Hopeful Whispers: (Sacred Sinners MC - Texas Chapter #2)

by Bink Cummings

  When Ryker still doesn’t budge, I slap his unforgiving pec to garner his attention. He’s too busy trying to grind a hole through my leggings. “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Yep. I just chose not to listen.”

  What a shithead.

  “Rykerrrr,” I drone, delivering another pec slap. “Stop. Please.”

  Grumbling under his breath, Ryker nods once with an adorable frown, then turns around. “You may see yourself out, Megan. Please don’t do this shit again.”

  “I won’t. I won’t. I promise.” She stumbles to her feet. Ryker grips her elbow to keep her steady. At least he’s decent enough to do that.

  “See you in two weeks,” he calls to her back as she fast walks to the door.

  Doc raises a parting hand. “Yes. Two weeks. Have a nice day, you two.”

  “Bye,” I return.

  “Later,” Ryker adds.

  Once she’s out of earshot, I point at Ryker like an insolent child and bang my dangling heels on the side of the exam table. “The step. Please. I can’t get down without it, or I might fall.” Counterbalancing weight when you’re pregnant isn’t always successful. I’ve had my fair share of almost accidents.

  Grinning wickedly, Ryker hooks an arm under my legs as the other supports my back. With no effort at all he helps me safely to the floor. I pretend to make a fuss by slapping his chest, when, on the inside, I’m kind of flattered, and slightly turned on. Not from the lift. From the sinister things he was trying to do to my little man in a boat.

  Taking charge, I waddle to the doorway and pause when I don’t hear him follow. “Ya coming?” I ask, peeking over my shoulder to find my ex readjusting his bulge as he shamelessly ogles my ass. Because I can’t help myself, I shake it a little and he groans, palming that stunning piece of meat.

  “Stop it, Kat. Unless you want me to bend you over right there and take you from behind,” he warns unconvincingly.

  The pussycat loves that idea. While I, well, love it, too, it can’t happen. Not sure why at this moment. The line between right and wrong tends to blur in his presence. Doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun, though.

  “Stop what?” I play coy and continue working my booty.

  There’s not a lot of things I’m great at in this world, but workin’ dat ass is my specialty. The girls and I don’t have dance competitions in our pajamas for nothing. How do you think Scarlett learned to twerk? Not my finest mothering moment. Yet, fun, nonetheless.

  “What the fuck did I just say, woman? Stop. You don’t want me puttin’ chicks in their place. You don’t want me to rub up on that pussy. If you expect me to respect this mile-long list of shit you don’t want, then ya gotta give a man a break and stop lookin’ so fuckin’ sexy all the damn time. You’re givin’ me blue balls,” Ryker pleads. It’s endearing, cheek pinch-worthy, and makes the kitty cat purr for some of Daddy’s cream. Hot diggity damn. I need a Ryker reprieve. My brain’s on the verge of turning to wanton mush.

  Heeding the man’s request to save both ourselves from a potentially foolish no pants situation, I haul ass, turtle style, out of the room toward the exit. Waving to the receptionist, I yank open a huge front door and see myself outside. Waiting for my driver on the porch, I admire the well-maintained foliage, and that’s when I see the tall, muscular man standing on the opposite side of the road staring straight at me. The guy’s not just any man. He’s wearing a motorcycle vest similar to Ryker’s, yet not from the same club. Panicking, I spin right around to run back inside, not realizing Ryker’s stepping over the threshold when I do. Unsure of what the hell’s about to go down, I wrap my arms around his middle and drive him back into the building.

  “Whoa. Hey. What’s goin’ on?” Ryker peels me off him, and I frantically kick the door shut behind me. Which should give us minimum protection if the stalker unloads a clip.

  “There’s a big man outside,” I blurt, hands shaking as a heady mix of adrenaline is dumped into my system. I knew this was the calm before the storm. It was just a matter of time.

  “What?!” Ryker growls, going for the door like some fool with a hero complex.

  I grab his arm to stop him. “Don’t.”

  Ryker halts, gripping the knob so tight his knuckles turn white. “Let go and let me handle this, Kat. I should’ve anticipated this would happen.”

  This is why I need a gun. For backup. I hate the idea of him going out there alone.

  Knowing I need to trust him, I release Ryker’s arm, still worried sick about what may happen. “You better not die, or I’ll be really pissed.”

  Chuckling fondly, Ryker snatches my hand and draws me toward him. An arm wraps around my shoulders, and he drops a peck to my upturned forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can’t die yet ‘cause I still gotta put a ring on that finger.”

  Wait … what?

  Shocked to my marrow, my thoughts whirl on a turnstile of complex emotions as another kiss is given before Ryker goes to handle business, taking my lassoed heart with him. This isn’t good. Not at all. First, his declaration of love, the move, the cabin, then the quality time spent together, flirting, family time, and now this… What am I going to do? These feelings are growing stronger by the day. That’s not a good sign.

  Ryker

  Sittin’ on the couch inside the cabin with Rosie beside me, Kat takes her favorite spot—the chair. An hour ago, when I went to scope out the fucker who scared the hell outta my old lady, he was gone. To be safe, I cased the area and swept the truck for anythin’ out of the ordinary before I brought Kat home for her protection. Now I’ve got Rosie here with me so Katrina can tell us what this dead man walkin’ looks like. The club’s got some huntin’ to do.

  Poised, hands clasped in her lap, Kat begins. “He was tall. Maybe as tall as you.” She lifts her chin in my direction. “Long dark hair that curled at his jaw. Not sure what color his eyes were. But I can say for sure he was either very tan or biracial. Medium build. Wore what all bikers wear. And he had a lot of tattoos. I don’t know what they’re of, but he had one on his cheek, and his neck was covered. Sorry. That’s all I can remember.”

  “That’s great, Kat. Thank you,” Rosie says, leg bouncing. She’s pissed. I can tell. It might be subtle, but I know Rosie takes her jobs seriously, and she was home when this went down. If she wasn’t, it’s a good chance the rival piece of shit woulda been caught, tortured, then killed after we beat as much info outta him as we could. Unfortunately, as much as I wanna laze around and forget about our epic screw up, I’ve gotta call Big first.

  Pushing off my knees to stand, I walk by Kat’s chair and drop a kiss on the top of her head. “I gotta make a call, babe. You good?”

  She tilts her face up, dazzling eyes on mine. “I’m fine. Go do what you gotta do. Rosie and I need to start dinner anyhow.”

  Trailing a knuckle down her cheek next to the scar that’s forming, I soak up her beauty a beat longer. “I’m just gonna step outside. Don’t worry. I ain’t leavin’.”

  Kat’s lips part in disbelief. “You’re staying for dinner?”

  Offerin’ my lady a flirty smirk, I nod. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “But you always miss it.”

  “Not tonight, I’m not. We’re eatin’ as family. I need it.”

  “O-oh okay.” Kat exhales in a rush.

  Fuck. I dunno how I ever got so lucky.

  “Be back in a minute,” I reassure, then glance at Rosie to double check she’s got things covered here. By her slow blink and chin lift, I know she does. I return the lift before exiting the cabin via the backdoor.

  Straddlin’ my bike parked next to the wall, I extract my cell and make the dreaded call.

  Big Dick answers after the third ring. “Tell me you ain’t callin’ to ask for another favor.”

  Smartass.

  I snicker, unamused. “Someone was outside the doc’s office today. They’ve infiltrated Red Fort somehow, or they sent a scout. It’s only a matter of time before shit goes down.”<
br />
  “You’re sure?”

  “No, Big. I’m lyin’. Of course, I’m sure. My old lady saw him.”

  “And he wasn’t one of ours?”

  “He wasn’t,” I confirm.

  There’s no doubt that I believe Kat saw what she saw. My fearless woman tried to protect me by drivin’ me back into Dr. Shipley’s instead of gunnin’ the wussy little cunt down. Who the hell comes to town, shows his face to one of their marks, then vanishes before he can finish the job? If he wanted Kat dead, he could’ve shot her on the spot, and nobody, not even me, could’ve stopped him. Fuck. That can’t happen again. She can’t leave the cabin. No more exposure. This is the safest place for her and the kids. The mere thought of somethin’ happenin’ to any of them has my insides twisted all up. This war has gotta end sooner rather than later. Blood will be spilled, and I’ll be damned if it’s hers.

  Big replies, “None of Vanessa’s texts were linked to a doctor’s office. Unless—”

  “They were sent last night or this morning. I told her before I left last night that I was gonna be busy today. She could’ve put two and two together,” I finish for him.

  “You know what you gotta do.”

  “I know,” I clip, hating the idea so fuckin’ much my chest physically hurts. I rub it to ease the ache. It does jack shit.

  “Good. Send me updates in the mornin’,” Big commands and cuts the call.

  Smart choice. We’ve been at each other’s throats all week. Let’s just say Big Dick and I don’t see eye to eye on how to handle family. My loyalties lie in different circles than his does. Not that I don’t see the bigger picture here. I do. The difference is, I don’t give a damn how this affects the club. I give a damn how this is gonna blow back on Katrina, Roxie, Scarlett, and my unborn daughter. Not even my pops matters at this point. If I had to hold a gun to Kade and Katrina’s heads and only one could live, I’d pick my little Tiger each and every time. The nice thing about that is Kade would expect the same. He’d tell me to end his life to save hers. So would Pops and Ghost. That’s why I gotta do what I gotta do. She ain’t gonna like it. Hell. I’m not gonna like it. But when it comes to her safety, there’s not a goddamn thing I wouldn’t do. I’ve been protectin’ Kat since the moment I laid eyes on her. Sure, I slipped up, ‘cause if I was really doin’ my job, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with her and put three babies in her belly. Nevertheless, not a single day goes by that I regret any of it, aside from breakin’ her heart and missin’ out on my kids’ lives. If that was the price to pay so this wouldn’t have happened sooner, then so be it. You can’t change the past. There’s no use in dwelling on it. Right now, I’m gonna forget about what tomorrow brings and spend my final moments with family, where I belong.

  Kat

  Resting my shoulder on the doorjamb of the girls’ bedroom, I wait my turn to say goodnight. Grandpa, Papa, and Kade have already gotten their turn. Now it’s Ryker’s, who integrated seamlessly into our family evening. Tonight, Rosie and I made meatloaf, whipped potatoes, and corn. For dessert, Dad brought two cheesecakes—one turtle, the other plain vanilla bean. I had a healthy slice of both because baby number three demanded it get in her belly. She’s a greedy one, what can I say?

  Placing a final goodnight kiss on Scarlett’s forehead, Ryker crawls across the floor to Roxie, who snuggles down in her bed as he tucks the covers under her chin. Their faces get close and hushed words are exchanged. I’ve noticed a significant change in Rox since we moved here. She’s grown fond of Ryker in a way Scarlett hasn’t, because she’s too busy climbing up Uncle Kade’s ass. Wanna guess what color nail polish he’s rockin’ today? Lime green with pink glitter. Guess it’s a good thing she hasn’t convinced him to do his fingernails, too. Except now Rosie has gotten in on the nail painting sessions per Kade’s insistence. Which leaves three identical sets of toes this week since Scarlett wouldn’t dare be left out.

  Another kiss is given before Ryker pushes to his feet and strides my way, coming toe to toe with me. “I’ll meet ya in the bedroom when you’re done.”

  “The bedroom?” I squeak quietly enough so the girls can’t hear. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not after the doctor’s office flirtation.

  Winking, Ryker chucks my chin and slips past me, clothes brushing clothes. “Yes. It’s not what you think,” he whispers beside my ear, hot breath tingling my skin. Then he’s gone, his receding footsteps sending an unwanted thrill down my spine. What does this man have up his sleeve? If today’s any indication, he’s up to no good.

  Shoving all thoughts of Ryker to the wayside, I commence our nighttime ritual. First, I peck the girls’ cheeks, bear hug them until they groan, rub our noses together in Eskimo kisses, say our I love yous, then turn the lamps off, and the book lights on. This is the time of the day my kids read the most—like mother like daughter. There’s just something about nighttime that makes the fantasy world crisper and easier to plunge into. Perhaps it’s the quiet or the stars in the sky. I dunno, but it’s always been that way for me. Not to say it hasn’t gotten me in trouble a few times. Six a.m. binge reads happen a few times a month. Which leads to dragging ass the remainder of the day. Pretty sure we’ve all been there at least once in our lives.

  “Mom,” Rox calls as I pad my tired feet to the door.

  Turning around to give her my undivided attention, I ask, “Yes, sweetie?”

  “Thank you for inviting Ryker to dinner.”

  “Oh, honey. He’s always welcome to have dinner with us,” I reassure, hating she thinks otherwise. I’d never kick him out of his own place unless he did something to warrant it. Then I’d unleash the crazy, albeit justified, bitch.

  “Okay. Well, thanks anyhow. It was nice to see him.”

  “Yes it was,” I agree

  Rox grins. “He really likes your meatloaf.”

  He always has.

  “So do I,” Scarlett interjects, primly laying her book on her kitty printed belly. She has a small cat obsession, so most of her pajamas have kittens on them. If I wasn’t allergic, I’d have gotten her one ages ago regardless of the fact I’m not a feline lover.

  “We know that, Scar-lett. You got it all over your shirt,” Roxie snaps, clearly not appreciating her sister’s unsolicited dialogue.

  “I was just sayin’,” Scarlett returns equally sassy.

  “I didn’t ask you,” Rox argues.

  “Well, I didn’t ask you either.”

  “Girrrls,” I interject in my stern mom voice. They instantly quit bickering.

  Boom. Hammer engaged. Oh, the joys of motherhood.

  “Sorry,” they reply in unison.

  I wave them off. It’s no big deal. Kids will be kids. “Back to what you said, Rox, before you two decided to fight. Yes, Ryker seemed to like the meatloaf. When he comes back to the cabin each night after you’re in bed, I make sure he has leftovers.”

  “He eats the same food as us each day?” Scarlett’s excited.

  I smile at her enthusiasm, it’s impossible not to. “Yep.”

  “That’s cool,” she adds.

  “Sure is. Now get to reading, my little book dragons. I’ll see you in the morning.” Exiting their bedroom, I shut the door and slowly make my way to meet Ryker. Each step grows heavier and heavier until I reach the entrance, heart ready to pound its way out of my chest. Swallowing thickly, I perch my hand on the knob and shove the door all the way open. Ryker’s nowhere to be seen. The soothing sound of running water draws me into the space. Inside the bathroom, Ryker whistles a happy tune.

  “I know you’re out there, Kat. Come on; don’t be a scaredy cat,” he summons.

  Determined not to let my nerves get the best of me, I push my shoulders back, head held high, and stroll to the bathroom to prove a point. Coolly, I enter the space, only to stop short, stifling a gasp. What the hell? There’s at least ten white pillar candles lit around the tub. Their hypnotic flames flicker in the dim light. An air of unwanted romance encompasses the atmosphere, caus
ing my skin to prickle and thighs to clench. The water’s purple and smells of vanilla and … I inhale deeply to pinpoint that familiar scent—jasmine. The sweet kind; not medicinal. There’s soft rock music playing in the background that I couldn’t register over Ryker’s prior whistling.

  Wandering to the tub, I run my fingers through the hot, colored water. “This is nice. Did you do this for yourself?” I play dumb, not wanting to assume, because you know what they say about assuming—don’t do it.

  Kneeling beside the bath, Ryker tosses flower petals into the water, one by one. “It’s a peace offering of sorts. You’ve always loved baths. So I’d hoped you’d use this bathtub one day just like this. I know you don’t want anything more from me, Tiger. But I want somethin’ from you.” He looks up at me expectantly from the floor, his face the picture of vulnerability.

  Wiping my wet hand on my pants, I cant my head to the side, trying to figure this man out. “What is it you want?”

  “I want you to have our daughter at Dr. Shipley’s, so I can help you through the birth. I dunno how long you’re gonna stay in Texas after the threat has been neutralized. But I want you to promise you’ll stay ‘til our daughter’s born. Call me selfish, but I wanna see her come into this world just like I did with Roxie and Scarlett. After that, if the threat’s gone, you can do whatever ya want, and I won’t try to stop you. Hell. I’ll do you one better, I’ll help move ya back to Indiana.”

  “All you want is my guarantee that I won’t leave before she’s born?” I clarify.

  Ryker dips his head, eyelids closing in a silent prayer. “Yes.”

  Little does he know I wasn’t going to cut and run until summer. I decided that on my own this week. The thought of uprooting the girls mid school year for a second time isn’t fair to them. They shouldn’t be punished. Now that I’ve experienced Red Fort firsthand, I’ve come to realize this is an agreeable place to live. Plus, the girls seem to like school a lot. And it’s not like I have much to get back to. My mom, if that’s what you’d call her, knows where I am and doesn’t seem to give two flying fucks. That’s how she operates. Manless, and she’s grandma of the year, always around, wanting to spend time with the kids—with me. Now that she has a new beau, she’s too busy to stop by or care about anything but herself—typical. It’s not changed since I was a child. Only now that I’m an adult, I can read the warning signs. Like I’ve mentioned before, she’s a changed woman—to a degree. Nonetheless, when it comes to the D, it wins over family. Always has. Always will. Wanna know how I know? Since we’ve been here, I’ve initiated a single text conversation that lasted all of five minutes. She’s yet to initiate one herself in any capacity. Old habits die hard. This is why I was raised by my father until his fabricated demise because she couldn’t be bothered to raise the fruit of her loins.