"I took her to Bookjam," I supplied, still not able to put together what was going on there, what heaviness was in the air between Reese and Cash, and, by extension, me as well.
"Ree, sweetie, this is..." he said, leaning back, and grabbing Laz's arm, dragging him forward, "Lazarus. Laz, this is Reese. Laz is going to get you a drink so I can have just a couple words with Cy."
Then, before she could even fully agree to that, Cash was grabbing my shoulder painfully, and forcing me outside with him.
"The fuck is up your ass, Cash?" I asked as the door slammed.
"Do you have any fucking idea what you are doing?" he hissed, voice a mix of angry and worried, a combination you didn't often find the vice prez, a generally laid-back guy, having in his tone.
"She wanted to be in all the aspects of my life, man. Didn't think it'd be an issue bringing her around. Everyone else brings their girls around eventually.
"Jesus Christ," he growled, running a hand up the shaved side of his head. "I'm going to go ahead and assume you don't know her family. I mean, you don't know Gina, so you don't know the rest."
"I know she has aunts, a grandma, a sister, and -"
"And two brothers," he supplied, shaking his head, looking almost... resigned?
"Yeah."
"You haven't met them."
"No."
"Know their names?"
Shit. See this is where I was going to sound like a fucking asshole. I knew a woman for months, had been on a vacation with her, and didn't know the names of her family members?
"No."
He reached up, rubbing a hand across his mouth. "Alright. Guess this is my place then. Their names are Paine and Enzo."
"Okay..." I trailed off, feeling a tug of familiarity, but unable to place it.
"Not striking a chord?"
"Not particularly."
"So, you know Third Street?"
"Everyone knows Third Street."
"Yeah, well, Reese's brothers both took turns fucking running Third Street."
Jesus.
Christ.
No wonder she didn't tell me much about them.
If she had brothers that ran a fucking street gang, it wasn't exactly something you advertised. Especially an H-dealing, prostituting street gang.
But if her brothers had led one of the organizations around town...
"Think it's starting to sink in," Cash noticed with a nod as I reached up to run a hand down my beard. "Paine was only in his mid-twenties when he took over. And this whole goddamn town knew they weren't to put a finger on his sisters. For fuck's sake, we have all taken turns getting and keeping Kenzi out of terrible situations. And I know Reign, myself, Wolf, and Repo have all taken turns jumping Reese's car, changing tires, or any untold number of vehicle catastrophes she has had. I mean, we'd have stopped regardless. Woman alone on the side of the road at night and all. But Paine and Enzo would have strung us up and gutted us if they got word that we drove by."
Shit.
Okay.
I was getting the picture.
No wonder she was keeping her family from me.
Or maybe it was more like she was keeping me from her family.
"You said running," I observed, grasping at straws. "Past tense."
"Paine got out a while back. He runs the tattoo shop that half the guys go to," he told me, and then the name was starting to make more sense. I had heard it on several occasions when one of the guys asked if some new ink was done at Paine's or Hunter Mallick's place.
"And Enzo?"
"Enzo is pretty fresh out. He's working for Rhodes up in the city. You also got Tig to deal with too."
"Tig? From Sawyer's team?"
"He's who finally tied down Kenz," Cash supplied. "He's pretty protective of Reese as well."
Three.
I had three brother figures to impress.
See, I didn't have any experience with that.
I'd never dated anyone, so it never factored in.
And while I loved my sister and would torture and murder the shit out of anyone who hurt her, Wasp had never been the kind of woman to allow the protective-older-brother shit. She had very plainly informed us when she was of-age that who she dated - or who she hooked up with - was absolutely none of our business, and she would not tolerate us trying to intimidate any of them.
"This is why she hasn't talked much about them."
"Yeah," Cash agreed. "But it's time to have that talk. You know, before they find out on their own. Now, let's go save her from the rest of the guys who are probably swarming by now. Ree is too fucking nice to tell them to fuck off."
He wasn't wrong either.
When we stepped back in, she was standing with her back to the bar, clutching a bottle of water in her hand, her thumb desperately picking at the wrapper as she fake-smiled at something that Sugar said to her.
"Alright, back off," I said, moving in beside her, my arm going around her lower back, pulling her against my side.
"There had better be a good reason for that," she whisper-yelled up at me, eyes shooting daggers. Being surrounded by strangers - especially male strangers who wanted to talk to her - was Reese's personal version of hell.
I gave her a squeeze. "So your brothers used to run Third Street, huh?" I asked, trying for casual because I knew it was a heated topic for the both of us.
At the words, she jerked back like I had somehow struck her with them.
FIFTEEN
Reese
Shit.
Yes, this was one of those rare occasions where that kind of language was called for.
Shit.
Yep, it even deserved repeating.
See, I knew I would have to tell him eventually. Of course. Actually, it was in my plans after I met his people, especially his brother. Reeve had been absent from the swarm of men that had come up to me.
And they had swarmed.
Like bees to a blooming flower.
It was weird.
I was so used to being invisible that I guess I never really realized how much I truly depended on that.
Because I was wholly unprepared to have six men close in on me at once. To be fair, they all offered me kind smiles and introductions.
"Baby girl," the dark-haired, grey-eyed one I had met at She's Bean Around greeted me first. "We've met. I'm Sugar."
"Like 'how you get so fly,'" I agreed, though I still didn't have the slightest clue what that meant.
"I never did catch your name."
"Reese," I offered, giving him a smile that in no way reached my eyes.
"And, mami, we met too." That was Roderick, who had introduced himself almost as soon as I got out of my car, seeming to materialize out of nowhere. Ninja skills, that guy had. Plus, he was stupidly good-looking. He was the perfect face (and body) for some hot, steamy, latin love story.
"Roderick," I agreed with a nod, taking a breath, finding a small bit of comfort in at least knowing some peoples' names, as odd as that was.
"And, pet, I'm Virgin," another of the men said, drawing my attention both because his voice was a deep, hypnotic sound, but also because the word 'virgin' caught my attention. I turned to see another of Cy's biker friends from that night in the coffeeshop - a tall, solid, dark-skinned, dark-eyed man with absolutely perfect chiseled bone structure.
Yep, I decided right away, he could be a leading man as well.
"Nice to meet you," I forced out even though my mouth felt dry as sandpaper at having to be the absolute focus of their attention.
"Honey," I heard from behind me, half-turning to find the man Cash had sicced on me, Lazarus, reaching across the bar, holding out a much-needed bottle of water. "Breathe," he added, giving me an encouraging smile as I twisted off the top, and took a small sip.
I took in a deep breath as I noticed someone else watching me. "Hey love," he said as soon as my eyes fell on him.
And, well, yeah, he would totally make a good leading man too. What was it with these bikers? H
ow were they all so good-looking in completely different ways?
This man had a voice that was meant to melt panties. It was all rocks and glass and deep and, ugh, yeah, it was good. The looks matched too. He was foreign-looking, though I didn't know enough about that kind of thing to place it. He had long, dark hair that he kept up by the crown of his head, and a beard to match. He was tall. And while he was strong, he was not quite as large as some of his associates. Actually, he had a body similar to Cy's - built, but thin.
"Um... hi," I said, feeling oddly intimidated by him for no reason other than there was something in his eyes that just seemed that way to me.
"You're the one who brought that fucking dog to heel," another voice called, making me turn to see a man whose face was in various stages of messed up. Scratch marks here; black eye there.
"Pagan!" a woman yelled from a few feet away, giving me a sympathetic smile and eye roll that seemed to scream men, right?
From there, it was several questions that all seemed to have the same 'really? Cy?' tone to them, for which I was amused, but also offended.
Luckily, Cyrus popped back in just a couple minutes later.
Well, not so luckily.
Because now he knew that I had been keeping secrets from him. True, they weren't earth-shattering secrets, just things I didn't feel the need to bring up when we were just friends, and certainly didn't want to drudge up when we were having such a good time in the city.
I was going to get there eventually, I swear.
But I had, at least, planned a way to sort of ease him into it.
Cash, apparently, did not have such a plan.
I turned my head to where he walked inside, small-eyeing him because I felt comfortable enough with him to do so. He gave me a half-smile and head-shake back that seemed to imply that I should have done the job myself.
He was right too, darn it.
I just... I knew it would have been better coming from me.
Now Cy was looking at me with curiosity, but also a small bit of hurt in his eyes.
"Cy, I..."
"I know that piece of shit outside when I see it," Reign's voice called out of nowhere.
I mean, my car truly was a bit of a, ah, deathtrap. But, jeez, they weren't sparing my feelings at all about it.
"Hey Reign," I said as he came into view, giving me a half-smile and brow raise until he realized that Cy's arm was around me.
Then his face went deathly serious.
"Ree," he said, giving me a chin-jerk, then boring holes into Cyrus.
"I had no idea until Cash told me two minutes ago," Cyrus announced before Reign could even say what we both knew he was going to say.
"No idea about what?" Sugar asked, looking around, obviously not liking being out of the loop.
"Reese here," Reign said, giving me a look that said he didn't know what game I was playing, but that he didn't approve. And that look coming from a man like Reign, let me tell you, it was pee-your-pants scary. "Is the littlest sister to both of the previous two leaders of the Third Street gang. And my money is on them having no fucking idea that she is dating a Henchmen. Don't think they'd approve," he added, looking at me. "Right, babe?"
Honestly, I had no idea.
Maybe that was why I was kind of stalling in telling them about Cyrus. They were protective, sure, maybe even homicidally over-protective, but they also wanted me to be happy. If Cyrus made me happy, wasn't that enough reason for them to accept him? Or was a guy in his profession simply a 'hell no' to them? Hypocritical, sure, but I could maybe see that as well. Also, if they knew who Cyrus was - and they usually kept pretty good tabs on the players in town - then they likely knew his reputation with women. That did not bode well for me either.
I mean, I'm a grown woman. I can date who I want to date. Even if they didn't approve. But that didn't mean that their disapproval wouldn't suck. In all my years, I was pretty sure I had never done anything that they didn't approve of. The weight of that would weigh heavily on me, and I didn't want that to affect my relationship with Cyrus.
Kenzi, when I told her, hadn't done the protective older-sister thing at first, just listened, just said I was desperately in need of a lay, claimed I might need to get down there and clear out the cobwebs first. You know, teasing stuff. But when she had been getting ready to leave, she had stopped, turned, and told me to be careful, not to get in too deep too fast.
When I texted her to tell her about the trip to New York, and asked her to feed Knightley, she had said she would feed the "big-eyed freak" and then added a minute later "#getyourfreakon."
But Kenzi had been in the business of making mistakes with men. She learned what she wanted and needed through trial and error. She understood that I needed that freedom as well.
Brothers, well, they didn't exactly think that way, did they?
"You would have to ask them," I shot back, my discomfort making me sound a bit bolder than I actually felt.
Reign was the kind of man who respected a comeback like that, though, so he nodded his chin at me before turning to Cy. "Words later," he said, then moved away.
I swear, that order sent a shiver through my body and it wasn't even meant for me. Feeling it, Cy gave me a squeeze, then started moving toward the side, shouldering gravel-voiced man whose name I hadn't caught out of the way. "I'm gonna go show Ree my room. When we come back out, it'd be nice if you guys didn't corner her like a bunch of starving dogs faced with a steak."
With that, I was being led through the clubhouse that was, surprisingly, pretty well kept and clean, though it was definitely all-man. We walked past a door that led into a kitchen, and moved down a hall of doors. One, it seemed, for each member of the club. What would they do when their numbers got larger again?
We went almost all the way to the end of the hall before Cyrus reached to open a door, ushering me inside as he flicked on the lights.
And I finally, finally got to see what Cy's place looked like. Because Cyrus, I found out while we small-talked over dinner in the city, didn't keep an apartment. He had no reason to. He needed to be at the compound most of the time, so what was the point of moving away?
That being said, I always felt like someone's personal space said a lot about them. Kenzi's room had always been stylish and feminine. Paine's place had always been manly, but super comfortable. Enzo's apartments were always very streamlined and almost obsessively neat. My mom's house was full of our old school pictures, and art created by Kenzi and Paine who had skills at that which I never possessed. But she did have a big picture of the intricate Pemberley scene I had colored out of an adult coloring book when I was eighteen. My place had a lot of books.
Cyrus, well, it was surprising, but also completely right at the same time.
The walls were a deep, but somehow light, soothing blue color. The bed was maybe a queen, with a plain wooden headboard, and a striped blue and white comforter. Above his bed were three shelves, lined with various pictures of his family when they were all younger, smiling faces of him, his sister, and brother, as well as a father who, unlike the current Henchmen, screamed "biker" with his long, stringy hair, leather pants, and chain necklace. At the foot of his bed was a small, understated couch where his guitar was placed, a notebook sitting open on the other cushion, his neat, small handwriting scribbled all over the lined pages. Across from that against the wall near the door was a dresser with a TV on top and an 8-in-1 gray turntable where he had a pile of vinyl, CDs, and two separate iPods.
Family. Music. And soothing blue.
Somehow it perfectly described him.
At the end of the room was a door that led to a small bathroom with a white sink cabinet in front of a large mirror, a shower stall, and the expected toilet.
Nowhere were there any windows.
It had actually never occurred to me before, no matter how many times I had passed The Henchmen compound in my life, that there was not a single window in the place. Except, of course, in more recent times, that gia
nt glass room thing overlooking not only the grounds, but half the town as well.
Okay, so maybe I had thought a time or two about how that was the absolutely ideal reading spot. All you needed was an air pot for your coffee, a little LED camping lantern, and a good book. You could read under the stars. It was very romantic.
"Ree," Cy's voice called.
"Yeah?" I asked, a bit distracted by my own thoughts.
"Why didn't you tell me about your brothers?"
Oh, right.
I turned, shaking my head. "I was going to tell you. It just... there was no reason to when we were just friends, and then, I don't know, everything happened so fast. And I didn't want to ruin a perfect weekend talking about how they would likely not approve of this and... what?" I asked as a smile pulled at his lips.
"Perfect weekend, huh?"
"Oh please," I snorted. "You know that was the ultimate getaway for me."
"Yeah," he agreed, all easy-going boyish charm again. "I kinda did."
"I don't remember if I ever thanked you," I realized suddenly.
"You did," he said, making my belly unclench. "Last night. Then again this morning... maybe again in a couple minutes..."
"That's not what I meant!" I objected with a laugh.
"No?" he asked, pretending to be genuinely confused as he pulled the front of my body against his, his hands moving down my back to sink into my butt. "Are you sure?"
Oh, man.
Trying to think straight when he was looking at me like that was going to be an, ah, challenge to say the least.
But we needed to talk.
At least it felt like things were still unsettled.
"Cy," I said, trying for reasonable, putting my hand on his chest to keep him from ducking his head to claim my lips like I was sure he was about to. "Don't you want to know more about..."
"What you sound like with my cock buried in your wet pussy while you try not to be loud because there are ten other people hanging around the compound right now?" he supplied for me. "Yes, I really would like to know more about that."
Then, hand be damned, he sealed his lips to mine, moving us backward toward the bed.
Cyrus (The Henchmen MC Book 9) Page 17