Bitter Sweet Deception (The Kingsmen M.C Book 4)

by Oakes, Tara

  “I love you,” she yells out.

  I kiss her deep, thanking her for that. I hold her tight until her body returns to normalcy.

  “And now…you’re gonna make me say it to you.” I roll us over so she’s sitting, straddling me. Her eyes cloud over, mischief creeping in.

  “Oh, I’m gonna make you say it, alright.”

  Bring it on.

  ******

  CHARLIE

  The house is quiet, it’s later than late. Clink is sleeping soundly next to me, the deep rattling of his even breathing is calming to me. I’m beyond tired, but the verbal confessions we made to each other a little while ago are swirling in my head.

  What he and I have is unique and special. I would have been just fine, I think, not labeling our feelings. But, now that they are, I find that I can’t stop grinning. He loves me. He said it over and over, and I believe every word. Staring up at the darkened ceiling, or at his sleeping body, is tormenting me. Nothing will spur on sleep. I’ve counted sheep, relived every moment of making love to him this last time, but I’m still wired. Still wide awake.

  I gently push off the blankets and slip out of bed. I swipe Clink’s bathrobe from the hook on the master bathroom wall and cover myself in it, cinching it at the waist. He’s out cold and doesn’t even stir from the tiny noises I’ve inadvertently made.

  I tiptoe down the hallway and pause in front of Brendan’s room. I turn the handle and open the door to check in on him. His small body is free from the blankets, having kicked loose from them at some point during the night. The muted light from his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle night light bathes his pajama-clad limbs. I rest against the door jamb and watch him.

  His chest inflates with each breath, and tiny vibrations accompany his breathing. I can’t help but wonder if this is what Clink looked like as a little boy. He’s such a good little boy. I can’t imagine what his mother is going through, but it’s got to be some pretty deep shit to make her willingly give him up.

  The fact that Ava was able to bring him to the point of fists today at the mere mention of his mother is further proof that he’s going to need some help dealing with this. I was lucky, I guess. I didn’t have to deal with parent issues until I was older, but I know it’s still affected me deeply. I don’t want that for Brendan. I”ll do whatever I can to make sure he gets through all this with as little trauma as possible.

  Oh my God! I wonder if my dad ever looked at me and thought the same thing when I was little? Even though I didn’t know it back then, he did. He knew I wasn’t his. He knew how it would hurt me and impact every part of my life if I found out. He was doing the exact same thing I’m vowing to do for Brendan right now. He was vowing to keep that hurt away from me.

  My heart hurts even more than when I usually think of him. I’m just thankful that I didn’t know the truth until after he passed. Every moment of our time together, he was my dad. I didn’t know any different. I know if I had, that it wouldn’t have changed how I felt about him one bit. But, I’m sure he would have thought that it did. Every time he looked at me, he would have wondered if I loved him any less. I’m so thankful that he never had to wonder.

  I close Brendan’s door and grab a quick glass of water from the kitchen before heading back to bed. Once inside our bedroom, I disrobe and climb back to bed, next to the man I love. The dipping of the mattress instinctively leads Clink to roll over to me. His massive arm wraps around me, covering me, protecting me.

  I love him.

  He may have said the words first, but damn, I can’t imagine him not saying the words from here on out, every moment, every day. Now I have it all. The man, the boy, the family, the club. I snuggle close to him and breath him in. And slowly…I fall asleep. Content. Happy.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ONE MONTH LATER

  “No…it’s no problem, babe” I peek beyond the kitchen into the living room where Brendan is playing with his Legos. The bright green colors of fighting turtles flash across the screen of Clink’s jumbo TV. “I’ve got some personal time at work. I’ll just call in and watch him until you guys get back.”

  I hear the releasing of his breath rattle across the receiver. “You sure, Sugar? I’m sure Jean can watch him until we get back to town.”

  “Babe. I’ll watch him. It’s fine. I want to. Besides, Lil’s is due any day now. I’m sure Jean is on high alert.” Secretly, i’m would rather watch him myself than have anyone else do it. Even if I have to piss off my charge nurse to do it.

  There’re background voices behind Clink calling to him. “Shit. I gotta go. Give the kid a kiss for me. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. Be safe,” I respond before he ends the call.

  I toss the disconnected phone aside and place my hands on my hips. All right then. Time to break out the board games.

  ******

  “Chawlee!! I’m all done!” my little buddy screams out from the opened bathroom door. It’s about time! Give the kid a bath filled with bubbles and a few toys, and he’s in heaven!

  By the time I enter the tiled bathroom, he’s already wrapped in an oversized towel I left for him, complete with patches of bubbles on his head and arms.

  I laugh at him, and help to pat him dry. He’d already selected his turtle pajamas, so I leave him to change into them and wait nearby with a comb. One of my favorite parts of the day is after he’s had his bath and I can comb his hair for him. Sunny did a great job in shaping things up and Brendan just loves when I make little spikes in the front of his hair. I move the comb carefully over his skin, making tiny tracks in his thick brown mane.

  “Chawlee?” he asks in a small voice as he sits for me to finish the grooming.

  “Yeah, bud?”

  He pauses himself, head bowed. I can’t see his facial expressions but I can read them through his voice.

  “Is my mommy coming back?”

  Oh crap.

  What am I supposed to say to this? I close my eyes tight and look for the right words. I don’t want to give him false hope, but I don’t want to lie to him, either. I set the comb down.

  “Brendan, look at me,” I turn the little boy to face me, and lift his downcast chin up, so he can see my sincerity as I speak. “Kiddo, your mom loves you a ton. More than anything. But, right now…she’s sick. That’s why you’re here with your dad and me. But,” I pinch his pint sized nose. “I know your daddy. And he loves you so much. I know he’s gonna make sure your momma gets better. And until then, you’ll stay with us. Is that OK?”

  Brendan pinches his lips together in thought before nodding up and down. I smile and bring him in for a hug, rocking back and forth.

  “OK” I carry him over to his bed, setting him down and tucking him in. “It’s time for you to get some sleep.”

  I kiss him on the forehead and pull the covers up to his chin. “Night, bud.”

  “Night, Chawlee.”

  ******

  CLINK

  We’ve been riding for hours. We were able to shave a little time off the run by detouring, but we’re still rolling into town late and behind schedule. I’m sweaty, hungry, and I stink like a fuckin’sweaty locker room.

  We’ve been burning the candle from both ends trying to get this job done, and it’s taken a toll. I can barely keep my eyes open, and the only thing that’s keeping me going is knowing that I’m on my way back to my family.

  The warehouse is lit, plenty of prospects ready to unload the cargo from the cage. The cover of night helps, but this shit has got to get in and out of sight fucking fast. The garage doors are opened and the cage drives in. I park my bike next to Vince. With Jay bowing out of this run to stay home with Lil’s, I’ve been second in command. I volunteered to lead the run myself so that Vince could sit it out, but the stubborn motherfucker wouldn’t hear it.

  He’s been pulling his weight as well as Jay’s for the last couple of weeks while Lil’s is ready to pop. He’s never been the type of Prez to sit back and let his rank bring him his mone
y…he’s out in the trenches with the rest of us, earning.

  “I want these crates in the hole in less than fifteen minutes!” he calls out to the swarm of leather-clad brothers unpacking the haul.

  The warehouse is out in the boonies, at least twenty minutes from town. Now that I have an ETA, I text Sugar that I’ll be home in a half hour, ready for a hot plate, hot shower, and an even hotter piece of ass.

  “Hey, boss,” I walk up to Vince. “I got this from here. You get home. You look like shit.”

  Vince stumbles on his own feet. “I’ll get home when I damn well feel like it.”

  I hold up my hands in concession. His funeral, not mine. Jean is gonna tear him a new one when he goes walking through the door looking like he does. He needs a lot more than just some rest, food, and pussy. The dumb asshole needs a fucking vacation.

  “You let me know how that works out for you, chief. Your ol’lady don’t seem like the patient kind when you overdo shit.” I bid my brothers farewell and climb on my bike.

  “Do as you like, but I’m going home to my lady and the little homecoming she’s got waiting.”

  T.J. strolls by and fist bumps me in agreement.

  I’m twenty-nine minutes closer to being in between those thighs.

  ******

  I roll over, pushing my body off Sugar’s so I don’t crush her tiny frame. I pant hard and fast as my body recoups itself. Holy shit! No way in hell did I think I had the energy for that. But, one look at her sweet ass and my cock takes over. Now my body is gonna pay for it.

  “That was…” I try to verbalize what I’m feeling, what we’ve just done, but exhaustion leaves my tongue tied.

  Sugar throws her arm around me, nibbling on my nipple, “Fantastic?”

  I laugh quietly, “Fantastic.”

  She settles into me, sighing contentedly. Damn right she’s content. I make sure my woman’s taken care of, regardless of how bone tired I am. And now that that’s taken care of, I can finally get some fucking sleep.

  Maybe not.

  We both reach for our respective phones from each table by our side of the bed. It’s fucking late as hell and to have both phones going haywire isn’t the best of signs.

  “Yeah?” I tune out Charlie’s own questions into her cell from near me.

  “Bro, you better get down to Mercy, man. Vince is in the O.R.”

  I can’t exactly make out the voice, as he sounds just as worn and beat as I am. But at this point, it doesn’t fucking matter who it is.

  I spring to my feet, casting the covers aside, flipping the light switch.

  “I’ll be there in twenty.” I waste no time in tossing the useless phone aside and jumping into my jeans. Sugar has me beat, halfway dressed and piling her hair into some enormous clip to avoid having to brush it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask her, unable to catch her attention as she darts around the room searching for her shoe. She shows no sign of hearing me, leaving me no choice but to lunge to catch her and hold her. Her eyes are wild, frenzied.

  “Babe!” I shake her lightly, snapping her from her daze. “What are you doing?”

  She blinks hard. “Hospital. I have to get to the hospital. He….”

  “I know. I’m going now. You stay here with Brendan. We don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t need to be there yet,” I try talking some sense into her.

  She shakes her head, not agreeing with my words. “I-you don’t understand. I have to-”

  “Charlie!” I sit her on the bed, facing me. “You need to listen to me. You need to stay here with Brendan. I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on.”

  Hey eyes are intense, full of sorrow. She’s never shown as much as an ounce of interest in the prez before. In fact, I always thought she hated him by the way she avoided him. It’s good to see her taking such an interest in other club members, but now is not the time to deal with another hysterical woman. We’ll have our hands full with Jean and Lil’s.

  “But, Lil’s…she said he’s going into surgery. I should be there,” she’s begging.

  Of course. She wants to be there for Lil’s. I don’t blame her, but there’s a time and a place for that. Right now, she’s needed here, with our family.

  I hold her chin in my hand. “There’s nothing you can do right now, babe. I’ll call you when I get there. Brendan is gonna need you here.” She moves her lips to protest once more. “Sugar! That’s enough!”

  She claps her lips tight, and I can tell she’s clenching her teeth. But, she doesn’t move. I walk into the closet empty handed, but return with a shirt and a Glock 48. She eyes the gun hard, probably unaware it was even hidden in the gun safe concealed in the depths of my clothes.

  I pull the chamber and prepare the first bullet before placing it on the nightstand. “Babe. You need to hear every word of this,” I make sure I have her undivided attention. I’m about to leave her with a loaded pistol with my son just rooms away. “This is easy to use if you have to. I’ll have a prospect here in fifteen minutes, but until then, you shoot anyone who walks through the front door if he doesn’t have a Kingsmen patch.”

  I set the gun down carefully. Her eyes never leave the piece.

  I don’t know what the fuck is going on, why Vince is in the hospital. We don’t have any beef right now with anyone, but I’m not taking any chances. The two things, people, I love most are in this house and I’m not chancing anything happening to them.

  “Nod that you understand me, Charlie.”

  She nods. I breathe deep. I bend down to kiss her, hard, before grabbing my boots and my cut and hightailing it out of here.

  ******

  CHARLIE

  I can’t breath. I’m suffocating. There is a loaded gun on my bedside table, and I’m left alone at two thirty in the morning to protect Brendan from Lord knows what, and a man who I loathe more than anything having a medical crisis yet I can’t hold myself back from wanting to go see him. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m a strong person. I can cope with shit.

  Why am I falling apart right now?

  Breathe. I just need to breathe. It’s fine, I’m sure. He probably drank himself stupid and fell or ate something and has a wicked case of heartburn and Jean’s just on the cautious side…making him go to the ER to rule out a heart issue. We get so many of those. A crazy, late-night burrito giving them wicked acid indigestion and everyone thinks it’s a heart attack.

  Yeah…that’s what it is. I’ll bet they send him home with a script for some Omeprazol and a dietary warning. Not like he’ll listen to it…he’s as cooperative as a rabid dog. I laugh to myself, getting all worked up over him.

  But, Lil’s did say they were taking him into surgery. They wouldn’t do that for just some heartburn. My breaths quicken. My pulse races. Why do I even care? It’s not like he even means anything to me.

  I try to calm myself. I need to stay here. I need to watch over Brendan. He’s the most important thing right now. Not some dead-beat, low-life, two-bit prick lying in a hospital bed. Clink trusts me to watch over his son. Whatever it is, he thought it serious enough to leave me with a gun.

  I close my eyes and count to five. That’s all I’m gonna give him. Five seconds of my time, of my thoughts, before I move on and leave his fate to the doctors. He’s their problem now.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “It doesn’t make any sense, Charlie! The doctor’s have told me that I’m anemic before. I didn’t end up in the hospital!” Lil’s cries into my shoulder.

  I rub her shoulder, consoling her. “Lil’s, it’s not exactly the same thing. Aplastic anemia is much more serious than just a low iron count. I promise you, they are gonna do everything they need to do.”

  She shakes her head, not allowing herself to believe me. “But they want to give him chemotherapy…” she recounts. “Cancer patients have chemo, Charlie. People die from cancer.”

  Jean and Jay are sitting bedside with Vince, and I’ve taken Lil’s out for some fresh air.
The sun is setting behind the hospital and the air is starting to chill, but she needs to stay out of that room for a little longer.

  “He doesn’t have cancer, Lil’s. The doctors are going to use the toxic chemicals in the chemotherapy to kill off the bad cells that are making him sick.” She watches me, cautiously. “Then…hopefully the good cells that are left, will be able to make more good cells.”

  Her eyes widen, “Hopefully?”

  I know this is not new information to her. I know the nurses and doctors have been walking them all through the treatments step by step. But I also know that hearing it from Me will bear more weight than a stranger in a lab coat.

  “It’s very successful, Lil’s.” I hand her a tissue.

  She takes it and dabs her eyes. “But not always. None of us match yet. They told us they need to find a bone marrow donor in case this doesn’t work. Jay wasn’t a match, Lil’s.”

  It’s true. Every Kingsmen has been tested, and even members of the community have stepped forward during the last week to determine if they can donate to Vince. I knew the odds were not in their favor. Statistically, a blood relative is the best chance. We were all holding our breath after Jay was tested, but…he wasn’t a match.

  Jay was devastated when the doctors broke that news. Clink and Tiny had to take him out of the room to prevent him from breaking down in front of his parents.

  “The baby…” Lil’s sniffles. “They said the baby could be a match.”

  I hold my breath. The baby could be a match, but unless Lil’s goes into labor asap or they induce her to go earlier, it might not be in time. Vince had been classified as having very severe acute anemia. Every day counts.

  The thought of what that poor little baby would have to go through to donate…I shake my head. It’s an unnecessary risk. And a gamble.

  “We should get you inside, Lil’s. It’s gonna get colder soon.”