up on the dashboard, and I try to push myself back into the seat further. My petrified face turns to Leo’s, his lips are moving but I can’t hear anything but the swarming bees in my head. His wide eyes drop to my hand, now clawing at my shirt. He sweeps it up into his with ease, even though I fight him all the way, he doesn’t let me win. The warmth from his big hand seeps into my clammy flesh, slowly chasing away the arctic terror that has seized me.
“Luna, breathe darlin’, I got you,” Leo’s cavernous voice finally reaches across the swarm. Its gentle tone reminds me to start pulling deep breaths back into my chest. Seconds tick by into minutes as I force myself to breathe while he holds onto me, like an anchor in the middle of a raging storm. That’s exactly how he’s felt from day one, the rock, the touch stone, the only thing grounding me in the middle of a never ending hurricane. He doesn’t make a sound, question or rush me, he simply is.
“Can we go home?” My voice is barely a whisper. He nods shifts the truck into drive, and before I know it, the party is in the rearview mirror as we hightail it back to the ranch.
“I’m sorry Leo, I didn’t know that would happen.” I seriously thought that this would work.
“Stop apologizin’ for shit you can’t control. Ya did good, you made it all the way here,” he grunts and shifts his eyes back to the road, his hand still wrapped around mine.
I sit there for a minute and stare in amazement at our entwined fingers. The feeling of him touching me isn’t making my insides revolt, it actually feels good, comforting.
“Do you want me to take my hand back?” he asks without moving an inch, the contact proving nice for both.
“No.” And that’s the last thing either of us say on the drive home.
My thoughts are adrift as the truck pulls up to the house, and I don’t even realize where we are for a moment.
“There, ya made it.” Leo reaches over with his left hand to shut off the engine all while keeping his bear paw laced with my petite one. Never knew how small one adult hand could look in another’s. We sit there and stare out the dashboard and into the night, neither of us ready to move.
“Thank you, for everything.” I finally manage to get out, still not wanting to take my hand back.
“Ain’t nothin’. Not sure what we are gonna do bout dinner though.” His eyes find mine, and a feeling I’ve never experienced before burns in the pit of my stomach.
“It looks like it’s time for that emergency frozen pizza you never want to touch.” I chuckle and smoothly pull back my arm, finally needing space from whatever in the hell that was.
Leo groans. “Ah hell, fine. But that means we are gonna have to watch Die Hard.”
“Oh? How you figure?” That is an interesting choice on a day like today.
“Well, the way I see it is Thanksgiving is the kickoff to the holidays and that’s the ultimate Christmas movie.”
A snort escapes me as I laugh. “All right cowboy, but we are following that up with something sappy.” Another deep, weird gurgle comes from him as he jumps out and comes around to open my door.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that, darlin’, a real man is a chivalrous one.” He tips his chin and hits me with the first real smile I’ve ever seen him crack beyond his crooked grin.
“Thank you,” I stutter, and take his hand to get out of the lifted truck. There is nothing left to say as the lasting effect stole my words.
Ω
Leo
The gavel lands hard as Silver’s temper becomes palpable in the wake of these leather clad bastards bickering like little bitches. My back is firmly planted against the wall, keeping to the shadows but standing witness to a brutal-ass session in church.
“Blue, this is fucking ridiculous, it wasn’t those Hillbilly assholes. I’m tellin’ you it was our neighbors up the road,” Legs fumes, the need for vengeance gleaming from his eyes. Always the hot head ready to shoot someone.
“You know damn well they wouldn’t cross that line or we’d cut their little booger sugar operation off at the knees, seeing their supplier has no choice but to roll through our end of town,” Tank calmly adds.
More arguing rises from the depths of the rest of them, half ready to go fire up their bikes and make the wrongs right.
Blue stands, his giant form rising like a beast in the night, his heavy palm landing once on the meeting table with a deafening thud. The room falls silent as all eyes lock on the Prez for the final word. “We do not draw blood until we have proof. Whip, Tank, and Edge head out now and do your damn thing. You have three days or we bury this mess in the graveyard.”
Sounds of grumpy little bitches cluck around as Tank, Edge, and I hang back and let the rest get up and file out. The word
has been dropped, nothing else to be said.
“Fuck boss, three days might not be enough.” Edge sighs, running his hand back over his bald head.
“Don’t be a pussy, Boy George.” Tank claps him on the back.
“Shut the fuck up all of you. Blue is serious about the three days, hell, I’d only given you two. You better find what we need because I sure as hell won’t be contracting this out to the graveyard.” Silver’s eyes glare through the low lighting of the clubhouse boardroom, the light hitting them just right, reminding me of Lunas.
“We roll out tonight, will be back tomorrow by sun down,” I say with finality, leaving Edge to gawk at me in all of his cocky youth. “Boy, don’t ever look at me like that,” I warn with an edge that has his eyes dropping to the ground and Tank chuckling.
“Well youngin’, looks like you get to take your head out of whore pussy long enough learn a thing or two. Nothing like watching this one work.” Tank laughs while throwing a thumb my way. Blue and Silver ignore us and go back to their little powwow as we grab our leather jackets and head out to the bikes.
“Gotta swing by the house first. Tank, you think Bex would stay over with Luna for the night and keep tabs on her?”
“Hell, I don’t know but I can ask. Isn’t that what they call one of them girls nights?”
“Call it whatever in the hell you want. Make sure she brings dinner and whatever else they might need. Weather is supposed to get bad this way tonight.” I sure as fuck hate the idea of leaving her overnight, especially considering what’s been going down up the road, but if anyone would pop one of those assholes if they got too close, it’s Bex. Shit, and the way Luna’s aim has been I’m sure she would, too, if her PTSD didn’t lock her down in the moment. I don’t doubt Luna’s ability to handle herself if it came down to it, but I do worry about her mind playing tricks on her and slowing her reaction time.
Winter's Absolution (Obsidian Blades MC Book 1) Page 9