by J. L. Leslie
Movement catches my attention. I pick the binoculars up and watch. One of the Eagles walks out, something tucked underneath his arm. It’s a damn laptop. Of course, it could be anyone’s laptop, but the fact that it has a sticker plastered on it for Southern Hospitality Rehab tells me exactly who it belongs to. Paul Crews. The Fallen Eagles do have him.
But why?
“You seeing what I’m seeing?” I ask.
“Yep.”
I pull off and head back to the clubhouse, the laptop confirmation enough for me. I need to take this to Mason. See how he wants to handle it. Maybe we can do a sit down with the Eagles. Make a trade. Fuck, give them a shipment of guns or something.
Starting a war isn’t an option, but I need this favor done. Over. Even if it means bringing Allie’s fiancé back to her.
ALLIE
I scoop the french fries out of the fryer and put them onto the plate, letting them cool. The clubhouse has been empty today for the most part. Dash has been here, but he’s been outside detailing the bikes. I teased him that bike washing is a prospect’s job. He’s still a club bitch.
Jake and Seth are out on a run. Carson and Munsey are on their way back from a delivery. Skylar is working over at the clinic. Maisy and Wes are both sleeping.
I sprinkle some shredded cheese and bacon bits on the hot fries before grabbing a soda out of the fridge. I take a seat at the bar and dig in, thumbing through the contacts in my phone while I eat. I haven’t really kept in touch with anyone from the rehab, but I have a few phone numbers. Won’t hurt to reach out.
Mid text to the second contact, an arm reaches over my shoulder and grabs a handful of my cheesy fries. Hunter shoves them into his mouth before I can slap his hand away.
“Get your own.”
“Yours are just fine.”
He goes for more and I swat at his hand, the both of us grabbing for the plate at the same time. His chest presses against my back and one arm goes around my waist as we practically wrestle over my food. He manages to snag another handful, and I grip his wrist, doing my best to keep him from eating them as I rise from the stool.
He laughs as I struggle, easily bringing the fries to his mouth. He leaves one out and offers it to me. When I go to grab it, he shakes his head. I realize then exactly how close we are. The stool I was sitting on has been pushed to the side. My back is now against the counter, his knee wedged between my legs. He offers the fry again, and I open my mouth, letting him push it inside. My lips graze over his fingertips as I close my mouth.
We share a heated look, his gaze shifting to my lips. I fight the urge to kiss him. I can’t blame it on adrenaline. That’s what I account last night as being. An adrenaline rush or whatever. He woke me in the middle of the night and threw me over his shoulder like a damn caveman. Had to be adrenaline.
But now? There’s no adrenaline. Just this charged air between us. This fucking chemistry I wish I could ignore. I don’t want to chase him any longer. I’ve done that long enough. Way too long. I have to stop.
Hunter rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, and because I’m a glutton for punishment, I lick it. His eyes darken to this deep shade of blue, and his head starts to descend.
“Both balls!” Dash exclaims, walking into the clubhouse, Bishop in tow. “I’m not shitting you.”
Hunter leans back, dropping his hand. Bishop and Dash continue to argue over what did or did not happen to Dash’s balls while Hunter steals a few more fries from my plate. He flashes me a smirk mid-chew and I roll my eyes.
“If she got both in her mouth at the same time, it either means she’s a big mouth bitch or your balls are the size of donut holes,” Bishop says.
I stifle a laugh, and then Wes starts crying. I move to get up when Hunter heads his way. He gently lifts him from the bassinet and cradles him in his arms as he goes and sits on the couch, letting me finish my food.
I told Skylar it was up to Hunter if he wanted a relationship with Wes. To be part of his life. We haven’t had that conversation yet. I’m holding back from it. Once that offer is out there, he could take it, and then I’ll never be able to truly escape him. What’s crazier is I don’t know if I even want to. A year without him was long enough.
HUNTER
I feel myself dozing, my son sleeping soundly against my chest. Not sure how long we’ve been here. Allie finished eating and asked if she could get a shower. I’m about to get up when I see her emerge from the hallway, Dash chatting with her. He stares at her damn tits. Those fuckers are on display. Her perfect damn nipples poking through the thin material of her T-shirt. He’s practically salivating.
I glare over at them, jealousy coursing through me. She’s smiling at him, not this look of hatred she gives to me the majority of the time. Sure, I may have had her body, but I also get the despise that comes with her giving in to me. The regret. The guilt.
Wes starts wiggling, smacking his little gums. Guess he knows it’s time to eat. Allie approaches us, and I stand up, handing him over to her. She reaches into the bassinet and pulls out a blanket, draping it over him as she sits down in the recliner. Even though I can’t see it, I know she’s popping her tit out so he can latch on.
“Is this pretty much his routine?” I ask. “Sleep and eat?”
“And cry,” she says with a laugh. “He plays too. He’s a good baby.”
“Maisy is too. I mean, she doesn’t seem to cry a lot. Sometimes when she wakes up, she lies there looking around, like she’s taking everything in.”
“He does that. I think he’s interested in knowing what’s going on. Knowing about his surroundings.”
“Nosy fucker,” I say with a chuckle. “Tell me about him. You know, what it was like being pregnant and having him. If you don’t mind.”
Her brow crinkles a little as she frowns, and I wonder if she’s going to talk to me. She’s in front of me, breastfeeding my son, and I know nothing about his life. About what she went through to have him.
“Well, I was in rehab when I found out I was pregnant. Talk about a shock. I knew it was yours, and I knew I had screwed up with my addiction. I was so scared I’d done something to hurt him, scared I’d caused irreparable damage. He was lucky,” she says, a slight quiver to her voice. “The pregnancy was pretty uneventful. I had the usual morning sickness, a few cravings, but I was in rehab, so I didn’t really get to have what I wanted.”
“What kind of cravings?”
“Nothing too out of the ordinary. I always wanted watermelon. And I wanted that spray-can cheese. You know, the kind you squirt on crackers? God, I wanted that more than anything.”
“They wouldn’t get you those things?”
“No.” She laughs. “It’s not like I could put in an order. Anyway, it didn’t matter. I was there to get clean, and I did. That’s the important thing.”
“Were you there when you went into labor? In rehab?”
I shake my head. “No, I was home with Paul already. Um…Wes came a little earlier than expected. Guess he was impatient. I was standing in the bathroom when my water broke. Paul drove me to the hospital and stayed by my side the entire time. I ended up having an emergency C-section.”
“That doesn’t sound like it went well. The way you say it.”
“It didn’t. There were complications. Serious complications. I winded up needing a hysterectomy.”
“I had no idea.” No idea she can’t have any more kids. How did that affect her? It couldn’t have been easy, and I wasn’t there for her. Paul was.
“How could you?” she asks, then winces as if in pain, shifting Wes to the other boob.
“Do you…you know, pump those things?”
She giggles. “These things? You mean my boobs?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Your boobs. Do you pump the milk out of them? Like into bottles or whatever?”
“I do. I actually prefer to do it that way. Keeps me from being so sore and sensitive. And from…um, leaking so much.”
I glance down. “Why aren’
t you doing it that way now? With a bottle?”
“Well, you kind of burst into my home in the middle of the night. I didn’t really think about grabbing my pump or the bottles, and there wasn’t one in his diaper bag. My brain was kind of frazzled.”
Wes’s tiny hand shoots out from beneath the blanket, clutching at her shirt. She simply takes it, letting him wrap his fingers around hers.
“Does Paul help with him a lot?” I ask, unsure I really want to know the answer.
I do know the Eagles have him, and the Souls want him. And what does that say about the man who’s been raising my son? Is he caught up in some shit? Is he innocent in all this or hiding something sinister? I really have no idea. I just don’t think it’s a coincidence two MCs are fighting over this guy.
“I don’t think you really want to know the answer to that, Hunter.”
I frown. “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
“Why? Why do you want to know that?”
I shrug. “He’s been raising my kid. I think I have the right to know if he’s been good to him.”
“Of course he has.”
I nod slowly, knowing that was the response she would give me. She wouldn’t be with the guy if he wasn’t good to her. He’s the exact opposite of me. That’s what she wants. What she deserves.
“If you decide you want to be part of Wes’s life, I won’t keep you out of it,” she says, exhaling a breath. “You should know that.”
“That’s good to know. Listen, when you get finished with that, we can go get your things. You’ll both be staying here until we find your guy.”
And after I find him…well, we can figure that shit out then.
ALLIE
I pull into the garage and hit the button to close the door behind us, sealing us inside. I don’t want any of my neighbors noticing me coming and going this late. They’re probably already wondering where both Paul and I have been. I push the door open and step back to let Hunter go in the house first, waiting while he takes a look around.
“It’s clear!” he calls out, and I join him inside.
“You sure Wes is okay at the clubhouse?”
“Yeah, so long as he doesn’t get hungry.”
“He should be good for a couple hours,” I tell him and head down the hall.
I get his large diaper bag, packing it with diapers, wipes, and plenty of clothes. Then, I carry it to the kitchen and get his bottle warmer and a few bottles.
“He need anything else?” Hunter asks.
“Um, maybe a few of his toys and his blanket over there.”
“I’ll get it. You go grab your things.”
Walking to my bedroom, I get a suitcase down from the closet. I stand, staring at my clothes a moment. Is it strange to feel like I’m going home instead of leaving my home?
I’ve been comfortable here with Paul, always felt welcome, but this house has never really been my home. It’s his home. I’ve been a guest here. I thought with time that feeling would change. Maybe that life is for Jane. Not Allie.
I gather some of my clothes and toss them into the suitcase along with a couple pairs of shoes, then head over to the dresser for some underclothes, tossing the cotton bra and panties in, my eyes lingering on the sexy stuff. I don’t need it, I know that. Still, I grab a few lacy things and toss them in against my better judgment.
“You ready?”
I slam the suitcase shut at the sound of Hunter’s voice, fumbling with the zipper. He walks over and puts his hand over mine, his eyes staying on me as he helps me zip it.
“Yep, I’m ready.”
That’s a loaded statement. When he’s like this…I don’t know, nice, I’m not sure how to handle him. Handling Hunter is not something I’ve ever done. Just when I think I have him figured out, he shocks the hell out of me.
“You sure you have everything you need? Everything Wes needs?”
“I think so. We can always come—”
“I don’t want to come back here,” he says sternly. “Not until this shit with Paul is figured out.”
Again, I feel like he’s hiding something from me. Does he know where Paul is? Has something happened to him? Why won’t he just tell me?
“When will that be? This is where I live, Hunter. Remember? I can’t stay away forever.”
“Only until it’s safe.”
“What are you hiding?” I ask. “Because I know you’re hiding something from me.”
“Let’s go.”
He picks my suitcase up, and I grab his arm as he turns to walk away. “Is he dead? Tell me that. If he’s dead, don’t keep that from me.”
“I don’t have any proof that he’s not alive,” he replies. “That’s the truth, Allie.”
I let go of his arm. “Thank you.”
“You really want me to bring him back to you?”
I open my mouth to answer and hesitate, desperate to find some sort of reason to say otherwise in Hunter’s expression. He gives me nothing. No indication he wants me for himself. I should’ve known better.
“Yes. I want you to bring Paul back to me.”
HUNTER
I ride in silence as Allie drives us back to the clubhouse. I wanted to take one of the club’s vehicles, but she insisted on driving Paul’s car. Said it was the least she could do. He has a nice ride. I’ll give him that. Fully fucking loaded Cadillac CT5-V, leather seats with the damn warmers, and a sunroof. Pretty expensive car for a nurse’s salary. Skylar could barely make ends meet on her own, and this fucker is driving around an eighty-thousand-dollar vehicle.
“This thing got a built-in GPS?” I ask, pointing to the screen on the dash.
“Um…yeah, I think so. Paul is horrible with directions, and sometimes he travels to other rehab centers for work.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“I didn’t think about it,” she says with a shrug. “I know he’s traveled to Huntsville and Montgomery, just wherever the sister rehab centers are.”
I press the touchscreen and go to the history, scrolling through the previous addresses. I’m not surprised to see the Souls’ clubhouse in it. If I didn’t know he’s somehow affiliated with them, it would probably be shocking, but that ship has sailed. I keep scrolling, finding another familiar address that does shock me. It also pisses me off.
Skylar’s former address. The one she was snatched from. Why the hell would Paul have gone there?
I clear the screen and do my best to hide my anger. I’ve been trying to give this guy the benefit of the doubt — for Allie’s sake, but things aren’t adding up.
“Thanks for letting me get our things,” Allie says, pulling up at the clubhouse.
“Yeah,” I mutter, getting out.
Her door slams, her footsteps hot on my trail. “What the hell happened? Why the sudden mood change?”
I ignore her, getting the two bags out of the back. She closes the door for me and follows me inside. I look around for any sign of Mason. I can’t keep putting off talking to him. He needs to know what’s going on.
“Hunter, talk to me,” Allie pleads. “You were fine, and now you’re not.”
“Get the fuck out of my way, Allie.”
She looks stunned, hurt, but she steps aside, and I walk past her to the bar. The blonde chick is working. I ask her where Mason is, and she shrugs, telling me she thinks he’s in his bedroom with a couple girls. Damn. I can’t interrupt that.
“How about Bishop?”
“He’s on patrol or whatever,” she answers. “Looks like you need to blow off some steam.”
I turn around and spot Jake at the pool table with Munsey. I hate to ask him for a motherfucking thing, but I’m not stupid enough to go alone. I may owe Dean a favor, but the fucker is unpredictable. I don’t trust him. And I need answers before I fulfill my end of the bargain.
“I need you to go for a ride with me,” I say when I approach him.
I expect him to ask questions, considering we haven’t been on the best of t
erms for quite some time. He doesn’t, though. Not a single one. No hesitation.
“Let me get my cut,” he says, then adds, “How many guns do we need?”
I chuckle. Just like old times.
ALLIE
I watch as Hunter and Jake pull off on their bikes, then I crank up the car. Wes is sleeping soundly in his car seat. I’m probably making a huge mistake, but I’m going to find out what Hunter’s hiding from me.
“What the hell are you up to?” Skylar demands, opening the back passenger door.
She buckles Maisy’s car seat in before I can explain and opens the passenger door to get in. She puts her seatbelt on and looks over at me, waiting.
“I’m following Hunter,” I answer, pulling away from the clubhouse. “And Jake.”
“I figured as much. Any idea where they’re going?”
“No. We went to get some things from my house, and Hunter looked through Paul’s GPS. Next thing I know, he’s being a damn fuck nugget, and demanding I get out of his way.”
“He’s hiding something.”
“And I want to know what it is. I didn’t come to the club for help, only to be kept in the dark. If they know something about Paul, I want to know what it is.”
“I’m not sure what you expected. It became club business when you came to them,” Skylar says.
“It’s still my business. Paul is my fiancé. He went missing from our house. I’ve done everything the club has asked, and they’re keeping things from me. I think they know where he is.”
“Oh my God,” Skylar murmurs.
“What? What is it?”
“I think I know where they’re going. Pull over. We can’t follow them there.”
“The hell we can’t.”
“I’m serious! Pull over, Allie. Go back to the clubhouse. I’ll explain everything on the way.”
Her voice trembles, her fear bleeding through. Slowing down, I make a right turn and drive the new road for a few minutes before turning around, not wanting to look suspicious.