Everything about her turns me on. Fucking everything. The flare of her hips. Her tiny, tucked waist. The heavy fall of hair that trails down her back. Her heart-shaped ass that I want to take a bite out of. And the shape of her magnificent tits I know will over-fill my hands. Tits I want to lick, suck, and inevitably leave my mark on.
Growling Beth’s name as I shoot my load on the tiled wall, watching it wash away only solidifies the knowledge that I’ve got to make her mine. Or better still, tell her she is. I’ll wait as long as she needs to get comfortable with the idea of being my woman. I won’t rush it. But I’m not backing down.
Drying off, I reach for a clean pair of boxers I brought into the bathroom with me, forego shaving, and slip into bed beside Beth. Feeling her weight shift, I pull her back to my front, settling her close, holding her tight.
I haven’t slept the night with a woman for eight years. It’s not something I do. Take them to bed, yes. Fall into a drunken coma for a couple of hours after fucking them, yes. But never an entire night. I’ve never wanted to wake up with a woman, take the time to hold her, memorize her face while it’s still soft with sleep, have coffee and see to her needs.
Laura was the last woman who spent more than one night in my bed, and when she did, I thought she would be the last. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
We met while I was on a run for the club back before I took the gavel. Her not being from Furnace was a plus when we started out. She wasn’t local which meant she wouldn’t hear about all the fucked up shit the MC was into, a definite bonus. I was into her, liked how she looked, liked the way she looked at me as if I was the only man in the room. Later, I liked how she sucked my cock like it was her job, loved the way she wrapped me up in her sweetness so I could forget the world around me for a few hours.
Shit didn’t go south between us for longer than I’d expected. Not that I’d wanted it to, it was just that Laura wasn’t built for the life I lived and I knew it. She was pure innocence. There wasn’t an ounce of fire in her. I didn’t know it then, but Laura wasn’t equipped for the inferno being with the club required. She was too submissive, too gentle.
Women who were tied to brothers needed a backbone of steel, a heart of gold, and a will of iron. They needed their own form of fire to bank the flames at home. None of which Laura had.
I’d been blinded by her pussy, her warmth, and her beauty. So blind I’d missed the signs something was wrong. A year into our relationship, I got a call that I thought would change my life.
I hadn’t seen Laura for six weeks when she called and dropped the bombshell she was pregnant. Aside from wondering how the fuck that happened when I made sure to wear a condom every time we were together, I couldn’t help but be ecstatic she was carrying my baby. It might have been poor timing, the club was in deep with some shit that wasn’t even close to nearing its end, but I was beyond ready to be a Dad.
Everything went to hell when she started pushing to move closer, wanting to share the pregnancy with me. Not that I didn’t want that, I wanted it with every fiber of my being, but I couldn’t have it.
I went in gentle, explained that it wasn’t safe for her or the baby in Furnace. She pushed back, claiming there had to be somewhere she could stay she’d be protected. I hadn’t wanted to hurt her when I shut her down, but I had. And I’d done it in a way that forced a crack in the façade she’d been putting up.
Much like, Sweets, Laura gave me an ultimatum; I relocate her, assimilate her into my life, take care of her, and make our relationship official, or I was cut off. Not just from access to her body, but from my unborn child too. That was when I saw red. There wasn’t anyone on Earth that would keep me from my kid, born or not. Not one person had the right to tell me I wouldn’t play a major part in raising my child, being there for every milestone, scraped knee, new tooth, first, second, or third step. That shit wouldn’t stand with me.
Diesel and Emily convinced me to think about it, calm down some before going to see her. I’d been all set to ride out the same day she’d threatened that bullshit to confront her, but I waited. That was my downfall. By telling me to hold off, doing what they thought was best for her and me, they inadvertently kept me from saying goodbye to my baby.
Laura and I had gone back and forth over where she’d live, what she expected from me for six months. By the time she’d had enough and given me what she considered my last chance, she was seven and a half months pregnant. To my knowledge, in other words, the scraps Laura fed me, her pregnancy had gone smoothly. Her doctor said she was textbook, whatever the hell that meant.
I fucking hated not being there, not seeing her get round and heavy with my baby. I had a choice, I could have gone against her wishes for me to stay away until I’d made my decision, but I respected her. I didn’t want to start a relationship if that’s what we were building towards with anger and distrust. But knowing what I do now, I’d do anything to go back and have that time over again. To be able to feel our child kicking, rub her feet when they were swollen and sore. I wouldn’t give a fuck if I’d had to go out and find pickles at three in the morning to satisfy some funky craving she had, I’d have done it.
The hospital called on September the twenty-eighth at one minute past eight that night, requesting I get to Cheyenne Regional Medical Center as quickly as possible. Two hours later, after breaking more than a dozen traffic laws, I parked in the emergency bay not giving a shit if my bike was towed, and ran the four floors up to maternity.
I’d like to be able to tell you it was a false alarm. I’d fucking love to be able to tell you Laura and I worked our shit out and she gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby. But I can’t.
At nine-forty-seven pm that same night, fourteen minutes before I got there, Laura gave birth to our perfect, yet not healthy seeing as she wasn’t breathing daughter, Georgia Rae.
My baby girl had all her fingers and toes, ten of each, I counted. Her head was covered in dark fuzz the same color as mine. With a sweet button nose, long eyelashes, and rosebud lips, Georgia was the epitome of perfection. She was beautiful. The most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. But she wasn’t for this world. Not for long.
Georgia Rae hadn’t taken her first breath. She wouldn’t look up at me so I could tell whose eyes she got, and she’d never smile. I wouldn’t get to watch Georgia as she learned to crawl, walk, ride a bike, or open her first present. I wouldn’t see any of that and neither would she.
I can remember the last time I cried with clarity. It had been the first brutal beating I got from my old man on my ninth birthday. But never have I cried the river of tears I did when I held my baby girl for what would be the first and last time. Every drip from my eyes that splashed onto her lifeless face would be forever burned into my memory. The discoloration of the light pink blanket she was wrapped in as my pain flowed freely etched into the depths of my mind.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. She’d have turned seven two and a half months ago. Georgia would be in school by now, and playing with the other kids in the clubhouse forecourt when we have family gatherings. She would have had her first ride on the back of my bike. If she smiled only five times a day, I would have missed thirteen thousand and seventy-five of them. And the world was a darker place for it.
As any woman would, Laura fell the fuck apart after we buried Georgia. I’m sure I was a big part of why, but at the time, through my own suffering, I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit.
Laura hadn’t intended to give Georgia my last name, throwing a rant when I demanded to be listed on both her birth and death certificates. There was no way I was having my daughter put in the ground without bearing my last name, which led to Laura refusing to speak to me for the three days leading up to the funeral and the day of.
Diesel, Emily, and Adelyn, who had gone through her own hell after losing her first child, and the rest of my brothers made the trip to Cheyenne with me to say goodbye to the little girl none of us would ever know. I don’t know h
ow I made it through that day, but I do know I couldn’t have done it without them.
Just when I figured things couldn’t get worse, they did.
Laura was admitted to the hospital a week after Georgia died with exhaustion, dehydration, and was placed under suicide watch. She’d tried, unsuccessfully thank fuck, to slit her wrists in the bathtub. I was a fucking mess when the nurse who was taking care of her called to tell me. I’d wanted to get on my bike, ride out and sit with her, but Nancy (Laura’s nurse) told me to stay put and she’d keep me updated. Apparently, Laura was on a mandatory seventy-two-hour psych hold and wasn’t permitted to have any visitors. Something I hated but abided by nevertheless.
In the weeks after she was discharged, Laura kept her distance, emotionally and physically. I’d tried to get out to see her as much as I could, but each time I did it only made her more unstable to the point she was coming unglued. Seeing me was a reminder of everything she’d lost, so I made the choice to stop going. I didn’t do it lightly and it wasn’t what I wanted, but it was better for Laura and that was all that mattered.
It took years, but eventually she got to a place where she could sit down and talk to me. We were never going to be an us again, neither of us wants that, but we did hash out the shit that she’d kept festering inside.
Now, we talk a couple of times a week. We’re not close, but we’re solid. I’m a sounding board for her, and she’s a friend. A lot of the brothers don’t get why I’d keep her as a fixture in my life, and in the beginning neither did I. I do now, though. It all boils down to her being the last living I have to Georgia. And I wouldn’t give that up for anything.
Which brings us to now, and what the fuck I’m going to do about juggling Beth and Laura.
*****
Standing out the back of Hounds, I looked at the men who made up Vengeance’s inner sanctum. Fury, Sly, Jump, Gage, Cash, and Deke. Diesel was missing, but since as he was seeing to Cami, I’d give him a pass on this one.
“You’re gonna have to take a hard line on this, Boss,” Gage advised. “What happened tonight wasn’t anything other than him needing to make a statement. Nix wouldn’t bother putting on a show if he didn’t want to force a reaction from us.”
“He’s not wrong,” Deke interjects. “Stupid motherfucker didn’t think it out all that well, but he knew Diesel would step up and get in his face about how he was treating his woman. Knew what it would lead to too.”
Gage lets out a bark of laughter, stating,
“You’re giving the asshole too much credit. He didn’t know shit. He hoped, but he didn’t fucking know. Not sure what his game plan is, but forcing our hand, declaring war like this wasn’t only stupid, it was fucking dangerous.”
“For who, brother?” Cash asks. “Not us, that’s for sure. Even if they don’t know who we’ve got taking our back, they’ve got to know Vengeance isn’t light on brothers or resources. What the fuck would he get out of pushing for war?”
“What he’ll get and what he hopes to get are two different things, Cash,” Gage volleys. “Don’t underestimate the power of stupidity, though, brother. Stupid means volatile, and unforeseen situations that we can’t plan for. All we’ve got now are threats and a whole fuckload of nothing.”
“Enough,” I rumble in the darkness. “There’s no point going over what we don’t have and can’t know until it presents itself. We’ve got to be smart, keep watch, and plan for the worst. It’s what we’ve always done, and what we’ll continue to do.”
“What does that mean for security?” Sly asks gruffly.
Lifting a hand to the back of my neck, I rub at the tension forming there wishing I was back inside pressed up against the gorgeous woman waiting for me. Instead, I’m out here in a dank alley, communing with my brothers over shit that shouldn’t be happening.
“We go on soft lockdown,” I answer shortly.
Soft lockdown refers to when only patch-wearing members, their old ladies, girlfriends, and their kids, all of whom are required to remain at the clubhouse, without exception. Patched brothers who don’t hold a seat at the table, their families, prospects, hang around’s, and club whores are free to come and go but not without someone accompanying them. We set prospects up to watch over the club whores and hang around's, patched members will take care for their own, and the unattached brothers get allotted the family that’s left.
“Who’re we calling in?” Comes from Jump.
“Need you to round up Emily, put Sarge on her,” I order, which is met with chuckles all round. I have to admit to holding back my own grin at that instruction. To say Emily and Sarge are oil and water would be a fucking huge understatement.
They’ve been at each other’s throats for years. I’d go as far as to say, they act a lot like the brother who are skirting around claiming a woman, but Emily would kick my ass for suggesting that. To her, Sarge is a cantankerous bastard with too much time on his hands to annoy her. And to him, Emily is a woman he takes great pleasure in pissing off every chance he gets. So I say let them have it. Better them than me having to deal with either of them.
“That’ll go down well,” Jump grimaces.
“It’ll go as expected. Just make sure we’ve got spare body bags and they’ll be fine,” I quip.
“And the rest?” Fury snaps tersely.
Sighing heavily because I know he’s not going to like this, I force out,
“Jump’s going to be a floater,” turning to Jump I add, “Keep track of who’s on who. Report back if you get short.” Addressing the group, I go on to say, “Gage is on Jay and his family. All except, Bella. Deke, you’ve got her. Sly, you’ve got extra eyes on Maddox’s kids. Lonnie is due to pop any day and he can’t he in two place at once. Cash, eyes where they’re needed. Sort it out with, Jump. He’ll tell you who needs watching. Get word to the others and let them know they’re up, but to keep it quiet. We don’t need their women and kids scared, just vigilant. Fury,” I say staring him down, warning him to keep his shit together. “She gets in first thing in the morning.”
“Oh, fuck no,” he snarls.
“Not up for discussion, brother,” I shoot back. “She’s Devil’s Spawn, Fury. You know what that means. And you know what’ll happen if anyone harms a hair on her head. I’m not saying one of the other boys wouldn’t be capable of keeping her safe, just that you’re up.”
“Got all the love in the world for you, Boss. You’ve got my respect too but put Deke on her. I’ll take Bella,” he offers sharply.
“Don’t know if you heard me or not, but I said this isn’t up for discussion,” I repeat. “Her Dad’s trusting us to keep his girl safe. I gave my word when he agreed we’d do that. I’m not going back on that because you’ve got taken issue with her. Pull your shit together. Watch her. And make sure she stays put. Avery won’t be leaving the clubhouse anyway, so she’s not going to be a problem that can’t be contained.”
“That’s what you fucking think,” he mutters brusquely.
“Right, that’s done,” I end abruptly. “Deke, I need you to get Beth, take her back to the clubhouse and keep her there. I’ve got somewhere to be. Make it known she’s off-limits. I don’t give a shit how you get that message across, but do it so it can’t be mistaken,” I demand.
“Need a second rider, Boss?” Jump enquires. Before I can answer him his guesses, “My guess is, you’re bringing Laura in too. I don’t know how she’s gonna take that, but I’m figuring you’re gonna need a hand corralling her ass into your truck.”
And that’s no joke.
Laura has only been locked down once in the time I’ve known her, and that didn’t go well. Getting her here when that was at one time the only thing she’d wanted was like pulling teeth, and she made it clear the entire time she was at the clubhouse she wasn’t happy about it.
She doesn’t get a say in the matter, though. Not when anyone of us could be a potential target for Hells Riders.
“She’s got no choice, brother. I’m going t
o head home and switch my bike out for the truck and head out. She’ll take it better if it’s just me who shows, but keep your burner on you just in case I need backup.”
“Got it,” he confirms.
Orders issued, my brothers disperse heading home or back to the clubhouse, and I make the almost three-hour drive to Cheyenne.
Laura took it better than I’d hoped, only bitching at me for the first hour and a half of the trip back, along with the forty minutes it took for her to pack a bag. Her position was that no one knew about her. Hence, she couldn’t be used as leverage. I disagreed. The fact is, anyone worth their leather would be able to trace me to her. It doesn’t take a genius to check phone records if you’ve got the number the calls originated from. And if they did, they’d see a fuck ton of calls between us over the years. Something I wasn’t willing to risk because it might make her feel uncomfortable. Better that than dead, I figured.
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 17