The room began to spin. Tears rushed her. She needed to get away, fast. Releasing Bryce’s hand, she took several steps back.
He moved to face her, blocking Lilliam from her sight. Then he snaked his arms around her back bringing her close. She planted her hands against the expanse of his chest, feeling every muscle, every ridge. It sucked it felt good, so amazing for a split second she forgot what he’d just done to her.
Looking into his eyes as he held her close, the room stopped swirling. A relief, she didn’t know if she would’ve stayed standing otherwise.
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “Don’t you trust me?”
She pushed with all her might but only managed to get an inch between them. His arms tight around her wouldn’t allow her farther away.
“You trust me.” His voice firm yet pleading just like his eyes. “You do. You said you love me. You love me, you gotta trust me now.”
Trust him? No clue why but even as her breaths came out in gasps, she nodded.
Bryce turned, releasing one arm from around her back yet kept the other firm around her waist. He lugged her to his side pressing her close as if he knew she needed the weight of her body supported.
She swallowed.
“Tell her.”
Em realized for the first time they weren’t alone. Strike stood to Lilliam’s right. Bud to her left, blocking her in. Neither looked happy.
Apparently, Lilliam didn’t speak fast enough because Bud barked, “Tell her!”
He screamed it so loud and sudden, she jostled against Bryce. Almost as if instinctively, that arm around her waist squeezed her.
Lilliam’s eyes narrowed, glaring at Bud. She threw her fake blonde hair behind her then snapped, “It’s been more than five years.” Lilliam’s head shot forward meeting her gaze. “Looks like she’s forgiven him anyway.”
Bud ground his teeth then kicked one of the hind legs of Lilliam’s chair. It tipped over.
Lilliam caught herself on her hands and knees. “I can’t fucking believe you just did that! I’m married to one of your brothers!”
“Not as soon as you sign those fuckin’ papers,” Strike shot.
Lilliam jutted her breasts forward, stretching the small tank she wore. Then on hands and knees, she turned, put her feet on the ground, giving Em and Bryce view of her bare ass. Lilliam rubbed her knees, stood, and straightened. “Get him now. I want to talk to him. When he finds out what you just did to me, he’ll—”
“Get him.”
Em’s head automatically tilted to Bryce. Still trying to process Lilliam being there, and now, the knowledge Lilliam had married one of the brothers, Em didn’t notice when Bud and Strike called for him. A minute later, the door behind her opened. She looked over her shoulder.
Dodge, jaw clenched, hands in fists, strode inside. Em knew him. He’d been with the club all those years ago. Since then, he’d had a son, Cullen, who was often at the compound and played with Della and Bree though he was younger.
Dodge’s gaze sliced behind her to Lilliam.
Lilliam started talking at him. “They’ve kidnapped me, and—” Her words died abruptly when Dodge moved.
Standing before Lilliam, Dodge’s body tense, anger vibrated from every pore. “I don’t give a fuck. I stopped giving a fuck a while back. Just ’cause I stopped giving a fuck didn’t mean I expected you to care even less about your kid.”
Shit. Lilliam was Cullen’s mother? How had Em not known this?
“Though I shouldn’t be surprised now, should I? ’Cause you never gave a shit.”
“Of course, I—”
“Shut it.” Dodge paused for a split second. Then his voice lowered an octave. “Before you fucked with me, you fucked with Trig. Imagine my surprise when I found out before that, you fucked with Rip, with Em. Worse than all that shit is you fuck with…” He slammed his hand against his chest. “My boy.”
Jabbing his finger in Lilliam’s face, he screamed, “Your son. In my eyes, you’re the worst piece of shit the earth spit out, so I don’t give a shit what happens to you. You give Rip what he wants. Then you sign the divorce papers and get gone. By gone, I mean you get the fuck out of Wadden. You go somewhere I’ll never see your face again.”
With those last words, Dodge stormed out of the room.
“Tell her.” This came from Bud, his patience fraying by the look on his face.
“Like she’d believe me anyway.”
Bud closed the distance between himself and Lilliam, gripping her arm roughly. His voice deadly, he said, “I think you forgot where you are. I think you forgot what we used to do for a living. Think you forgot you’ve fucked with a lot of us, and all of us are people you don’t fuck with ’cause that punishment is…” He leaned into her. “Severe.”
Finally, something sunk in. Lilliam’s eyes widened. She turned to Em then reluctantly looked at her. “I made you think I fucked him, but I never did.”
Lilliam said it softly. Because she didn’t want Em to know, because she wanted to prolong her pain, Em didn’t know, but she heard. She heard it clearly, but she didn’t say anything. Like everything that happened since she walked into that room and found Lilliam inside, she was still trying to process it.
It took a moment, and when it settled, the magnitude of what Lilliam admitted hit her. Her throat went dry. The room began to twirl, again, this time much faster. Closing her eyes, she swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat. Her hands went to Bryce, one gripping his stomach, the other his back, nails digging into his skin.
She left him, the man she loved, and took Bree…
Bree had gone without a father…
Bryce missed five years of his daughter’s life…
All that time wasted—for nothing. And all because of her, because she believed Lilliam. Why had she?
She parted her eyes, realizing belatedly Bryce now stood in front of her, staring down at her. Hands gripping her arms, he’d called her name at least twice.
“Tell me.”
His brows furrowed. “What?”
“Is it true?”
He swallowed. “Knew you wouldn’t believe me. That’s why I’ve been looking for her for weeks. I’d thought you’d believe her.”
A rush of tears came because of what he said, because of what it meant. He hadn’t told her himself because he didn’t trust her to trust him.
She shook her head. “Why would you think I wouldn’t believe you?”
“’Cause you believed her.”
Shit. She had. She believed Lilliam so easily and never even confronted him. She messed up both their lives and worse, Bree’s, by believing Lilliam.
Em caught Lilliam coming out of their room, practically naked. Lilliam claimed she was fucking him. Em found a thong on their bed. It didn’t matter. She should’ve trusted him enough to ask him. What had she been so afraid of? Of having him admit it to her face? Of not being strong enough to walk away after staring into his peculiar, beautiful eyes? Of convincing herself she loved him too much to leave even if he’d cheated? Of letting herself settle for that?
“I need to hear it from you.”
Gaze holding hers, he released a breath then finally said, “I never wanted her. I never fucked her, not before you, not while we were together, not after you left.”
Good God, what had she done? She’d ruined their lives!
Her chest tightened so much it made it hard to breathe. She was hot, sweating, and the tears were coming so fast, she couldn’t hold them back. No! She couldn’t give that woman the pleasure of knowing how much she hurt.
Her hands firm against Bryce’s chest, she shoved him. Not expecting it, he lost hold of her and stumbled back. She took advantage, side-stepped, and walked past him. Face to face with Lilliam. Even in her position, Lilliam managed to look snarky. Classic bitch.
Em balled her hands into fists then swung. Knocking her to one side, Lilliam fell to the floor. Em pounced, climbing on top of her, punching again and again until she lost
count.
An arm tightened around her waist pressing her back to a hard chest. Then he spoke against her neck. “Stop fighting. Gonna hurt yourself.”
She caught her breath. Strike and Bud lifted Lilliam and hauled her out of the room. Then everything she held back came crashing down. The magnitude of what an idiot she’d been, the guilt, all she missed, all he and Bree had, the hurt she caused him, herself, and especially Bree compounded until she was gasping. Tears flowed down her face; gut-wrenching sobs tore through her, and the whole time, he, the man she hurt, held her close.
His mouth at her ear, arms wrapped around her, he pleaded, “Don’t fight me, Em. Don’t fuckin’ fight me.”
She wanted more than anything not to, but she didn’t deserve him. So she fought, arms and legs pushing at him, trying to make him release her, struggling to get away. He let her go a split second to make her face him. She took advantage, shoved him, and took a series of steps away.
He rushed her, circled his arms around her back and neck, hauled her to him, and squeezed her. “I’m not letting you go, babe. Made that mistake once, not doing it again. So you wanna fight, fight, but you’re not catching me by surprise again, meaning I’m not letting you go. Not for a second.”
That slashed through her causing an ache so deep it silenced her sobs.
Cupping the back of her head, he angled her face to his, and his tortured stare locked with hers. “I walked around a long time blind ’cause all I saw was you even when you were nowhere in sight. I’m not doing it again, not letting you go.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t feel anything but that ache, a pain she felt everywhere but especially her heart.
No way she’d ever doubt him now. In so many words, in actions, he proved how much he loved her. Because he wouldn’t let her go, because he forgave her, she knew he loved her more, much more than she ever thought possible.
Panting, she shook her head. “Can’t b-believe you f-forgive me.”
“You’ll forgive me too.” His hold over her softened though not completely.
“What for?”
“I’ve had some time to think about this. ’Cause I have, I know if I’d been completely honest with you back then, you wouldn’t’ve believed her.” His eyes darkened. “The truth is she’d been trying to get me to fuck her for a while.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t make a difference—”
“Yeah, Em, it fuckin’ does ’cause you would’ve known she was making moves on me, and you would’ve realized she was playing you from the get-go, and you would’ve never questioned me. You would’ve never questioned us. You would’ve stayed.”
She shut her eyes and swallowed. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. This isn’t my fault. It isn’t yours. It’s hers. Now, we got us back, so she loses, not us.”
Tears continued to trek down her cheeks. “But—”
“No, buts, Em. It happened. We move on. We have moved on. We’re married. We got Bree. We’re gonna make another baby. We’re gonna be happy and make so many good memories, we’re gonna forget this shit ever happened.”
God, who was this man? Biting the side of her lip, her thought slipped out. “I don’t know you at all.”
His face softened. “Yeah, you do.” He dropped his head resting his forehead against hers. “Proving my point, I never said it, but I’ve always felt this way about you. If you would’ve known, you wouldn’t’ve left.”
God, he was killing her. She curved her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “You showed it. You didn’t say it, but I felt it, felt loved.”
“I should’ve said it, babe. Should’ve said it every day ’cause I loved you every second of every day.”
She closed her eyes tightly, feeling too much, some of it bad, most of it good. When she parted her lids, she said on an exhale, “Love you, Bryce.”
He grinned. “Love you, Em.” His hand slid up her cheek and back into her hair. “We gotta go. I’ve got another surprise.” He turned and glided his hand down her back and side and along her arm to grab her hand. Then he lightly tugged her forward.
“Not sure I want to see it.”
Over his shoulder, he asked, “Why?”
She smiled. “You kind of suck at surprises.”
His brows furrowed.
“This isn’t the kind of surprise you give your wife on your wedding night.”
His lips quirked up. “It’s a good way to start our marriage, clean slate.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
He smirked. “‘Sides, I guarantee you’ll like this one.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ripper hadn’t lied. He’d stake his life on the fact she’d love his surprise. To get there, they’d ride. It’d been too long since she’d been on the back of his bike.
He led her upstairs and down the hall. Reaching the room Em and Bree share, the room Em still kept most of her clothes in but didn’t sleep in since she slept with him, he strode through, pulling her in behind him. He shut the door with his foot then drew her against him as he did. Chest to chest, he asked, “You wear that color for me?”
Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks flushed, and still, she looked breathtaking. She smiled and nodded.
“Still my favorite, Em.”
Her smile widened.
“Like the dress. Love it on you, but we’re gonna go for a ride, so you need to change.”
She hooked her arms around his neck, got on the tips of her toes, and tilted her head up for a kiss. He gave in, leaning down to meet her lips. A soft, simple, sweet kiss, he felt it in his bones.
She pulled away. He watched her walk into the closet. Then as he marched out of the room and into his across the hall, he removed the black, button-down shirt he wore, one he bought for the occasion. On his dresser, he grabbed a plain black tee and his cut, donned them, and went back into the room across his. Moments later, she strode out of the closet wearing a pair of jeans, boots, a Harley tank, and a black leather jacket.
He stood motionless staring at her, at that jacket. So familiar, but it couldn’t be, it looked new. Closing the distance between them, his stare on the patch on the right, he grabbed one of her arms, turning her. Another patch yet bigger, reading the same, “Property of Ripper, Hell Ryders MC.”
She’d kept it, the leather he gave her so many years ago, and it was like new, like she’d treasured it. He swallowed the emotion clogging his throat.
She turned and met his gaze. “Something wrong?”
“Can’t believe—”
Lifting a brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Haven’t we been over this?”
He stilled.
Her face softened, looking at him that way he loved. “Always loved you, Bryce. I couldn’t get rid of it. I had to take care of it, even believing what I did.”
He looked away then. He didn’t, he’d end up kissing her, and then, the ride and her surprise would be long forgotten.
Grabbing her hand, he quickened his pace, led her outside, and hopped on his bike. She planted a hand on his shoulder, swung her leg over, cuddled close, legs tight against his, arms around his waist.
Just like before.
Just like they used to.
He rode off, the wind blowing against them. Her chest pressed against his back, arms tight around his midsection, he finally found what he’d chased for years. He didn’t know how to describe it. If he had to, he’d say it was a mixture of a bunch of things he always wanted: freedom, fulfilment, her.
At a stop light, Em lifted her butt off the seat and leaned into him. He turned his head, listening over the roaring of the engine, thinking she had something to say. Instead, she pressed a kiss to his jaw.
Just like before.
Just like she used to.
It was only a short ride to her surprise but worth it since Em enjoyed it as much as him. When he drove up to a house with large ba
y windows, she sighed.
Parking, he cut the engine, grabbed her hand, pressed it to his stomach then slanted his face toward hers. “We’re here.”
She smiled. “You rented a house for the night?”
He looked to the house she referred to: a big bungalow with four bedrooms, a two-car garage, and a big yard in front and back. He hadn’t done much with the yard, the front or back, so it didn’t have the curb appeal it should. He’d do something about that next. The inside, he’d remodeled to an open concept, both bathrooms and kitchen had been updated too.
“Naw, babe. It’s not rented. It’s ours.”
She tensed behind him. He let her take in that piece of information as he stood and helped her off his bike.
“It’s ours?”
He tugged her toward the front door. “Yeah, it’s ours. It’s home, or it will be as soon as this shit with the Falcons is over,” he added, going up five steps to the porch and door.
“You bought a house?”
He paused turning to her. “Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, hoping she’d drop the subject though he knew her well enough to know the chances of that happening were slim.
“I thought you said the club was clean.”
“Club is clean, babe.”
“I just…” She shook her head, her thick hair swayed. “It doesn’t make sense.”
She didn’t understand how he could afford her diamond band and a house without the club being involved in dirty dealings? The club made good money. What they did wasn’t entirely legal, but it wasn’t the shit they’d been involved in before. Still, for what they did and what they made, it didn’t mean he could afford it all at once unless he’d saved a shit ton of money. He had saved a ton because he had a house he bought years ago he kept rented. He lived at the compound, so most of the money he earned, he saved. Every now and then, between renters, he updated his house, so money went into that. Still, he had a bunch saved. Part of it went to buy her ring. The rest, he put in a college fund for Bree.
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