by Jax Hart
“Dev? DEV! DEV! Don’t you dare fall asleep. You have hypothermia, babe. Hold on. I’ll get you home and take care of you, love.”
My hands clutch his soaked shirt. “How can you see?”
“I know these roads, like I know every curve of your body. We’ll be home in no time.”
“Home? That word with you sounds so good.”
“Yeah,” he answers gruffly placing a brawny hand on my naked thigh. “Christ, Dev. No underwear?”
“I was in the shower when he broke in.”
“That motherfucker,” Rog’s hands clench the wheel, “did he touch you, sugar?”
“No. I was able to get away and barricade myself in the bedroom. I climbed out the window and went across the roof to the other side and was able to get down to the porch.”
His eyes flit over to me, “Goddamn, you were made for me, woman.” His eyes fill with heat and pride, my fingers laced in his; despite almost being killed—today feels like a new beginning for us both.
The truck sticks and slides, bumps, and swerves but somehow, we make it down a long drive through the woods to a clearing where a log cabin sits next to a pond. Trees have fallen all around us but none on the house.
Rog parks under a portico and before my frozen hands can even reach for the door handle he’s there lifting me in his arms and carrying me up the stairs inside.
We’re soaking wet and freezing, the adrenaline that coursed through our blood still there, but fading.
He strips his soggy clothes off and reaches for me. Taking me by the hand, he kneels in front of a large hearth and makes a fire. “Take your shirt off, Dev. We both need to raise our body temps.”
“I can’t. My arms don’t seem to work.” I tried to lift them, but they feel heavy and weak.
He curses, takes my shirt off, wrapping a plaid blanket around me. “Sit by the fire. I’m gonna hook up the generator and brew some coffee. I’ll be right back.”
He kisses me hard and firm, walks over to a small bar and pours two brandies into low ball glasses. “Sip this. It’ll warm your blood.”
I nod my head taking the stiff drink, eyes staring into the flames; I know I’m a different woman than I was two hours ago. I’m in the club now. I witnessed things that can’t be talked about. I want to know what will happen now, but afraid to ask.
Rog comes back wearing sweat pants and a parka. “Just a few more minutes, baby. I have a generator that will power the whole house I just need to flip the transfer switch.
My eyelids droop, hand slips, I almost drop the glass, but I force myself to jerk my head back and drink. I can’t fall asleep.
Rog’s cell rings on the mantel where he left it. Without even thinking I answer.
“Dev?”
“Yeah, Rog is hooking up the generator. You okay Mac?”
“I’m fine. I was worried as hell about you, girl.”
“I-I’m okay. Is he d-dead?”
“Yes. Dev… I need you to listen to me. You were never home. We fixed your apartment, covered your tracks. You hear me?”
“Y-yes.”
“Good. Gregory has friends. You can’t be anywhere near this.”
“Did you bury him in the woods?”
“Fuck no,” he snorts, “this isn’t TV sweetheart. We called it in… it’s self-defense. He just started shooting up our truck when we went to check on the rental property.”
“The cops bought that?”
“Of course, they did. We run this town, remember?”
Rog opens the door behind me bringing wind and rain inside with him.
“Here, it’s Mac.”
He takes the phone from my hand at the same time the lights come on and the generator’s engines churn like a locomotive.
Shivering violently, I sip my drink. “Come,” he holds a hand out. I take it as he links our hands together, phone to his ear as he talks to Mac in low tones until he’s satisfied all loose ends are tied.
He leads me to the back of his house where in a four-season sunroom sits a large hot tub. He presses a few buttons and lifts the top. Steam comes from the frothy water. He strips, takes the blanket from me, lifting me in his arms, “It’s gonna burn at first. But then your body will warm. When it stops burning it’ll be okay to sleep. I’ll hold you.”
I nod my head trusting him to take care of me. He steps up and places a foot in the swirling water hissing at the contact, but he powers through until both feet are in the tub, “I’m gonna lower you slowly babe. It’s gonna hurt like a bitch since your ice cold. But it’s what you need, okay?”
“It’s okay. Sometimes the things you need hurt you the most,” I answer looking him straight in the eye, palm on his cheek.
His eyes shut, “I know baby. I know. We’ll talk about us later. Let me just hold you now.” He lowers me inch by inch into the water, my bottom teeth sink into my lip as I try not to cry out in pain as my frozen limbs meet water that feels like hot lava on my skin. Whimpering, my arms cling to his neck.
“I know, baby girl. But it’s the only way,” he croons in my ear stroking locks of hair off my face. “What’s this?” His fingers brush the soaked bandage on my lower back. He peels it down so he can read the ink Mac took me to get. His finger gently touches the outlines around the puckered, red skin. “It’s beautiful, sugar. Classy and elegant, just like you.”
“I love you, Rog,” I whisper against his neck.
He inhales sharply hands stilling, “Love you more, baby girl.”
“I was so scared that I wouldn’t have a chance to say it to you.”
His strong body trembles under me, “Don’t think I’m gonna forget that stunt you pulled. Never disobey me again, Dev.”
“I can’t promise you that. I didn’t want to live in a world without you in it. I know it’s soon and I have my regrets for keeping things from you, but I swear on my soul, Rog—I’ll never lie to you again—about anything.”
“Dev, “he moans shifting me into his lap, his cock jutting out of the water, nudging against my sex.
My lips nibble against his neck, my arms still clinging around his broad back as I lift my hips, impaling myself at once.
We don’t speak, lost in our devastating reunion and the knowledge that one of us could have been killed and we would never know the bliss of being together like this; coiled around each other flesh molding and yielding giving and taking—bonds being forged that the end of time can’t break.
Water sloshes over the side of the tub, Rog’s hand falls, fingers finding my clit, rubbing it soft then hard. His lips capture a nipple, whiskers from his beard feeling decadent as they brush against me at the same time the bulbous tip of his cock hits my G-Spot. My eyes roll back in my head, I’m coming apart at the seams and don’t care. I want to fall, knowing he’s going to catch me. I come hard, riding him to the finish, he lets go, hands cupping my face as I feel him spill inside me, “Mine,” he growls, eyes feral at what Gregory almost took from him, “Say it, Dev.”
“Yours,” I pant crying and falling against his chest.
He grunts, satisfied and lifts me up still nestled inside me and steps out of the hot tub, through the house to the master bedroom where he reluctantly sets me down to turn on the massive walk-in shower.
He sets the temperature, carries me in, lovingly washing me. His hands caress soap over my skin, he peppers kisses on my neck, washes my hair, whispering words of love.
Sated, warm and tired, I fall asleep under the warm spray of the jets, the last words I hear are his saying he’s gonna love me forever.
“THANKS FOR MEETING ME.”
He slips into the booth across from me. Eyes identical to mine look back at me like a mirror.
“I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time,” I answer feeling tears prick my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he looks down clenching a fist on the table, “This isn’t about you. But I—I had a fucked-up childhood.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I simply say placing my hand over hi
s. “Duke… I’d like to invite you and Shanna to spend Thanksgiving with me and Rog. I want us to be family… please give me a chance?”
He shakes his head, “Damn, you are incredible. I came here to ask your forgiveness and for you to give me a chance,” he smiles warmly at me and in that moment, I know everything is going to truly be all right.
“How’s Shanna?”
“Good. Mad as hell at me for being thick-headed. She went to visit Rog over at Sassy’s.”
“That must be hard on her. It’s her first trip back to Springdale since her father died, right?”
“It is. But it’s time. She realized that she still has family here. You and Rog.”
“Me?”
“Yup, she always wanted a sister. Shanna grew up a club princess and hated every second of it. She never had movie nights, slumber parties or prom dates. Get ready ‘cause I think she already has a spa day or some shit planned for you and Luce.”
“I can’t wait,” I grin feeling warmth spreading through me, “I already love her.”
“Good. I want you to be a part of our lives, Devon. Now, tell me everything, starting with your first birthday party.”
I sit back sipping my soda, the fizz settling warmly in my stomach, “Now that’s a story. My dad’s cousin got drunk and belted out the National Anthem instead of singing Happy Birthday complete with a belch at the end. Let’s just say the next year only half of the girls in my class showed up at my birthday party…”
“Your adoptive family is large?”
“No—not really. Although, their personalities are huge. My mom almost decked my dad when he came home with a new sportscar without telling her. They’re both coming for the holidays. They want to meet Rog and well—Creed.”
“They cool with you being a pledge.”
“What? I’m not a pledge.”
“I know. You’re already in.” He slips something out of the inside corner of his jacket and slides it across the table.
My hands tentatively reach for the patch. It’s old and worn and smells like old cigars. It reads “CREED PREZ.”
“It was his.”
“Our father’s?”
He nods, “I wanted you to have it. I’m sorry Dev. I’ve read all his old journals and went through his papers when he died. There’s no indication that Dee ever told him. I think she might’ve been using your existence for leverage against him if she ever needed it. She died carrying the secret of you with her.”
“Until I showed up thirty years later.”
“That you did.”
“So, you must’ve been around ten when I was born?”
“Eleven. I think Dee told my Ma about you. Our old man was a stubborn son of a bitch and wouldn’t let her go. But the affair broke her. She eventually left, and I never heard from her again. I’ve tried finding her but haven’t had any luck so far.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Our dad was just as guilty as Dee. But as Shanna pointed at—no one blamed him for the way it all went down. They blamed her.”
“Wait. I’m confused. My adopted Mom, Carol, said Dee died when I was two. That can’t be right.”
“No. Dee died when I was twenty. I remember that well.”
“Why would she lie to me?”
“Carol?”
“Yeah, hold on I need to make a call.” Picking up my phone I call home.
“Mom?”
“Hey, sweetie! How did it go? I know you were nervous about meeting your brother.”
“It’s going well. I’m still with him. Listen, I need to ask you something. I’ll forgive you if you lied but I need to know—did Dee die when I was two or ten?”
She sucks in a breath, “I’ve never lied to you honey. I received a phone call when you were two from a woman who said she was with the adoptive agency. She told me Dee had died and asked for our address to send you the letter.”
“Okay. That’s weird. I’ll call you later and we can talk more about Thanksgiving.”
“Sounds good, sweetie. I’m sorry I wish I could tell you more.”
“That’s okay. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Shrugging my shoulders, eyes meeting Duke’s puzzled ones I tell him, “She’s telling the truth. So, who called her telling her Dee was dead? And why?”
“Some secrets will never be uncovered,” he shrugs, “but we found each other and that’s all that matters now. Come on there’s something I want to show you.”
“Okay.”
He helps me out of the booth dropping a twenty and ushers me out the door of the diner. Zipping up my jacket, I throw my head back giggling at the first flakes of snow falling all around us.
“Didn’t they have snow in Chicago?”
“Yeah. There was plenty, but the flakes were never this light or fresh.”
“You love Springdale. Don’t you?”
“I do.”
He opens the passenger door for me and rounds the truck sliding in. “It’s ironic. I couldn’t wait to leave. But now I’m seeing it all again through your eyes. Most people can’t wait to leave and go to some big city.”
“I hate cities. There’s nothing fresher than the air of Springdale in late spring.”
He smiles, turning on the car. Warm air blows through the vents as he drives through town, up the hill and through the gates of the cemetery.
“Duke?”
He doesn’t answer but parks on the side of the road getting out. I open my door without waiting for him. He takes my hand and leads me over to Dee’s grave.
“It’s beautiful,” I gasp placing a gloved hand over my mouth in shock.
Behind her headstone is a beautiful angel carved from stone, arms outstretched, wings open as she looks down.
“Maybe she was an angel after all. She gave me a sister and that counts for something. Maybe you were her saving grace; proof that she did something good with her life that cancels out the bad. Hell, I know I’ve done unforgivable things. It’s time Creed and the boys forgive Dee Dee Stanton.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, swiping tears.
“Rog and Shanna have been lighting up my phone wondering how we’re doing.”
“Well, you can text back that we’re doing just fine. Actually, we are doing fantastic.”
SMITH’S LARGE HANDS REACH for the gavel smacking it down, signaling the meeting to start.
All fifty of us are in the clubhouse in Cali, wearing our cuts with somber faces. We have a lot of shit to discuss tonight. Shit that once said is never spoken of again or tongues will get cut.
“Gregory has been dealt with. He’s six feet under, but the MC he started is still going strong. They’re voting next week on who their new Prez will be. I need all eyes and ears to the ground—they’re coming for us—make no mistake about it. We need to be diligent; lay off the hash and alcohol. We need to be alert and sober—I’m not losing one man to those thugs. They know we killed Gregory and they want payback.
I want all families moved to safehouses until further notice. We’ll homeschool if we have to. Make sure your women keep the location off-limits to anyone not in the club or the consequences could be our women and kids getting caught in the crossfire. Am I clear?”
“Aye,” the room resounds.
Smith slides the gavel over to me signaling it’s my turn to speak.
“Some of you have been here since the beginning and know our history. Others are newer members and were not. But it’s time to re-write our history. Life is unscripted, we don’t know what’s gonna hit us from one day to the next—that’s why we’re loyal to the brotherhood, love our women and protect those in our family to the death. I’m officially claiming Dee Dee Stanton’s daughter, Devon St. John as my woman; my old lady. Any attack on her or on her kin is an attack on us. Is that clear?”
Stunned faces stare back at me.
“I said, is that clear?” my voice low and deadly.
“Dev’s been one of us since the day she put he
rself in the line of fire to cover our ass,” Mac speaks up.
“Aye,” Federico chimes in, glaring at everyone to comply.
“AYE. Devon St. John is Creed,” my men repeat one by one. When the last member speaks, I lift the gavel smacking it down.
It’s done.
Dev’s mine in the eyes of my club. The words spoken by all here; a vow they’ll all protect her with their lives. It’s a pledge stronger than the vows of marriage although someday I’ll say those to her, as well.
“What are you waitin’ for, Silver Fox? Go back to Springdale and claim your woman.”
I grin at Smith, “When are you gonna come back? Still scared of Luce, ripping your balls off?”
He pales, gets up and stalks off without a word.
Guess him and Luce still haven’t made-up, whistling I walk out and climb on my bike. It’s about time Smith knows what it’s like to burn for a woman. They way Duke and I do.
My bike climbs through the California hills, north towards Oregon, eating up miles of highway. I’ll be home by dawn, to slip under the covers and take my girl in my arms, make love to her until she tells me she’s mine over and over again.
I’m a lucky bastard. I never saw her coming or think that I’d ever find a love like ours. But I did. Year after lonely year went by, and I gave up ever looking for her.
Thank God, she came looking for me.
Fifteen months later…
ALTHOUGH I CAME TO SPRINGDALE in the peak of summer where it stood in all it’s wild glory full of soft ferns under dense evergreens stretching to the sky; I love winters here the most.
I snuggle under the heavy down comforter pressing my lips to his shoulder. He grunts, continuing to read the news on the e-reader I bought him last Christmas. His hair is wild and sexy and he’s wearing those black-rimmed reading glasses that make me so damn horny.
Shirtless, he winks at me, knowing damn well what he’s doing.
“Are they awake?” I ask snaking my hand down to stroke him.