His Lady: The Wounded Souls

by Leah Sharelle

  I ran my hands through my scruffy hair and blew out a frustrated breath. “What the fuck more can I do, brother? She knows I haven’t been spending any time with other women, and I’m going to the doctor’s appointments—happily, I might add. I’m trying to make up for my fuck up. She just won’t let me in.” The confession came out before I could stop it. Normally, I wasn’t so forthcoming with this shit, but something had to give. Rainn was pregnant with my kids, and she had only let me touch her belly just that once at the hospital when she took that fall. The other day, I walked into the main room to find Darth massaging her feet for her. That was my fucking job, and that big prick had smirked at me like he was enjoying pissing me off. Fucking Darth.

  “Mannix, you’ve got to see this from Rainn’s point of view. You and she have always had what looked like to outsiders an open relationship. But it really wasn’t, was it?”

  Damn, he saw far too much.

  “It’s been just Rainn for me for months now. Even before she got pregnant. Sure, I attempted to get it on with Ingrid a time or two, but it never happened,” I admitted.

  “I think Rainn is upset you didn’t see the same with her. I get you freaked out and went back to what happened with Alannah, but, Mannix, Rainn is the total opposite from that bitch of an ex. You have to stop seeing her like that. It has been my experience chicks don’t like being compared to the other women in your life.”

  I was concentrating on the good shit Creed was saying that I nearly missed the hidden message in his words.

  “Everything okay, Apollo?” I asked, using his mission name. He pretended to hate it, but when Steel gave it to him years ago, his wife Lila Rose had laughed so hard she suffered from the hiccups for twenty minutes. That woman had been a laugher and had the cutest laugh. So had Creed once. Not so much since her death.

  “Fuck your brother for giving me that call sign,” Creed said with a grunt.

  His dark almost black eyes stared at me without really seeing me. Instead, Creed was lost somewhere in the past as he spoke.

  “I would give anything to go back to that day. I would say no to the bike ride, and I would take Lila Rose straight home, instead, and make love to her. If I had done that, my wife and child would be here with me today and not dead. Some of us can’t take it back, but if you are given a chance, then you better take that and fucking make it right, brother.”

  “Fuck, Creed. I’m sorry, brother.”

  Creed very rarely spoke of Lila Rose and never about the awful day. A feeling of utter uselessness came over me. Creed was my brother in arms, my mate, and I wanted to help him.

  “Creed, you know you can talk to any one of us, and we will understand,” I offered honestly, hoping beyond hope he would take the lifeline I was handing him, but I saw his eyes shut down any emotion he had shown before.

  “Everything is fine, brother. Go wake up your woman. Make her listen to you, but make sure you listen to her. She is hurt, Mannix, and scared.”

  It didn’t escape my attention that Creed hadn’t mentioned the word pregnant. I noticed he avoided the Wounded Souls’ ladies’ pregnant bellies. Even his close friendship with Mia had cooled slightly. He had gone from spending a lot of time with her to just brief visits at the compound. It also hadn’t escaped my attention he wasn’t around much lately. He wasn’t shirking his responsibilities, though. No way. He still ran the best custom bike shop in the state. Still helped with runs and plotted the routes, as was his job as the club’s road captain, but something had my brother’s attention. Something that was slowly bringing a small light back into his black eyes.

  “I gotta get going. I need to go to the bike shop and take care of some business, and then I’m on Shiloh duty for the rest of the day,” Creed said before giving me a chin lift and walking out of the kitchen.

  I could hear the little princess and her pup in the main room. If Shiloh was up, then it wouldn’t be long before she went looking in the bedrooms to wake up the late sleepers.

  I finished gathering everything up I needed for Rainn’s breakfast tray. Over the last few weeks, Rainn’s strange food requirements became one of my priorities. If she wanted it, I got it for her no matter how weird or disgusting I thought it was. This morning’s concoction being two apple pancakes with whipped cream and maple syrup. That wasn’t so strange except she also requested a waffle spread with mashed banana and melted chocolate sandwiched between the two pancakes. How she ate this stuff was beyond me. I asked her doctor at our last visit about Rainn’s high sugar diet, and it was the wrong thing to do. Of course, I knew it as soon as the question was out of my mouth. I expected her to hit me again or knee me in the balls. What I hadn’t expected was for my lady to burst into uncontrollable, snotty sobs. A dam had broken, and there was no stopping it. Her doctor just shook her head at me, and the look she gave me said, You stupid idiot. You really are a wanker, aren’t you? And, yeah, I was. It had taken me thirty minutes and a stop at a greasy food drive-through to make her stop crying.

  It wasn’t a mistake I was likely to make again. If this was what I had to endure, then so be it. Rainn was carrying my babies, and there was nothing I wanted more than my family. Rainn was mine, and it was just going to take me a little longer to get her to see things my way. I’d survived deployments, deserts, wars, and losing an eye, so I reckon I could survive anything Miss Rainn ‘Storm’ Marcus could throw at me.

  Chapter 18

  RAINN

  I could hear the morning routine sounds of the club’s residents going on from the warmth of my bed—the stomping of heavy, booted feet, the clattering of breakfast dishes, and the constant chatter of Shiloh. Even her pup was getting in on the action with her excited barks.

  Life moved on as normal, but somehow, I felt stuck in pause mode. I was stuck even, though the lives growing inside me were moving along and doing exactly as they should be. What was I going to do now? I couldn’t dance, not for a good while yet. Even after the babies were born, it wasn’t going to be possible. Standing on my feet for six or more hours at a time behind a bar didn’t appeal, and neither did working at the club’s shooting range and gun shop. That left Creed’s bike shop and Deck’s construction business. I supposed a desk job was better than nothing, and I had to do something.

  My savings from my dancing days were still in the bank untouched, and that was how I wanted it to stay. I would need that for when the babies came. Twin girls. Good Lord above. I needed to get two of just about everything. It was going to be an expensive shopping excursion.

  The other night, the girls and I sat down and made out a list of the things I would need. By the time we reached halfway through it, I was sweating. How was I going to afford all of it on my own? My savings was quite substantial. I danced well and was paid well for doing it. Most of my weekly wage and nightly tips went into the bank. I managed to live sparingly and knew where to look for the good bargains in clothing and make-up and still looked like I just stepped off the pages of a magazine. I had brains when it came to money, and that was certainly going to come in handy once the girls arrived.

  I wasn’t going to depend on Mannix for help. I knew that was cruel and completely unfair. In the last three weeks, his efforts to be forgiven were impressive and heart-warming. And I did believe he was sorry. I just couldn’t believe that from just one ultrasound, he knew he was the father. And if I were honest, it hurt me that he believed the ultrasound, but not me. My word couldn’t persuade him, but the fact that I was carrying twins did. It just didn’t make sense to me. My mum always said that I was stubborn to a fault, and maybe I was. I wanted to be the reason. His reason. Was that too much to ask?

  Mannix Steel was my reason. That’s for sure. It was for him. Every sexy sway of my hips was for him. Every new dance performance was for him. Mannix was my inspiration, the only audience I wanted. The only eyes I felt on my body when I was on stage and the only ones that mattered. I was so deeply and utterly in love with a man who couldn’t bring himself to trust a woman. But
me, he couldn’t trust me. I couldn’t describe the ache in my heart every time I thought of it. I was linked with him forever because of our daughters. That was the worst and best kind of punishment. The worst because one day, he was going to find someone to break through his wall of stubborn, and I was going to have to watch that. Watch him be with another woman, watch her be a mother figure to our kids. But it was also the best because I was never going to lose a piece of my beast. I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my cheeks and onto my pillow. I would blame the hormones, but in private, I wasn’t ashamed that I was just a big girlie-girl in love with a bad boy.

  “Knock, knock. Breakfast time, Lady,” Mannix called from just outside my bedroom door.

  Shit. If he saw me crying, he would ask questions. I played the hormone card so much in the last three weeks, he was either going to call me on my lies or worry and have me hospitalised. Hurriedly, I wiped my face and nose on my pillowcase and pushed myself up into a sitting position.

  My eyes fell to the tray Mannix placed on the bed. Orange juice with pineapple pieces floating in the glass, and a pancake-waffle sandwich, complete with whipped cream and melted chocolate. Hmmm, this man knew me so well, parts of me at least. My stomach rumbled at the feast before me as I also noticed the prenatal vitamin. Another wave of tears threatened at his sweetness. I made a mental note to ask my doctor about these bouts of crying jags I was experiencing. They were turning me from a perfectly good bad-arse bitch and into Charlotte. God help me.

  “Thank you, Mannix. It’s so warm in this bed that I really didn’t want to get up to go feed myself,” I mumbled around a mouthful of fluffy and perfectly made pancake. Hmmm… Beast definitely has a hidden talent in the kitchen. I could most certainly get used to this.

  “No need to get out of bed today, Lady. I have a few things to take care of at Body and Souls this morning, and then, when I get back, I figured we can go get started on getting things for the girls.” Mannix busied himself with straightening my blankets as he dropped that bombshell on me.

  Mannix Steel shopping? Had the world ended? Were there pink pigs flying around outside?

  I choked on my pancake. “Pardon?” I wheezed, reaching for the drink of juice to help the floury treat to go down.

  “Rainn, be careful. Chew your food properly. I said after I get back, we can go get started on that list you made out the other day.” He looked at me like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to suggest. Mannix had left his eye patch off this morning, which he didn’t often do. He had an ocular prosthesis or glass eye, and it matched his other one in colour perfectly, but he found it irritating to wear for long periods of time. Normally, he just went with the patch, which suited him and enhanced his sexy, rugged look.

  “Mannix, where am I going to put it all? I need to clean out the spare room at the house, and I really don’t think it’s going to be big enough for two cribs, a change table, and the plethora of other things the twins are going to need,” I said reasonably, but the thundercloud that crossed over Mannix’s sexy scruffy face told another story. Oh, boy. It seemed the Wounded Soul’s enforcer had come for a visit.

  “Fucking hell, Rainn. What did you think? That I was going to kick you out of here, ask you to move out with the twins? Fuck, Rainn,” he yelled. His hands dug through his already rumpled hair. No matter what he did with his hair, it always looked like that. His long, scruffy hair was his one finger salute to his time in the army. He had too much integrity to insult them verbally, so for him, this was the next best thing.

  My heart raced. I wasn’t scared of Mannix, never. Actually, I think I scared him a few times in the past with my temper, but Mannix was one guy who could rant and shout, and I never felt ill at ease. All of the guys of the Wounded Souls were like that. They controlled their tempers around the women, and not once did any of the women feel threatened.

  “What did you expect my reaction to be, Mannix? What am I supposed to think? That you want me to live here? That the girls and I live with you at the compound and play happy family?” Even as I asked, I was afraid of the answer.

  “Yes,” Mannix shouted as he whirled around, his eyes boring into me. “Yes, Rainn, that is exactly what I want. You and the babies here. With me. As a family.”

  “Why?’ I asked softly.

  “Why? Rainn—” Mannix dropped to his knees beside the bed. His hands reached out and grabbed hold of mine, the sticky syrup on my fingers not seeming to bother him. “I fucked up, Rainn. I get that, I do. Don’t think I haven’t kicked my own arse a thousand times in the last three weeks for it. And if you want to keep kicking it, that’s fine, too. But please, Lady.” He stopped and dropped his head to my growing belly. His shoulders shook, and I watched in fascination as he took a few deep breaths.

  Not able to help myself, I pulled one hand free and ran it through his soft hair, my sticky fingers suddenly forgotten.

  “Beast?”

  “God, I love it when you call me that.” He groaned as his head came up, and my breath caught in my throat. He looked raw and beaten. “Give me a chance, please, Rainn. Give me a chance to prove that I want this. Give me the chance to prove to you that I want you.”

  His plea hit where it was supposed to, but I had to steel myself. I couldn’t give in yet. Wanting and loving weren’t the same thing. Trusting was something else entirely. Mannix wanted me, always had, and that was something I never disputed. Did Mannix love me? I wasn’t sure, but I hoped he did. What I was sure of was Mannix didn’t trust me. Trust meant more to me than anything else. If he couldn’t trust me, then what did we have?

  “Mannix, what is going to happen if you get it into your head that these kids aren’t yours? Or what if it turns out this wasn’t what you wanted after all? I’m not going to put our kids through that, Beast. Wouldn’t you have done anything to prevent Ebony and James from being hurt?”

  “Jesus, Rainn, of course, I would have, but this is totally different. These babies are my biological kids. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you,” he said sternly.

  He sounded so sure of everything he was saying, but my gut was telling me to go slow. Mannix had spent years complaining about Alannah and her betrayal, vowing never to father any more children because he could never trust the mother. Yet here I sat, pregnant with his children. My head suddenly started to pound again.

  “Lady, I gotta get going. We will continue this discussion on the way to the baby store,” Mannix said. He leaned closer to me so his lips were inches from mine. “Just one little taste. I’m desperate for one taste,” he whispered just before his lips pressed to mine.

  So soft. Mannix had the softest lips. A moan bubbled up my throat, and the need to deepen the kiss burned through me. Without conscious thought, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled Mannix down.

  His growl of appreciation rippled against my mouth. His tongue demanded entry, and I gave it the green light. Our kiss could only be described as wild as our teeth clashed and our tongues invaded. This was the Rainn and Mannix of old, two bed buddies who knew each other inside and out sexually. It was glorious, spine-tingling until a hand crept up the side of my hip, and the tingles were suddenly replaced by shudders and not the good kind.

  My body was definitely not the same as it was the last time Mannix and I had sex. He loved my sexy curves, my slim waist, and my perfectly proportioned boobs. Now I was just blah. Curves had morphed together, my waist was MIA, and my boobs? I didn’t want to talk about those, and Mannix was not getting his hands on them, either. Pulling my mouth away, I shrank back into the bed.

  “You better get going,” I said. I pushed his hand away from my body, avoiding the coffee brown eye that saw everything.

  “We will also talk about what just happened, Lady.” The demand came out like a growl, then he was up and gone, leaving me unsatisfied and horny.

  Argh, of course, we will.

  ———

  “What are your plans now, Rainn?” Charlotte asked me.
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  After Mannix left for the strip club, and I demolished the rest of my pancake and waffle sandwich, I hefted myself out of bed and showered. I couldn’t find anything cute or sexy to fit my engorged body, so I gave up and raided Mannix’s drawers for a pair of sweats and one of his army tees. I decided to complete the sad ensemble with UGG boots to become the epitome of pathetic.

  “I dunno.” I had no idea. Mannix had thrown me with his demanding speech in the bedroom, but a full three-sixty in his thinking just didn’t seem plausible. Not to me, anyway.

  “I have an idea. Why don’t you brush your hair, and I don’t know, maybe change the tee and take off the UGGs.” Vegas giggled.

  I looked down at my clothes and sighed. There was a smear of caramel and a dollop of the whipped cream I had doused all over the caramel slice sitting on my chest. After my shower, I barely dried my long, ruby-red hair. Well, it wasn’t so much ruby now than a washed-out pink version of it. The books all said a pregnant woman shouldn’t use hair dyes. Luckily for me, I got my hair touched up before I took the test, and it turned pink—the stick not my hair.

  “It’s actually quite disturbing seeing you this way, Rainn. You are the put-together one here, and out of all of us, you are the one who should be rocking their pregnancy,” Charlotte said, shocking me.

  She did have a point. Normally, I was the guru for the women of the Souls to go to for help. I dropped my face into my hands with a frustrated snort. This was pathetic. I was pathetic. This just wasn’t me. I did not wallow in self-pity or gorge myself stupid with sweet treats. My body was my most important asset, or it was until Beast planted his super sperm in me. An idea started to form in my mind. Of course, my brain was now officially taken over by baby hormones, and like most decisions made in the past by one of the flock, it should have been left unsaid, but was it? Nope!

  “I need to dance,” I announced. And so the bad decision making continued.