Indebted: 'Til Death Do Us Part (Teal & Trent Book 3)

by Inger Iversen

  What the fuck kind of man was he? And why, right at this moment, was he thinking about sinking his dick inside his soon to be ex-wife? If not for one last taste on his end, but to remind her that no man would ever know her body the way he did.

  As if his body needed to remind her, his dick hardened and his hips moved on reflex from being cradle between his woman’s thighs.

  “You’re not fucking your way out of this.” Teal’s tone froze him mid-thrust, sending ice down his back. “You’re asking me to sit by, while you murder a man.”

  “Teal, he sold his daughter.”

  She scoffed. “So says a fucking murderer from some shit-ass motorcycle club in some backwoods hick fucking town. I told you. Just call the cops and report this!”

  “Baby, that is not how this works.”

  “So, you are jeopardizing our future on the word of a fucking hoodlum?” Twisting her wrists, she freed herself from his slackened grasp, but didn’t make a move to get up. Instead, she placed both warm palms against his chest and pushed. Trent moved just enough for her to sit up.

  “Listen.” In that moment, exhaustion swept over his body. All the lying, the stress, and the fear caught up to him, pushing him over the edge. “I’m going to kill him, or Ace is going to kill me.”

  Teal simply nodded. She’d been through enough, seen enough of his fucked-up life, that she was no longer surprised with such announcements. Maybe, before the Jake and Shayla incident, it would have shocked her. But now, Teal seemed to have come to accept it. Or had she?

  “I put myself in a bad place many years ago, and now my life is on the line. And if they think I don’t value my life, well, they sure as fuck know I value yours.” He swept a hand over his wife’s head, helping her soft, springy curls lay back in place because he didn’t have the guts to wipe away her tears.

  Was this the end? Was this all the goodbye Trent would be afforded?

  He shook his head. “I can handle them hurting me, believe it or not. But what I can’t handle is—”

  “Did they actually threaten me or Emma?” Her question was calm, steady, and practiced. She’d been waiting to ask this exact question. “Because the idea of being in the crosshairs of another madman . . .” Her words faltered and then it happened. Teal broke, or rather Trent broke Teal.

  She sobbed so hard, Trent nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “I—I can’t . . .” Her words stuttered over cries and wails that tore the fuck through Trent’s heart. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

  Why the fuck did he think he could do this? Be a husband and a father, when his past was nothing more than landmines? And to top it off, she’d fought so hard to reunite him with Markus. Was that all for nothing? He’d taken her away from her life and placed her in hell, and he hoped he burned in hell. Fuck him and fuck this.

  He pulled Teal into his arms, aware of the fact that today may be the last time he held her. Teal was not weak. Her tears didn’t signify her weakness, but instead her understanding that she was worth more than this fucking bullshit Trent had to offer.

  He was dying inside, his heart shattering into a million pieces, as he imagined laying down at night without the warmth of this incredible woman beside him.

  He’d never been so lost in his life. Not even when he thought he had to give Teal up to raise a baby with Shayla. He’d thought himself a martyr, but now, he was just a fucking fool. There were some things that were more important than the idea of doing what you thought was right. Now, he was faced with making the same choice. Only, his life and the life of his loved ones were at stake.

  And Markus, what the fuck would happen there? As if his heart knew the answer before his mush of a brain had a chance to compute, a steel cage pulled itself around the beating mass of shit and slammed shut. Losing any of his family would be his death.

  “I wake up every night,” she started, and Trent knew this to be true. He’d felt the bed dip as she left the room. “I check doors, windows, rooms, and I make sure all your guns are loaded and ready.”

  Trent was just barely able to hear her words, but her thin, quiet words echoed in his ears.

  She covered her face and pulled inward, seeking comfort from herself because Trent was no longer a form of comfort to her. “I am strong. And while I haven’t had to survive war and poverty, I know what it is like to persevere when no one expects you to. But what do you do when you aren’t sure you will survive yourself?” She shook her head and shrunk into herself even more. “Sometimes, I actually wonder if I taste like mud.”

  Her wording confused him. What was she talking about?

  “How, in only a few moments, did Jake convince me that I taste like mud? How insane is that?”

  “Fuck, baby.” Trent damn near couldn’t speak, the lump in his throat so fucking large, he choked as he tried to take in air. “I told you we needed to get you help. The nightmares are often the start—” Trent’s words were cut off by the sound of his front door flying open. There, at the threshold to his home, stood Gator, Mutt, and Ace dressed in black leather and their cuts.

  Ace’s sneer widened as he took in the site of Teal and Trent. “Sandbag, I thought I told you midnight. And here it is, ten minutes after the hour.”

  Teal made to move away from the trio as they entered Trent’s home. The sounds of heavy boots, moving leathers, and the scent of smoke surrounded Trent. He stood, helping his wife up as he straightened.

  Gator made his way to the fridge and yanked out a beer. “Good thing I planned this shit for the witching hour.” He winked at Teal as she gave him a questioning glance.

  Trent threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her into him. He let out a relieved breath when Teal didn’t pull away.

  Gator glanced around his home, his eyes stopping on the mess he and Teal had made, an amused look on his face.

  “Looks like y’all were either fucking or fighting.” Mutt’s cool tone came from the door, where he casually leaned against the wall, cigarette perched between his lips.

  “None of your fucking business,” Teal muttered, her body still rigid.

  “If y’all are so ready, let’s fucking go.” Trent herded Teal to the door.

  Once outside, he leaned down and picked up the phone and placed it in her hand. Trent wanted to taste Teal before she left, and he did so, uncaring that the moment was sullied by the presence of Ace and his men, or even the fact that Teal didn’t melt into his arms the way she used to.

  When Trent pulled back, he sensed the ultimatum coming from her before she even opened her mouth.

  “If you do this . . .” Taking in a deep breath she paused, as if needing strength to continue. Trent remained silent, waiting as she gathered the nerve to tell him to go and fuck himself. “If you do this, I can’t be here when you come back. Emma and I—we can’t be a part of this life.”

  Her fatalistic tone scared the hell out of him, and Trent knew this wasn’t some exaggerated threat. He made to speak, to remind her that he was doing this for his family, but Ace, who’d been unusually quiet, grunted from behind him.

  “Looks like you got a choice to make, Marine.” He stepped out of the house, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene. “Walk away from her . . .” The sound of his boots hitting the porch grew louder, and one of the men lit a cigarette, while the other cocked his weapon. “Or you can walk away from me.”

  The not-so-veiled threat reminded Trent that when this was over, Ace would pay. He swallowed hard before he looked back to Teal.

  But Ace wasn’t done. “Don’t make the wrong choice, because if you think I’ve been an asshole to her before, well then Marine, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Trent glanced around, taking in Mutt’s restless movements, and Gator’s gun, cocked and loaded.

  He closed the little distance between him and Teal, and leaned down and kissed her lips. The taste of her so familiar and sweet, his body yearned for more.

  Holding back, he moved away and side stepped, making room fo
r her to go back in the house. “You may want to pack some shit up for you and Emma Mae.”

  Teal closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and swayed, before opening them and turning away. The cold hollow sound of her voice punched Trent in the gut. “There’s nothing left for us in that house; nothing that can’t be replaced.”

  Those words wounded him more than any bullet ever had, pained him more than the sight of her walking away, because she was right. There wasn’t anything in that home she couldn’t replace, including him.

  He watched the taillights as they disappeared into the night, his gut churning until finally, his body went numb.

  Mutt slapped Trent on the back, then draped an arm over his shoulder. “She’ll come back. They always do.”

  Trent turned and eyed the man. He hadn’t expected the candor of his voice, nor the look of understanding in his eyes when his gaze met his. But just as fast as it been there, it was gone, along with the weight of his arm.

  “Fuck yeah, even when you tell them bitches to stay gone.” Gator shoved his gun back in his pants and clapped his hands together. “Let’s get this shit on the road, shall we?” He shoulder-bumped Trent as he pushed past him.

  Trent growled. “You motherfuckers want to act like you didn’t cost me the one thing—”

  “No, no.” Ace’s voice was low and menacing. “Dipping your dick in that blonde chick when you knew she wasn’t worth more than a one-time fuck. That’s what cost you.” Ace pointed to the direction Teal had driven off in. “You want that woman back? You shore up your past and get your fucking shit in order.”

  Trent felt his hand grip his gun, and before he knew it, his gun was drawn and pointed in Ace’s mean-looking mug. The reason Ace had a gun in his face wasn’t because he’d called in his boon, it was because Trent knew he was right. Shayla had been trouble from the second she’d sauntered her ass up to him. The problem was, he hadn’t cared. He’d had an image to uphold, and a blonde bombshell on his arm added to the picture, no matter how much of a pain in the ass she’d been.

  “Shit, man,” Gator’s slow southern drawl held a warning Trent wasn’t sure he’d heed. “Calm down, Marine.”

  He heard the boots moving to attention, and the guns being pulled from leathers. Though his mind told him that even with his three weapons, he was outgunned and outnumbered, he couldn’t find the fucking sense to lower the gun.

  Ace’s lips curved into a knowing smile. He knew—hell, everyone knew—that Trent was fucked six ways till Sunday if he pulled the trigger.

  Trent moved the gun what seemed to be a millimeter away from his mark, his aim somewhere off in the distance, and pulled the trigger. The sound of the bullet exploding from the muzzle shocked him out of his rage, and reminded him of what he had to lose had he shot Ace.

  Ace smiled and strode to Trent, gun in hand. Though his gait flowed like water, slow, sure, and steady, a tumultuous storm raged behind his eyes. “Marine, I’m gonna give you that one, seeing as how your lady friend broke your heart and all.”

  Trent felt his temper boiling up again, his aversion to this man and infuriation at his own situation, pulled bile from his gut and pushed it up his throat. Still, the only fear Trent felt was at the loss of his wife and child.

  He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm his raging nerves. He couldn’t allow himself to get killed, whether he was coming back to an empty home or not.

  “But the next time you aim that mother fucker at me . . .” Ace eyed Trent with the devious smile of a man who feared nothing—a man with nothing to lose. “You better pull that goddamned trigger.”

  Chapter 20

  Street signs blurred, changing into splotches of unrecognizable shapes and colors as she sped down the wet pavement. Rain poured from the sky and her windshield wipers struggled to keep up. She couldn’t even remember when the rain had started to fall, let alone where the hell she was going. Was it the rain or her tears blinding her?

  Suddenly she felt relieved she’d dropped Emma off with Poe’s sister because she couldn’t see the road ahead of her—figuratively and literally. Though panic raced through her veins, Teal pressed the gas harder. She needed to get somewhere, and at this moment, the where and the how didn’t matter.

  She’d known Trent was lying to her about calling Logan back at the hotel, but she’d never thought it was this huge of a lie. Trent had erased shit from her phone, but he’d missed the fact that she could retrieve deleted messages. Was she the fool for placing her trust in such a broken man? Hell, she’d defended his actions on more than one occasion by blaming his past.

  She expected others to forgive and forget, but was it even possible for her to do the same? For better or worse she’d promised. But Teal could not imagine herself sitting on a cold plastic bench, with a phone to her ear, as she spoke to Trent behind Plexiglas. More than that, she couldn’t imagine taking Emma into the prison waiting room.

  Placing a call on Bluetooth, in the new SUV she now couldn’t afford since she’d given up her job, she called the one man that a year ago she’d considered a no-good criminal.

  Logan answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?” Never had Teal thought Logan’s voice would be a comfort to her, but the sound of the big man’s sleepy tone sent Teal into a fit of relieved tears. “Fuck, you having those dreams again?”

  Teal listened as he left the bed and entered another room. His voice growing louder, as if he were no longer worried about waking his family.

  She briefly wondered why she hadn’t called Katie. That woman was her best friend. But of all the people in the world, Logan was the only other person who had Trent’s ear, his trust, and his unconditional love.

  Teal released a shuddering breath. “I’m filing for divorce, and I—I need a place to stay.” While her words were met with silence, she sensed even through the vast connection of the phone, Logan wasn’t the least bit shocked. Her calls to him were no secret, in fact, Trent had been the one to recommend it, seeing as how Teal felt pressured by him to see someone for her nightmares.

  Though Teal suspected Trent only suggested Logan in order to have him convince her to see a shrink, she had come to believe talking to Logan would help. Logan treated her like an adult, and not some hapless ninny.

  “What’d he do?” That thick southern drawl, mingled with the sound of defeat, broke her heart. “I know it wasn’t another woman, ‘cause that just ain’t our boy.”

  “You don’t know him, after all the secrets he’s kept from you, how could you think that you know him? Hell, he’s inside me every night, and I still don’t even know him.”

  Logan gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, I—I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Teal.” After a moment of silence, as Teal struggled to stay within the lines on the interstate, he pressed for more. “Now, not that I mind, but you want to tell me why you called this late? And where are you?” He paused, then added, “Teal, what the fuck is that sound in the background?”

  “It’s raining and I’m on the interstate. Logan, I need to get back to my daughter, but I don’t know where I am, where I am going, or even who the fuck I am married to.” Gripping the wheel tighter, Teal opened her mouth and let loose a shrill scream. “I am so lost, and he is going to kill someone, Logan. What the fuck is happening in my life?”

  Teal wanted to rage, but she also didn’t want to die in a fiery car crash on I58. “And what the hell is this, a movie? These motorcycle gangbangers are helping fuck up this marriage.”

  Logan let loose a litany of curses in the background. The helplessness and concern in his voice upped her panic. If Logan was at a loss, then what the hell was she supposed to do?

  “Fuck me.” He whispered the words so soft, Teal almost hadn’t heard them.

  “What?” Her sharp tone a great indicator that Logan’s next words were going to piss her off. “Because if you knew about this and didn’t tell me . . .”

  Logan sighed heavily. “No, yes. Wait. Look,” he stuttered all over hi
mself, trying to line his words up right. “He told me something about some MC asking him to do shit back when I was locked up, but he’d thought all that shit was in the past now. You telling me those men are back?”

  “Yes. That is what I’m telling you, Logan. They are back.” The sound of motorcycles revving jolted her. The rain had lessened greatly and she could now see that she was surrounded by men on bikes. “Oh shit.”

  “What?” Logan’s voice came through the speakers.

  The man on the bike beside her motioned for her to pull over. Teal thought perhaps the man had lost his mind because she was not about to pull over. That was, until a gun came from his side and pointed toward her tire.

  Her breath came out in pants. “Oh fuck. They followed me.”

  Logan knew exactly who she’d been speaking about because he didn’t waste time by asking who. “Hang up and call the police. Do it right now,” he demanded.

  But Teal was already pulling over to the side of the road. There were just too many of them and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to maneuver her big ass SUV safely with a blown tire on the wet asphalt. “I’m pulling over.”

  “Fine, but call the fucking—” Teal didn’t hear Logan’s next words.

  A silent prayer passed her lips as the muzzle of a gun tapped against the driver’s side window. Logan’s voice echoed in her ears, his frustrated voice deepening as he bellowed, demanding to know what was going on.

  This was the second time in Teal’s life a gun had been aimed at her, but this time, Teal had the tools she needed to defend herself. The tapping came again, and she chanced a glance at the hulking male in a leather vest, standing outside of her window. She attempted to swallow the ball of fear forming in her throat, but failed.

  The tall, silver-haired male gave her a toothy grin and motioned for her to roll down her window. She gave a quick glance to her purse on the passenger side seat, where her gun lay tucked deep in its depths. Could she make it? Would reaching for her gun signal the biker and convince him to pull the trigger?