“Something like that.”
The sound of laughter and chattering settles in my ears as I walk in and Zane hugs me, slapping me on the back. I squeeze the plush toy under my arm.
“How old is your daughter now?” I ask.
“It’s Daisy’s eighteenth birthday today.”
Ice fills my veins. “Fuck, Zane. I bought her a toy. I didn’t realise she was so big.”
“Daisy loves those rats from you. She keeps them all in her bedroom. No worries. She’ll be happy with another plush rat.”
Relief washes over me.
I’m not good with kids but surprisingly, my brothers’ kids have always been excited to be around me. I have no children on my own; I never wanted to. Or maybe I haven’t met the right woman who could make me want that whole shit called a family with two kids.
Another reason is that maybe my life is too shitty to even think about having kids. I’m an old broken mess.
Zane guides me along the corridor with Sive’s paintings interrupted by photo frames on the white walls. Then we enter the living room. My whole family has gathered there under two majestic crystal chandeliers casting rainbow on the walls. They rumble their greetings like a horde of old lions as I stand in the middle of the room and roam my eyes over them. Boulder and Blaze look like Santa Claus’s brothers. Axel still can play a villain in the horror movie. Gunner seems to be even longer than he was and Dimitri’s hair resembles salt and pepper mixed together.
The women are beautiful as always.
Rey is sitting in an antique armchair. She flashes me a smile, pale, ghost-like. Translucent like her fragile, unearthly beauty. If she’d been born in the Middle Ages, she could have been suspected of witchcraft. Sive looks at me like she’s a real valkyrie which contradicts her occupation; she’s our family lawyer. I’ve always wondered how Axel manages to keep her by his side. They’re like inferno clashing with God’s legion, like darkness and light.
Athena smirks at me like she’s a real goddess. I’ve always liked her curves. I don’t like her obsessions though.
Brianna smiles at me like a hot fairy tale princess as always. I wonder how many sarcastic comments I will hear from our family humanist tonight. Carrie’s hair burns with red like a real fire. Amanda and Maria are bustling around the guests as always.
The kids have grown. I can barely recognise them.
Jax slaps me on the back.
“Like a fucking circus?” Jax says.
“Sort of,” I say.
“Good to see you, man,” Jax says.
“Mike,” somebody squeaks behind me.
I recognise that thin annoying voice at once. It belongs to Daisy, The Squeaker or Daisy, The Rat.
I turn around and step back. My eyes fix on Daisy, my hands spread, palms facing the ceiling, my jaw dropping. I’m staring at Daisy. Except she’s not Daisy.
A piece of red fabric mimicking a dress barely covers her body instead of a pair of jeans and an oversized hoody she always wears. She has beautiful tits, hinted by the plunge neck, but fucking hell she shouldn’t have any tits. Something is also wrong with her lips. She shouldn’t have such full seductive lips.
I’m stunned.
“Mike,” Daisy squeaks and her grey eyes fill with joy.
She moves closer to me and kisses both my cheeks. Her smell hits me hard, engulfs me like a tantalising shawl. Vanilla and her own musk, sweetness and fierceness; the vibes of her scent make my skin prickle.
Her lips curl into a bright smile that pisses me off like never before.
Daisy has always been the most annoying kid in the family. The nosiest kid in the family.
“You bought me another rat,” she says with humour.
I hand the toy to her. “A plush rat for a real rat. Happy birthday, Daisy.”
Daisy tosses back her dark long hair and I stifle the urge to throw a blanket onto her. Or to twist her neck. Or to bend her over the table and drive my cock into her from behind.
I haven’t just thought about it.
“Thank you,” she says.
Our glances meet. Her eyes darken like a storm cloud similarly to Zane’s ones when he is pissed off. Fucking hell. I need a drink.
Zane hands me a can of beer and I settle myself into the leather couch between Boulder and Blaze. A perfect seat for such old gits as us.
It’s nice as always. There is a beautiful birthday cake, singing in four different languages, laughter and love. The food arrives on the table and we reminisce about old times. Then it stops being nice because my personal rat sits beside me and starts asking me questions.
“Where have you been, Mike?” Daisy twitters. “Four years. Where did you travel?”
“Here and there.”
“So where, exactly?”
“Peru, Thailand, Russia.”
“I’ve always wanted to visit Peru.” She sighs and pulls the edge of her dress to cover her perfect thighs.
I haven’t seen her thighs. She has no thighs. She can’t have nice thighs. She’s no woman, after all.
The women decide to go for a walk and I exhale with relief. The rat is not going to annoy me for an hour or two.
I want to get drunk, but the beer somehow tastes like urine and vodka makes me feel nauseous.
Zane and I move to the kitchen.
“You okay?” Zane asks.
I salute him, but the truth is I’m not okay. Something is wrong with me, but I can’t tell what exactly.
I should say my goodbyes and leave the house as soon as possible. Zane’s my best friend, my brother and his daughter is pissing me off to the point where I want to hurt her.
“Visit us more often,” Zane says.
“I hate your kids. No offence.” I huff. “How is Rey?”
“She’s fine for the majority of the time. Nights are sometimes difficult. She’ll wake up and scream and only Brianna can soothe her. Dimitri is kind of impatient with her. You know him how he is. Everything must be his way. But Rey and he are good now.”
“They’re old.”
“We’re old too.”
I chuckle. “Did you think about the place for our final rest?”
“Ma wants to build a tomb here. Like a creepy family tomb.”
“I don’t know yet whether I want company in my grave or not but the place is beautiful.”
“How is your divorce?” Zane changes the topic abruptly.
“Fine. I’m happy I don’t have to see that bitch ever again.”
I tried really hard to make our marriage work, but my ex wife was always unhappy. I didn’t communicate enough, I had too many secrets, I drank too much of alcohol. I wasn’t emotional enough, I wasn’t gentle enough. I wasn’t interesting enough. She hated travelling and I loved it. Fuck her.
“Let’s have a drink for your divorce then.” Zane slaps me on the back.
“I’m actually going to clear off, Zane.”
He nods at me. “Brianna will pack some food for you.”
“That’s a good idea.” I go to say my goodbyes to the boys.
Ten minutes later, Brianna hands me a plastic food container and I walk out of the house. The sky is grey. Delicate streaks of silver mist layer the ground as a chill creeps under my cut. I jump on my bike and start the engine then pull forward along the asphalt road. Farther and farther from the yearning such gatherings always bring to my heart.
I love them all.
I grew up in six foster families and I’d always craved to be a part of such a family as Zane’s.
A tiny form crosses the road in front of me, making me brake abruptly. My bike lies down on the side as I fling myself towards that person.
“Are you fucking mad?” I yell.
“I’m sorry,” Daisy shrieks.
“Go home. For fuck’s sake. I could have run you over.”
“I wanted to say my goodbye.”
“Goodbye. Now go back to the house.”
She shakes like a leaf in autumn, but doesn’t move.
&
nbsp; “For fuck’s sake. You are always so annoying, Daisy.”
“And you’re always so mean, Mike.”
I’m speechless. My hands spread as I step forward and she steps back. Then we stand in an awkward silence like two predators ready to rip one another’s throat at any moment as something thickens between us. It grows in strength, threatens to explode.
“Go. Home.” I roll my fingers into fists.
“Why don’t you want to stay for a while like all the others?” she hisses.
“Maybe I hate your never ending questions, huh? Jeez, Daisy, you’re even more fucked up than I remember.”
It’s not true. She’s not fucked up. She’s like a refreshing breeze, light and full of joy. Absolutely adorable.
“How can you even remember anything,” she says with anger. “You were either drunk or away.”
“That’s enough,” I say.
She cringes into herself at the harsh tone of my voice and my insides melt.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I step forward and put my hands on her arms, stroking them up and down. “Go back to the house. It’s very cold.”
She sniffles. “Stay, Mike. For a day or two. Please.”
“Why?”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, her palm cups the side of my face and I feel like a saint is touching me. It’s almost physically painful to me, but liberating at the same time.
“Don’t do this, Daisy.”
“Why?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I lean in and cover her mouth with mine. My whole world shatters. I die to be reborn at once. Everything changes forever.
I crush her lips with mine and wrap my arms around her trembling body. Our breaths are as one. Our bodies merge.
Our paths are crossing in the most unimaginable way as though a bright star has descended and is bathing in the endless gloomy ocean.
Daisy’s so beautifully soft to touch, delicate. So strangely mine. We kiss deeper, our tongues entangled, dancing. My hands run up her outer thighs and I touch her round ass, drawing her even closer to me.
No fucking way. She’s Zane’s daughter. Something stiffens inside me and I pull back as Daisy sways and raises her hands then freezes like a sculpture.
I jump on my bike.
“Stay, Mike. Please, stay.”
“No.”
“I’ve always loved you. Stay. I need you.”
“That’s your fucking problem not mine.”
I rev up the engine and shoot into the dark.
Gunner: Shadow Wolves MC
Book 2.5
Chapter One
Gunner
I’m really ugly. My body is really long. My arms are long; my legs are long and my cock is long. It’s really thick when I’m looking at a beautiful girl and I want to fuck her. But girls don’t want to talk to me even though I always try to be nice to them. So one day I decided not to ask them to go out with me anymore. Instead, I regularly visit Dash who rests in the graveyard behind the chapel. I talk to his stone angel. I tell him about Sive and Axel, Brianna and Zane, Athena and Jax. I think he would be as happy for them as I am.
Dash was my brother. The Cobras killed him so Axel led us to kill all the Cobras. They won’t kill anybody else.
Tonight, I’m telling Dash about Axel’s son, Hawk, who turned two yesterday. There was a nice party at Axel’s place. Everybody attended, Jax and his old lady, Zane and his old lady, Amanda, Boulder, Blaze and his Maria. I met Maria’s cousin, Carrie, who attended as well.
Carrie is a single mom of two boys. They are two and three.
Carrie is really short, shorter than Brianna. Petite they call such cute little things like her. She has the reddest hair I’ve ever seen. It’s red like a flame, curly and thick. Beautiful like a waterfall. I wish I could touch her hair, sink my face into it and smell it.
Carrie is going to stay at Blaze’s place for a while. Maria said that Carrie’s husband had beaten her and her boys so she had to escape from him. What a sick fuck. Fury bubbles, simmers inside me at the memory of Maria’s words and my hands itch to twist that scum’s neck. Women and children should be protected, respected and loved.
“So,” I say to the angel. “I’m going to help Carrie with the boys. She’s very tired, ya know, very fragile. She needs help.” I stare at the clouds overhead for a moment. I wish Carrie were my wife. I’d fuck her every night. I’d love her. “I have to go. See ya, Dash. I’ll be back soon. In two days maybe.”
I bow my head at the angel and turn around then cross the burial ground and aim for my bike parked by the metal fence.
The ride to Blaze’s house takes me ten minutes. I leave the bike parked along the pavement and go to the front door. Carrie opens it for me before I have a chance to knock. Her boys are crawling between her legs, almost making her fall down. She clutches the doorframe and flashes me a smile like she’s embarrassed.
“Hi!” she says in a sweet breathy voice.
“Hi!” I say and that’s all I can articulate.
Carrie’s beautiful hair is tied in a high ponytail. Her big eyes framed by thick eyebrows shine cobalt like the sea on one of the paintings in my small house that I bought three years ago.
“Come in,” she says and lifts her younger boy, setting him on her hip.
His name is Shay. The older boy’s name is Nikko.
“Blaze and Maria are at Boulder’s with their kids,” Carrie continues. “They should be back soon. Come in.”
I step into the house and remove my boots. My heart jumps up to my throat and my hands start to sweat.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Carrie asks as Shay pulls her hair and she shakes her head.
The strap of her vest lowers, exposing her cleavage. Her skin glows like porcelain.
“A coffee would be nice,” I say.
Carrie leads me to the living room decorated with raw wood and the photos of the club’s members and their families.
I drop into the wide leather armchair and Nikko stands in front of me. He stares at me with wide eyes, putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head.
“Are you a giant?” he asks.
“Nikko.” Carrie shakes her head and huffs. “It’s not nice to say such things to other people.”
“I am a giant,” I say.
Nikko giggles and Shay curls into Carrie’s embrace.
Coldness runs through my veins. If I scare the boys away, Carrie will hate me.
“I’m a very harmless giant,” I say, putting my elbows on my lap. “The kind of giant who likes playing with kids.”
Shay fixes his curious eyes on me as Carrie puts him on the Persian rug and goes to the kitchen.
The boys climb onto the armchair and dig their little fingers into my arms.
Carrie
I put the kettle on and hear my boys squeal with excitement.
I only met Gunner yesterday but I feel like I’ve known him since forever. He is tough. He works hard. His body is so long that I feel like a midget compared to him. But there is something gentle about him. His green eyes radiate with honesty. Good eyes one can tell, like those of an old friendly dog that’s guarded its beloved owner for a lifetime.
I like the unique shade of his hair. It’s brown with an ashen tinge.
I make us two coffees and carry the tray with the mugs to the living room, putting it on the oriental coffee table.
Gunner is sitting on the floor and playing with my boys. They’re showing him their toys, burbling and pulling his cut but he is so patient with them that my heart fills with pain.
My husband wasn’t patient with them. He wasn’t patient with me either.
I drop into the couch and watch my sons’ joy. Gunner turns his head and our glances meet. His face tenses and he averts his eyes so I scan my vest and jeans whether they are not dirty or something. Then I raise myself and look in the mirror hanging above the fireplace to check whether my face is okay.
Men usually gape at me, but Gunner doesn’t. He seems to avo
id me. It fills me with sadness. I don’t care about other men, but I’d want Gunner to be interested in me. He seems to be a decent man.
I want a decent man in my life, not for me but for my boys. They need a good father. My husband was handsome. He had a wonderful sense of humour. But unfortunately he had no control over his anger and jealousy. He was a really shitty father.
I got pregnant with Nikko when I was twenty-one. My controlling parents offered that they would adopt my baby. A really brilliant resolution one can tell. But I didn’t want my baby to become my younger brother so I moved out of their house to live with my boyfriend. I married him soon after. After a few months, I realised that he drank too much of alcohol and smoked too much of weed. He lost his job; I had no money for my Uni so I left it and found a job as a waitress. I thought I would change my husband so I got pregnant with Shay. My husband didn’t want to change. Instead, he hit my sons and me. So I started thinking like an adult at last and escaped to Maria.
I didn’t love my husband. I think the true reason for my shitty life decisions was that I wanted to escape from my controlling parents. They thought they had the right to decide about every aspect of my life. I rebelled against them and ended up with scum. A very typical scenario.
I didn’t talk to them for two years. Now, we are trying to rebuild our relationship on a new foundation. My sons need grandparents and my parents seem to be willing to change.
“Your coffee is cooling down,” I say to Gunner.
Gunner sits cross-legged at the coffee table as Nikko wraps his arms around his neck from behind.
“Nikko,” I say. “Gunner wants to drink his coffee.”
“That’s okay,” Gunner says.
He takes a sip of his coffee then grabs my boys, holding them under his arms and strides towards the kitchen. My sons squeal with excitement. I follow them to the garden. Gunner plants the boys on the grass then runs after them with his enormous muscular arms outspread, his socks covered in dirt, and the air fills with laughter, shouts, gasps and shrieks.
I wonder what it would feel like to have those long arms wrapped around me. It would feel safe like in a citadel.
I drop on the bench and watch my sons enjoying the evening with Gunner. A red flare burns on the horizon and the noise from the town fades as a fog creeps into the garden and a chill pricks my skin.
Brianna (Shadow Wolves MC Book 2) Page 16