Snatch: Cerberus MC Book 5

by Marie James

  I huff loud enough to make Ivy’s tiny face crinkle up around her eyes, the beginning of a cry escapes her lips.

  “Enough,” Kincaid says reaching for his daughter. I know I’m watching the making of two soon to be spoiled rotten little girls.

  “No children for me,” I answer standing from the small rocking chair to make my excuses to leave.

  Itchy doesn’t have ovaries.

  The thought makes me chuckle.

  Reaching out, I clasp Kincaid’s hand. “Let us know if you need anything,” I tell him before leaning over and giving Em a swift kiss on the forehead. “You sure do make pretty babies.”

  She smiles but doesn’t take her eyes from Gigi, who is sleeping peacefully in her arms.

  ***

  I can’t keep the frown from my face when I exit Em’s room and find Kid the only person left in the waiting room. I was granted a reprieve back at the clubhouse because we had to get to the hospital, but being alone with him is going to give him the opportunity to speak freely. I’m dreading the interaction and was fully ready to call for an Uber.

  “Where’s Khloe?” I ask hoping she’s in the restroom or down at the gift shop.

  “I took her home. She stayed up all night studying, and needed a nap before studying more later this evening,” he explains.

  “She’s going to wear herself out,” I mumble, for the first time hating her diligence with her education.

  “I said the exact same thing,” he says as we make our way out to the SUV to head back home. “She just tells me it’s only temporary, and she’ll sleep after she graduates.”

  “She’s not really leaving much time for anything else. It has to be exhausting,” I add as I climb into the SUV, passenger side of course. Kid always drives unless Kincaid, Dominic, or Shadow insist on taking the wheel.

  The smile on his face when he buckles his seat belt makes it very clear that she’s making time for him, and that’s all that matters.

  On the drive home, I find myself hoping he brings up what he saw in my room this morning, yet at the same time, I pray he never mentions it again. I’m torn by the entire thing, so twisted up deep inside I don’t even know where I stand anymore. I can admit it’s my own cowardice that’s keeping me from sharing with my closest friends the news of my relationship with Itchy. Once we open that door, it can never be closed, and that terrifies me more than facing an armed insurgent when all I have are my hands to defend myself.

  How fucked up is it that society controls so many people by their preconceived notions and horrid opinions? Does it make me less of a man, less of a human because I’m worried about what everyone will think, how they would judge me by merely expressing my feelings for someone?

  He hasn’t said a word about it, not one single hint by the time we make it back to the clubhouse. I climb out of the SUV glad and disheartened at the same time.

  I bid everyone good night without slowing my pace through the common areas and head straight to my room. It’s been one long ass fucking day, starting with the interrupted argument with Itchy this morning and ending with the birth of two amazing little girls.

  Even exhausted, I smile when I open my bedroom door to find Itchy sitting on the edge of my bed. It doesn’t last but a second when I see the bend of his neck as he doesn’t even look up at me, opting instead to keep his eyes trained on his wringing hands.

  “Hey honey, I’m home,” I jest, trying to lighten his mood. It falls flat, and my chest constricts.

  I close the door, lock it for good measure, and kick off my boots. He still doesn’t look up at me, and my mind races with worry that someone has discovered us.

  “I can’t do this anymore,” he mutters, still refusing to look me in the eye.

  “Excuse me?” He started this shit. He sucked my cock first, and now he just wants it to be over?

  No take backs, motherfucker.

  “Look at me,” I demand.

  He waivers for an endless moment, as if he looks me in the eye he won’t be able to speak his mind. I’ll take all the help I can get because him ending this is the last thing I want. The warring in my head, in my heart, that I didn’t even know I was fighting for so long is quiet when I’m with him.

  “Goddamn it, Rob. Now!”

  His eyes finally jerk to mine at the use of his first name.

  Sadness, pain, and even worse, resolve fill his eyes. The devastated look on his face cracks open my heart, and I almost spill my truths as they pour from the wound, but he interrupts me.

  “I said,” his voice is nearly a sneer, a way to mask his own heartbreak. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Does your dick agree?” If he wants to be an asshole, I can give back in spades.

  “My dick isn’t the problem,” he argues, the harshness increasing enough in his voice to make me almost back down. Almost.

  “You tired of sucking dick? Tired of getting your cock sucked?”

  He licks his lips, preparing to rip into me if the glint in his eye is any indication.

  “Is it because I haven’t let you fuck me yet?” In a bid of showmanship, I reach for my belt buckle, pulling the leather apart with determination. “We can remedy that shit right now.”

  His eyes, unsure for the first time, glance down at my cock, still concealed behind my navy boxer briefs.

  “This isn’t about the sex, Jaxon.” The hiss of my name, so sweet on his lips the few times he’s moaned it since we started this, is bursting with venom. I hate it immediately. “What is this?”

  “This?” I ask confused because he hasn’t stopped staring at me, his fingers gripping and clenching each other.

  “Between us. What is it?” He drops his eyes again, and I know he’s terrified of my answer, expecting me to say the opposite of what he needs me to say.

  Fuck, I’m frightened of what I’ll say.

  “What’s got you so upset?” I’m frozen like a statue in the middle of the room, and it’s not lost on him that I didn’t answer his question.

  “I’m tired of hiding. I want to tell them.”

  Them being the entire collection of our friends, the entire MC, the only men we trust. The repercussions, if it isn’t well received, have cataclysmic fallout.

  Sincerity fills his eyes when he looks back up at me. “We don’t have to hide.”

  “Itchy,” I cajole. “I’m not ready.”

  “At the rate you’re going, you’ll never be ready. It’s tell them, or this ends. So, I’ll ask again, what is this between us? A good time? Love? You tell me because if it’s up to me, I’m all in, with you… with us.”

  I shake my head on instinct, rejecting this entire conversation without a second thought. The idea of moving forward with what he wants terrifies me as much as losing him. It’s lose-lose for me either way I decide. If I choose him, I run the risk of losing everyone else. If I don’t choose him, I may have given up the most powerful thing I’ve ever had the luck to find.

  It’s quality over quantity, and I’m the asshole who can’t legit decide.

  “Please don’t do this,” I beg as I zip my jeans back up and lace the leather of my belt back through the loops.

  “Do you love me?” Even behind his thick beard, I can see his jaw clench in frustration.

  Put on the spot, I rub my hands over the stubble of my short Mohawk. “Dumbest question ever, man.”

  Once again I’m stalling. Fuck, where is the redo button on this fucking day? I should’ve headed to the garage instead of being excited to come in here and crawl into his bed.

  “You’ve never said it,” he counters. “I mean, unless I was reading too much into it, I could feel it in your hands when they reach for me in the middle of the night. I could taste it on your lips, but you’ve never said the words. The look on your face right now tells me no, but the vivid memories make me doubt what’s before my eyes right now.”

  “You haven’t said it either,” I argue.

  The tired corner of his right eye twitches, his lips
unmoving for eternity before he chooses to respond. “I loved you for years as a friend, a brother in arms.”

  This is safe territory. The straining muscles in my entire body relax infinitesimally.

  “I love you now as a lover, boyfriend or whatever we label what this is between us. I felt that way before I licked Darby’s pussy off of your cock.” My eyes widen. “It’s the only thing that gave me the courage to take that fucking step.”

  Oh, fuck.

  My pulse is pounding in my ears, leaving me reading his lips for the last part as his voice is drowned out by the thunder of my heart.

  “I love you,” he repeats as if needing to drive the three words home.

  He stands from the edge of the bed, closing some of the distance between us, but I stop him with an upturned hand.

  “But this is an ultimatum?” He frowns. “I just want to be clear. You love me, but you’re willing to walk away from that unless I tell the guys.”

  The sparkle that shone in his eyes when he was making his declaration turns briefly to remorse but morphs quickly when his spine straightens with determination. He’s legit willing to walk away.

  “I’m not ready,” I mutter, my lips speaking my truth before my brain can even analyze the situation as a whole.

  He nods, solemn but not surprised. His boots eat up the distance between us until we’re only a breath apart.

  “I understand,” he says before his lips brush mine in the faintest of touches.

  My hands grip his shirt, needing to pull him to my chest, to feel the warmth of his body, the forgiveness of his love. I feel the harsh rush of his breath against my cheek as he battles with his decision.

  Standing firm, he pulls my fingers free of the bunched fabric and walks away.

  My heart crumbles at the finality of his lock clicking into place.

  Chapter 31

  Itchy

  “You need to get laid,” Snake grumbles when I fail to laugh at his ridiculous attempt at another joke.

  “Don’t worry about my cock, asshole,” I mutter finishing my beer. “You probably have enough shit crawling around on yours for a lifetime of concern.”

  Ace’s laugh bounces around the garage but stops immediately when Snake gives him a go-to-hell look.

  “I’ll have you know I got my shit checked last week, and I’m clean as a fucking whistle.” I’d laugh if he didn’t look so relieved at his own declaration.

  “For now,” I add. “Next month could be a whole other story.”

  I’m full of shit. I know he always wraps up, a Godsend considering his propensity for questionable women.

  “You have crabs,” he hisses, unable to let the insult die without an attempt at having the last word.

  “Had, fuckface.” I’ll never live down the stupid fucking name I was given in boot camp, an impossibility considering it followed me out of the Marines. Sometimes I hate spending my days with so many guys from my first unit in the Corps. “Once, and it was years ago.”

  “Semantics,” he mutters seeming to finally give up on the argument.

  “Fact,” I counter. He can tell by the look on my face that I’m not going to give up on this.

  He rolls his eyes like a teenage girl and starts talking to Ace.

  I know I’m being a jerk. I have been since I walked out of Snatch’s room a week ago, and everyone around me seems to be taking the brunt of my attitude.

  You need to get laid.

  Fucking someone is the last thing on my mind at the moment. Even my go-to stress reliever is tainted by Snatch’s rejection. I know any effort wasted on some woman would leave me unsated. My sexual encounters over the last year and a half have been soul deep, passionate, and all involved the man I love. Anything after that is a depletion of energy I can’t be bothered with.

  “I’m going in,” I say tossing my empty bottle in the trash before walking to the door.

  “Taking my advice, I see.” Snake smiles at me, so sure of himself. “I suggest Gypsy. She’s been extra fucking randy this week.”

  “To bed, idiot.”

  Ace and Snake reminiscing over the week’s exploits turns from obnoxious chatter to silence as I make my way to the front door. Thank fuck they pull their weight on missions because if they didn’t, their antics would surely get them booted from the MC.

  I do my best to ignore Gypsy and Snapper who’re making out on the couch without a man in sight.

  I’m grumbling about double standards as I make my way to the hall entrance when out of the corner of my eye I see Snapper jump up from the couch and start toward me.

  “Not tonight, Snap.”

  “Oh, believe me, Itchy you’re going to want to talk to me.” She leans in closer, whispering to Gypsy who is gawking at us like she believes Snapper is propositioning me. “Unless you want everyone to know about the romps you and your boy toy have been having for the last year and a half.”

  I almost laugh because if anyone would consider Snatch a boy toy in our scenario, they’d be stupid. Her words sober me, even as the endless supply of beer I’d consumed all day flows through my veins.

  I grip her by her forearm, probably harder than I’d ever grabbed a woman before and drag her until we’re locked inside of my room.

  I don’t think Snatch is even at the clubhouse. He’s probably fucking my dick out his mind as we speak, but it doesn’t keep my eyes from darting to his door. I swing her around to face me, and she smirks having caught the direction of my gaze. She knows. I can tell that by the indignant look in her eyes.

  “The fuck are you talking about?” I’m steady enough on my feet to at least force her hand, make her play her cards before admitting to shit.

  “This may explain things a little better,” she says reaching into the back pocket of her jeans and pulling free her cell phone.

  I wait impatiently as she unlocks the screen and opens up an app. Satisfied with what she’s found on the screen she hands it to me. I frown at her but look down at the phone.

  My breath hitches, heart skipping several beats when I press play.

  “Where did you get this?” I ask but never pull my eyes from the screen.

  “I took it myself.” Her voice has an air of joy to it that makes my blood boil. “No one else knows about it.”

  I glare at the screen, only realizing after several long seconds that I haven’t heard any audio.

  “For now,” she threatens just as my finger finds the volume control and I turn up the sound.

  I ignore her, too focused on the video to handle both things at the same time.

  I watch, both in horror at her catching such a private moment, but morosely happy to see Snatch and me together.

  It isn’t until I hear the argument that happened what seems like a lifetime ago registers that everything clicks in my brain. Her barely veiled threat, the evidence she wields, the ability to implode the very thing Snatch was against.

  “Her emotional state is not my responsibility.” Snatch’s indifference still annoys the fuck out of me even after all of this time.

  I hold my breath as I watch myself close the distance between us.

  “Do you really think pissing her off while she’s holding your secret in her hands is the smartest thing?”

  “Your secret, too,” he mutters.

  I watch as his eyes dart in the direction of the camera. How he missed Snapper standing at the end of the hall holding a goddamned cell phone is beyond me.

  “Would it be so bad?” I hear myself ask.

  Fuck you Apple for being able to pick up every sound in a private conversation.

  His laugh echoes around my room as if he’s standing in here with us. Even the sinister sound from that day warms my blood. “Bad? Would it be bad to be in some fucked up, labeled, relationship with a club girl?”

  “She’s pretty awesome. I know you enjoy fucking her.”

  “I fuck her because that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t think giving it a try with her is such
a bad thing.”

  “You can’t be serious. She fucks everyone in the clubhouse, Itchy.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter. Even watching this now I can see how much of a jerk he was.

  “Really? When was the last time you fucked someone other than us? Other than the women we’ve tagged together?”

  “I doubled with Darby and Snapper a while back, but only because I thought Snap was getting suspicious.” I hear myself explain.

  “That suspicion is what led me to try to get this video,” she cuts in. I sneer at her, but she knows she’s got me by the balls so it barely even registers on her face.

  “I hate to state the obvious man, but there’s no such thing as love or being in a relationship when the woman who’s asking for it is fucking anyone she can get between her legs. You can’t turn a club girl into a housewife, Itchy. There’s no sense in even trying.”

  “I think it was that part that made Darby leave,” she laments.

  My eyes pull from her damning evidence, burning holes into her. “You fucking showed her this?”

  “She’s not going to tell anyone,” she insists.

  “I’m not worried about her telling anyone, Snapper. How fucked are you to hurt someone like that?”

  “Seriously? I’m not the one who fucking said it.” She shakes off my chastisement with the ease of a sociopath and continues. “She needed to know what you guys thought of her. She left the next day.”

  “You cold-hearted, evil bitch,” I hiss.

  “No, no, no,” she says twitching her finger in my face. “Keep watching it gets better.”

  “The only person I’ve been inside of outside of these two rooms is when I was buried deep in you in that shower.”

  I nearly drop the phone at Snatch’s confession, responding much the same way I did the day this video was recorded.

  “That’s the golden egg right there,” she all but sing songs.

  The video cuts off after a few more heated words between us. I clench the phone in my hand but gather myself enough to delete the mother fucker before handing it back to her. I don’t bust it against the wall because the noise would draw unwanted attention.

  Her cackle makes my skin crawl. “You think I don’t have it backed up on the cloud? I’m not a fucking idiot.”