by C. M. Marin
Everyone laughs as I shake my head, my own grin impossible to hold back now.
“It’s yours, bro. Always has been,” Nate adds, and this time there’s only seriousness in his voice.
On a nod, I eye my new cut and drift into memories that are now easier to think about. It’s the same cut my granddad and dad wore in their time, and as I look at it, it’s like they’re still here in some way.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit. “Just… Thank you. Thanks,” I repeat, because there’s nothing else to say.
Alex presses herself against my side, her arms folding around my waist in a tight embrace. No doubt that my girl is even more emotional than I am right now.
“No need for thanks,” Nate retorts. “We all agreed that it’s the way it has to be.”
“Now let’s go celebrate some more,” Cam decides while stepping closer to me and kissing my cheek.
“And eat the cake,” Ben adds, slapping a hand on my back to congratulate me.
I smile when I catch Camryn rolling her eyes at him. Every time I see her looking so happy, my dad―our dad―comes to my mind. I know he’d approve of seeing me back to my old self. Seeing us all this way tonight. All three of them would. And I’m not referring to me getting the President cut―though they’d be more than proud about it. But I know that my dad, Isaac and Billy would approve of how protecting our family is our number one priority and how our brotherhood is as strong as it was back when they were still around.
Chapter 21
Alexia
“I wish we could have taken your bike,” I tell Jayce as we approach his house.
My focus is outside the car, though. Nothing seems to have changed around here. It’s like time stood still while I was gone. The large yard surrounding Jayce’s white, modern two-story house is still lush green, and the narrow road we’re driving up still doesn’t lead to any other house than his. I wouldn’t call his place secluded, because the landscape is wide open all around it and the houses of distant neighbors can be seen, but it’s so quiet that there’s no way anyone could feel anything but peaceful. I’ve always loved it here.
There was a time when I practically lived here. It was back when Jayce had just bought the house, and it was only for a few months after I turned eighteen, before I started college, but that time was the best I’ve ever had. And we were just as happy here after I moved to Dallas and only came back to spend the weekends. We would sometimes stay at the club, so I could spend some time with Liam and everyone else as well, but from the first night I slept over at his house and woke up next to him the following morning, I saw a future here. I hadn’t even started with my four years of studies, but it didn’t matter to me. I’d come back, and we’d be together every day. He was my future, I just knew it.
“I’ve missed having you on the back of my bike, too,” he says, pulling me out of memories of a time I’ve missed, and his admission holds a tinge of guilt.
After I was able to let go of my bitterness toward him, it became clear to me that if I had been mad at him for what he did, he was just as mad at himself. And I think that he still is. The other day, Camryn asked me if I thought I could ever forgive Jayce for hurting me. And even though her question surprised me at first, I’m glad she talked to me. It forced me to think about it, and eventually, I let go of my anger and bitterness. I let go of the past and forgave him. But Jayce didn’t forgive himself. Guilt still gnaws at him, and the problem is, however hard I’d try, letting go of that guilt isn’t something I can do for him. There are no words I could say that would change the way he feels. He’s the only one who can find a way to forgive himself for the decisions he’s made.
Stirring that guilt in him right now wasn’t my intention, so I clasp his free hand in mine and say, “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”
“I know you didn’t, babe,” he assures me, lifting my hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on it. “I’ll take you for a long ride the moment the Spiders are dealt with. Just you, me and the road,” he promises as he lets go of my hand to open the large garage door.
“I can’t wait,” I reply honestly.
He drives inside and closes the door behind us immediately. As soon as I climb out of the car, I’m met with the familiar scent of oil and grease. This is where Jayce works on his bikes when he’s home.
He walks around the car until he’s joined me, and my hand back in his, he guides me up the stairs leading to the kitchen. His nervousness is betrayed by how tight he’s clutching my hand. It’s as though he doesn’t want to ever have to let it go.
“Are you okay?” I ask him once we’re in the kitchen.
He turns around and his lips immediately brush my forehead in a light kiss. “I’ve been here a couple of times in the last week, but before that, I hadn’t been back for months,” he confesses.
When he tugs me to him, I’m overwhelmed by the vulnerability springing from his embrace. He seems overly nervous, which I don’t understand since he was perfectly fine during the drive here. Well, he was quiet then, too, now that I think about it. Not knowing what to say, I just hold on to him and let him drop small kisses on my hair as I take in every detail in the room.
Just like everything outside, this room hasn’t changed a bit. Unlike the rest of the house that’s filled with state-of-the-art modern furniture, the kitchen is a combination of modern and rustic styles. I don’t know why I had expected Jayce to have renovated the space. Maybe because I’m the one who decorated it, from floor to ceiling. I started by painting the dark wooden cupboards and large table in an ivory shade to give the room more luminosity, then I picked up black, modern appliances, and I finally added a vintage touch with colorful metal plaques hung on the walls and matching storage boxes placed on a couple of shelves. It warms my heart to be back here and see everything looking just the same, but the moment my eyes roam over the kitchen counter, my heart skips a beat.
“Where’s my mixer?”
I blurt out the question through a whisper. If he tells me he threw it away, I won’t be able to hold back my tears. He knew how much I loved it. It might sound silly, but I really did. The mixer was a gift from him, actually. He bought it for my seventeenth birthday, and I brought it here when we got together and started to spend most of our time here. I used to prepare pancakes, cookies or waffles almost every weekend morning. It became a kind of ritual.
My voice must have conveyed my hurt despite my efforts not to show it, because he suddenly draws away from me and stares into my eyes as he speaks. “It’s at Nate’s. I stayed here for only a few weeks before choosing to stay at the club, but it hurt too much to see it.” He pauses for a long moment, looking like he’s weighing his next words. “We’ll get it back once this mess with the Spiders is over and we can move here.”
Frowning at first, my eyes widen quickly. “What do you… We? Jayce, I―”
“Moving here together is what was supposed to happen after you graduated,” he interrupts. “I know we haven’t talked about it since I screwed everything up, but I still want you here. I don’t want to drop you off at your apartment every night, then come back home without you. This is your home, Alex. I bought this place such a short time before we got together that I never lived here alone, really. And I don’t want to. I want you here.”
He’s right, we haven’t talked about it in a very long time. And I haven’t thought about it in the past few weeks. Not because I wouldn’t want to move in with him, but because the prospect of a future with him fizzled out when he cut ties with me, and I didn’t dare get my hopes high when we got back together. I think that I didn’t want to let myself think about what I had dreamed of for so long. But hearing those words from him has tears swelling in my eyes.
“I do still feel home here,” I admit. “I always did.”
“That’s just one more thing I’m sorry for. I’m sorry I took that away from you. But it’s time you come back.”
Closing my eyes as I lean into him, I rest my hea
d against his chest. “I’d love that,” I say softly, careful not to let my emotions take over me.
“I’m sorry for―”
“I know you’re sorry, Jayce,” I cut him off. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”
“I just want you to know that I would go back in time if I could.”
“I already know that. But changing the past isn’t something either of us can do. So, how about we focus on the present and the future from now on? And we could start with you showing me what we came here to see.”
He said he wanted to show me something, which is why we’re here.
I lift my head to see him looking at me with deep affection that’s mixed with a trace of gratitude.
“Deal,” he says.
After giving my lips a couple of sweet kisses, he leads me out of the kitchen and up the stairs until we’ve reached the first floor.
“Is it your bedroom you wanted to show me?” Suspiciously, I narrow my eyes on him. “You remember that I already know what it looks like?”
A resounding squeal bursting out of my mouth echoes in the empty hallway when he spins me around to trap me between his body and the wall.
“I remember just fine, smartass. And you can definitely count on being pinned to my bed real soon,” he promises me as his hands run up my legs, his fingers sinking into the flesh of my thighs, my hips and my waist until they reach my breasts.
Even through my jeans and loose blouse, his touch burns my skin, instantly making me crave more. God, I will never get enough of this man. One touch from him and I’m gone. I exhale a moan when he squeezes my breasts and rocks his hips against me, triggering this untamable need that only he has ever been able to trigger in me.
“But like you said, only after you’ve seen what I brought you here to see.”
And just like that, he’s gone with a step back, denying me his body and hands as though he didn’t just make me crave him with his touch. The sudden loss feels like an icy-cold shower.
After gaping at him only briefly, I seethe and pout at the same time. “You’re just… Evil.”
He chuckles proudly as he walks away, silently letting me know that I have to follow him. I do, but I’m still frowning at him when he stops in front of one of the guestrooms and turns back to me. “Ready?” he smiles at the look on my face, obviously still proud of himself for torturing me.
“Yeah, but do not touch me again unless you’re ready to deliver,” I mutter.
Still grinning, he shakes his head as he opens the door, and I follow him into the room.
My frown stays firmly in place after I cross the threshold, but it’s now one of confusion. It’s like I’ve stepped into my apartment even though I obviously know we haven’t left his house.
“Oh my… It’s… How?”
“I asked Liam to let me into your apartment. He helped me do this last week while you were at work. It was in case I needed more arguments to convince you to move in with me.”
Once my astonishment ebbs and I unfreeze, I whirl around and wrap my arms around his neck. Then I climb up his body to wrap my legs around his waist.
“I can’t believe you did this. It looks exactly the same.”
What used to be a guestroom now looks like the exact replica of the yoga room I made for myself at my place. The mat is the exact same shade of beige―though it definitely appears to be bigger―the walls are the exact same shade of blue, and there is one mirrored wall as well as a treadmill set in front of the window.
“Thank you,” I say softly into his ear. “But you didn’t have to buy another treadmill. Mine is brand-new.”
“It’s yours,” he says, then shrugs when I pull away to meet his eyes. “I mean, the one that was at your apartment. I wasn’t taking no for an answer anyway. I would have found a way to convince you to move here, no matter how long I had to try. But who’s touching who now?” he quirks an eyebrow.
I let a grin take place on my face as I move my hips in a rolling motion, pressing my crotch against his purposefully.
“Maybe we could christen my brand-new mat?” I offer.
He frowns, although it’s through his lust-filled gaze. “Are you serious, or are you going to turn me on then turn me down just to get back at me?”
Laughing, I admit, “That would be sort of fun if I wouldn’t torture myself in the process.” I shoot him a sexy smile and go on, “Maybe I just want your hands on me. And your lips on my nipples. Or maybe I want your fingers inside my panties. Maybe I want to feel them sliding inside me,” I suggest, my mouth inches from his as he groans at my words. “Then maybe I want you to finger fuck me until your hand is drenched. Or maybe I want you to take out that hard cock I can already feel against my pussy, and maybe I want you to slam it into me until―”
“Okay, now you better brace yourself,” he cuts me off, growling his warning as he makes his way to the mat and places me on it. Then he’s pinning me down, his body heavy on me and ready to dominate mine. His lips taste mine roughly, just as roughly as his hands knead my breasts, and I grind myself against him, moaning as my pussy clenches with need.
Our shortened breaths are the only sounds in the room, and when his phone buzzes in his pocket, it’s like nothing’s happening. We both ignore it as he keeps devouring my mouth and I keep seeking any kind of friction I can with my body. But when the buzzing resumes not even twenty seconds later, followed by the ringing of my own phone stuck in my pocket, Jayce curses.
“That must be Liam worrying.”
Through my harsh panting, I meant to reassure him, but unfortunately, it was a vain effort. His wonderful hands and lips neglect me already, and he sits beside me on the mat as he takes his phone out of his jeans.
“Need to be sure, baby,” he says, his tone apologetic. “Yeah, it’s Liam,” he confirms my suspicion while calling him back.
I keep my I told you so for my myself, not bothering to check out my own phone.
“Yeah, all good. Why?” Jayce says quickly, letting me know that Liam must have answered on the first ring and skipped the greetings.
Shivers run down my spine when Jayce stands up, his expression taking a serious, hard edge at the same time. Whatever Liam told him isn’t good.
“Okay.”
That’s all he adds before hanging up.
I stand up as well. “Is someone hurt?”
“No, babe. But we need to get back to the club, I’m sorry. Blane found something. It doesn’t sound good, but Liam didn’t explain. We can’t talk on the phone, just in case.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Don’t leave my side,” he commands, engulfing my hand with his.
Something is clearly going on, and it doesn’t sound good at all. But when I close the door of my yoga room, taking one last look at it, I can’t help but enjoy the happiness that swarms inside me. This life with Jayce is all I ever wanted, and for the very first time in a long time, I’m confident that our bright future is just there, right at my fingertips.
* * *
When Jayce and I walk back into the club, there are two things I notice. Liam’s relief as his eyes land on me unharmed, and everyone else’s somber features. Well, somber and pissed features. Nate looks downright murderous, though there’s something else that’s also painted on his face. He seems… upset. Maybe even defeated. More than concerned, my gaze immediately searches around the room for Camryn, and I find her standing not too far from Nate. Like I said, she’s standing, so she obviously hasn’t been hurt, but she’s very pale, her unfocused gaze lost in some sort of haunted daze.
“What’s going on?” Jayce asks whoever wants to answer.
“Remember my friend Lana?” Blane asks him as an answer.
“Yeah,” he retorts.
The knot of worry keeps growing in my stomach because the simple fact that Ben doesn’t find it appropriate to make a joke about Blane fucking said female friend lets me know that whatever this is about is serious.
“For personal shit, she’s b
een back at the Spiders’ strip-club to dance over the past month. An hour ago, she sent me a video. Have a look,” he tells him as he sets his phone onto the bar in front of Jayce and me.
Even though us girls are mostly kept out of club business, Cam, Lilly and Fiona are all here and visibly aware of what’s happening, so I decide I can look at the video myself as well. If the guys wanted to keep this from us, they’d have locked themselves into the meeting room.
Music blasts from the phone as soon as the video starts. The image jiggles a little, making me believe that Lana is moving while filming this. Maybe she has a camera hidden inside the pendant of a necklace―but that theory might only come from the too many thrillers I’ve watched. I’m definitely no expert in undercover missions.
A stripper is on stage, dancing suggestively around a pole to the beat of the music. She has a well-practiced smile on her lips, her breasts are bare and slightly bouncing around, and the red lace of what must be a g-string barely covering her most intimate parts. But she’s not who seems to have caught Blane’s friend’s attention. After doing something to the camera that has the image moving wildly for a short couple of seconds, it zooms in on a spot at the opposite side of the stage, where a man is sitting alone in a secluded booth. His features seem oddly familiar even though I couldn’t be more certain about the fact that I’ve never seen such a ridiculous mustache. Maybe if his eyes weren’t concealed by his baseball cap, I’d be able to try guessing who it is. According to everyone’s silent, tense state around me, they all know the answer.
Then the guy raises his head as he brings his glass to his lips, and the air is knocked out of my lungs for just a split second as Blane pauses the video.
“Fucking hell.”
Jayce is quicker than I am at forming words, but that’s all he can say before Blane speaks.
“Lana did a facial recognition just in case it turned out useful for her. Someone who disguises is always suspicious. Anyway, she called me straightaway once she found out his name and his ties with the Spiders.”