Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas

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Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 72

by Natasha Thomas


  However, where her height fails her, Bella’s personality makes up for the shortfall and then some. She is larger than life, loves being the center of attention, and can command a room filled with a hundred bikers better than Boss can. All those bastards are practically wrapped around her little finger, just how she likes it.

  So, taking that into account, knowing who and what my sister is, it wouldn’t surprise me if every word Gage speaks is the truth.

  Eventually, I sigh,

  “She’s not mine, though, brother. She never has been, and never will be.”

  “I’d say that’s a matter of perspective,” he declares. “You mightn’t think she’s yours, but the same can’t be said for her. That girl has been yours since the second she caught sight of you ten years ago and thought you hung the moon and the stars. Nothing’s changed, Jay. If anything, now, the way she looks at you is deeper, more meaningful. And I’ve got to say, a woman only looks at a man like that if she’s had him in her bed.”

  “Stop,” I demand in warning.

  “Fuck that, and fuck you,” he sneers. “None of those other assholes has the balls to say this to you, but I don’t have the same problem. What is you malfunction? You’ve got a beautiful woman who’s clearly in love with you sitting across the room with another guy, and yet you still won’t do the first fucking thing about it. Do you know what I would give to have that? Everything. I would give every last fucking thing I have at the promise of what you have waiting for you if you pull your head out of your ass. Not many of us get a shot at what she’s offering you, and less still are smart enough to recognize what’s staring them right in the face until it’s too late. Don’t be that dumbass, Jay. Don’t ignore the fact you have a shot at that kind of beauty. Because I’m telling you now, if you do, you’re going to regret it.”

  In response, I threaten,

  “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, so it’d be a good idea if you let this shit go before I knock your teeth down your throat.”

  “Again, that’s where you’re wrong,” he challenges. “I’ve had beauty like that, and I lost it. Fucking twice. I won’t talk about the first time I fucked up, that shit’s still too raw. I’ve gotta tell you, though, brother. If it weren't for me fucking it up with her, I would never have ended up with the second girl because I would have already had everything.”

  I’ll respect his privacy, but I can’t say my interest isn’t peaked. I wouldn’t have thought Gage capable of having feelings like that for anyone, let alone openly admitting them.

  Clearing his throat, Gage draws my attention back, by explaining,

  “The second girl wasn’t right for me from the very beginning. She was too good for me, but I was too selfish to walk away after already losing so much. Looking back on it, I should have backed off and given her a chance at a safe, normal, stable life. But this girl knew what my life was like, that I’d do anything for my club and my brothers, and I thought her being with me meant she accepted that; she didn’t. Sara wasn’t built for this life. She came from money, and me not being able to keep her in five hundred dollar purses, and twelve hundred dollar shoes was a deal breaker for her. That and, I suppose me refusing to tell her I loved her could have played a part in it.”

  “Jesus. There are actually shoes that cost that much?” I hiss, ignoring the latter part of his confession seeing as I don’t have the first fucking clue how to reply to that.

  “Never would have known it before her, but my credit card bills did not lie,” he answers flatly.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry, man. What happened?”

  Shaking his head, Gage replies,

  “Money was only one of our issues, Jay. And like I said, not even close to the biggest one. I found out not long after I confronted her about the five grand she racked up in the space of a couple of days, that I wasn’t the only man she had on her hook.”

  At his statement, Gage’s eyes harden and his mouth thins into a tight line. I can see his pain written starkly on his face, but there’s more there too. Anger. Hatred. Betrayal. Distrust.

  “The other guy she was seeing, had been for two out of the three years we were together, was from the same background as her. Wealthy in a way I would never be, he came from old money. A fuck of a lot of it. He didn’t blink at her dropping two grand on shoes. That kind of money was his lunch money for the week,” he says sarcastically. “Sara’s parents hated me on sight, something I didn’t bother to try and fix. And that was another one of our problems. She was so firmly planted up her Mom and Dad’s ass, that you didn’t know where she ended and they began. Twice weekly dinners. Shopping almost every day with her Mom. Drinks with her Dad after his Tee-time. She spent more time with them than she did working, which wasn’t much. I’m all for family, but that shit was ridiculous. In the end, me not wanting to spend time with them was what she used as her excuse to end it between us. She said that if I didn’t love her enough to put in the work with her folks to get them to like me, I obviously didn’t love her as much as I said I did. All of it was just a smoke screen for the truth, though. She was already engaged to the other motherfucker before she called it quits with me. Something I learned when her parents sent me an invitation to their engagement party.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “You can say that again. I’m not stupid, I knew she wasn’t the woman I was meant to end up with, but Sara filled a void for a while there. No doubt, I cared about her, but I couldn’t force myself to love her. By the end, she killed any feelings I had for her, and I walked away a different man. A man I don’t think I’ll ever will be again. So, yeah, Jay, I do know something about what it’s like to feel the way you feel about Blaine. Shit might be complicated now, but if you want her, you’ll put in the effort to make it uncomplicated, and you’ll do it fast. A woman like her isn’t going to stay single for long, brother. You’re not the only man in this bar who knows she’s worth tying yourself in knots over to get a chance at the kind of gift she is.”

  Less than five minutes later, Gage is gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  As much as I want to – need to – tonight isn’t the night to make my approach. I’ve got too much to think about, and before I seek Blaine out, I have to have no doubt in my mind about what I want from her and that I can give her what she wants from me in return.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ~ Blaine ~

  “Remember, if we get caught; you’re deaf, and I don’t speak English.”

  - T-shirt

  Lying on a cold, narrow table, covered only by a thin, scratchy sheet of paper, I watch as the monitor fills with the sight of my baby. A sight which is as amazing as it is painful.

  I never thought I would be in this position – pregnant, and having my first ultrasound without the father of my baby present. Granted, Jonas doesn’t know I’m pregnant, but that aside, I’m not sure he would be here even if he did.

  For the last seven weeks, I’ve gone backward and forward about the issue of telling Jonas he’s going to be a father. Part of me knows the longer I leave it, the harder it will be, but the part of my brain that controls self-preservation keeps me from picking up the phone.

  When I say self-preservation, I don’t mean in the sense that I believe Jonas would hurt me, or not physically, at least. He wouldn’t because he just isn’t built like that. What I’m worried about is my deceit (because that’s what he will view it as) destroying any shred of hope I have left that one day we can be friends again.

  Grief counselors say there are stages to coping with loss. Denial. Anger. Reasoning. Depression. And finally, Acceptance. I’m a combination of depression and acceptance. A far cry from where I was at anger only a few short weeks ago.

  “Everything looks perfect, Blaine,” my obstetrician Doctor Conner. “You are measuring right on time at sixteen weeks.”

  I found Doctor Conner when I came to Boulder Women's Health Center for a routine checkup. At the time, I didn’t have a doctor, I was seeing whoever happen
ed to be working seeing as I hadn’t made any decisions about what, or where I was going to continue my care.

  Luckily, I was scheduled to see her that day and took a liking to her immediately. Doctor Leslie Conner is not only highly regarded in her field and in demand by women throughout six counties, but she has the best bedside manner of any doctor I’ve ever met. Within minutes, she was able to allay my fears, and for that, I will be forever grateful.

  “Blaine,” she prompts, her eyes kind yet concerned. “Did you want to find out the sex of your baby today? It’s usually a little early to tell, but your little one is not shy about letting it all hang out for me to see.”

  Not realizing it would be a possibility today, I hadn’t given much thought to whether I wanted the sex to be a surprise or not. But seeing as I have enough to worry about as it is, being able to plan and organize for a boy or girl, might be a welcome distraction.

  Nodding my head, I whisper,

  “Yes please.”

  Doctor Conner grips my hand giving it a reassuring squeeze before gliding the gelled up wand lower on my stomach. Manipulating it, she smiles, saying,

  “Congratulations, sweetheart. It’s a boy.”

  Hearing that I’m having a boy, probably a little boy with his father's eyes, his dark hair, and build, I burst into tears.

  “Oh, Blaine,” Doctor Conner murmurs, hugging me tightly. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”

  She couldn’t be more wrong. Nothing is okay. Not the first thing.

  Twenty-five – twenty-six next week – jobless, seeing as I quit a week ago today, living in a one bedroom apartment, (having moved out of my old place two weeks ago), and lonelier than I ever been in my life; everything couldn’t be more fucked up. I really shouldn’t be complaining, though. After all, I did this to myself.

  Wracked with guilt over not telling Jonas about the baby, I couldn’t bring myself to keep living with Bella knowing I was asking her to keep such a big secret from him. To me there was only one solution; leave. So I did. And moving meant quitting my job since the commute was going to be two hours each way, something I wouldn’t be able to manage long-term.

  Bella wasn’t happy about my decision. Actually, I would go as far as to say she was furious. However, after a lot of yelling (her), even more crying (me and her), and plenty of implied threats (all her), she eventually gave up trying to convince me to change my mind. There were conditions to her capitulation, though. One’s I conceded to, partially to get her to shut up, and in part because I knew I needed to give her something in return for continuing to keep my secret.

  Firstly, I am to check in with her at least twice a day by text, and I’m to answer my phone every time she calls. If I don’t, Bella claims she will be on my doorstep the same day.

  Next, I have to keep her updated on how my pregnancy is progressing in the form of weekly pictures of my growing bump, reports of my doctor's visits, and any and all weird food cravings I’m having. I’m not sure why the latter is so important, but since it isn’t any hardship to let her know, I do it.

  Lastly, Bella made me promise to tell Jonas about the baby before it’s born. She doesn’t care when, just as long as I do it before I go into labor. That was the hardest condition for me to agree to. Not because it isn’t the right thing to do, or because Jonas has the right to know, but because like I said earlier, every day that passes it gets harder and harder to contact him.

  It has taken me this long to stop thinking about him every minute, if I’m lucky I can make it a full hour without thoughts or memories of Jonas surfacing, but I know the second I hear his deep baritone everything will come flooding back.

  Drying my tears with the back of my hand, I attempt what I hope is a smile.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break down like that.”

  “It’s completely…” Doctor Conner is cut off when the door to the exam room swings open and in storms a furious, Avery.

  “Miss, Miss, you can’t go in there,” the sweet nurse from the front desk squeaks.

  “Back off, bitch. Not you, an infantry battalion, or fucking Santa Claus can stop me from getting in that room and verbally kicking her ass,” Avery sneers.

  “I’m so sorry, Doctor Conner. She just barged right past me, opening doors until she found you. Do you want me to call security?”

  “Do it. I dare you,” Avery challenges menacingly. “If you do, make sure you call in backup because there are three brothers, and nine seriously pissed off bikers sitting just outside the doors to your clinic, ready and waiting for the first sign of trouble.”

  Oh. My. God. She called the club. By the sounds of it, both of them.

  “Which one?” I ask, wanting to confirm what I already know.

  “Both,” she snaps at me.

  Doctor Conner draws my attention away from the openly seething Avery, questioning,

  “Are you unsafe, Blaine? Should I call the police?”

  “No!” I all but yell. “No, please don’t. They would never hurt me, and as angry as she is, she wouldn’t either,” I assure her pointing at Avery.

  “I need a minute alone with my ex-best friend,” she snaps again, stressing the ex before best friend. “So, if you wouldn’t mind getting the fuck out, I’d be obliged.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement. One Avery expects to be obeyed.

  With a few more whispers of reassurance, Doctor Conner and the nurse slowly back out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  “I’m going to cut straight to the chase,” Avery remarks, positioning herself between me and the door.

  I don’t know why she’s bothering. If what she says is true – that there really are fifteen bikers from two clubs out front – I have no hope of escaping, not that I would bother trying. Even at just less than half way through, I’m belly is already the size most women are at seven or eight months. More proof I’m carrying Jonas’ clone.

  “Your day of reckoning is here, dearest cousin. Running off the way you did, not answering anyone’s calls, and quitting a job you loved left me with no choice but to call in the cavalry. Outside is your Dad, Saint, Glock, Reaper – who by the way is arguably more pissed than your Dad – and your brothers. But that’s only the beginning of the entourage I brought with me.”

  “Why?” I stupidly ask.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Why do you think, Blaine? You disappeared. No phone call. No warning. Not even a fucking note. You just up and ran off like a thief in the night,” she spits. “It isn’t like you to go an hour without returning one of my calls, let alone none of them for weeks. First, I was worried. Petrified something happened to you. For all I knew, you could have been dead in a fucking ditch.”

  At that, my face pales and the room begins to spin, but that doesn’t stop her rant. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it like that. Sure, I knew she would be worried and angry, but I didn’t think her mind would travel in that direction.

  Ignoring me off, she goes on to say,

  “After that, I got angry. As in, so angry I decided to kick your ass the next time I saw you. You can thank Fury for talking me down. If it wasn’t for him, and the fact you’re obviously in no state for the ass kicking you rightly deserve, I would be all over that like white on rice.”

  “How did you find me?” I interject, regardless of the fact I have a good idea already.

  “It’s not hard to break into an apartment when you’ve still got a key, Blaine,” she states drolly. “Bella charges her phone in the kitchen, and for the life of me I don’t know why, but she doesn’t have a passcode on it. She was asleep, I checked her cell, and low and behold, I found fascinating, super informative messages back and forth between the two of you.”

  Avery may act tough, and more often than no, has the words and actions to back her attitude up, but the tears in her eyes tell a different story. Guilt hits me hard when I see them. Avery isn’t a crier, not even during her horrible recovery after she was rescued from the animals who tortured her did she cr
y. Or, not that she let anyone see.

  “I only have two questions for you before I let the men waiting for us have their pound of flesh. Why? Why didn’t you tell me you’re pregnant? And why the fuck did you run off like that without talking to me first?” She hisses through her teeth.

  There’s no right way to answer that. Or I should say, no way to explain it in the limited time we have now, so I say,

  “It’s complicated.”

  Throwing her head back, Avery let our a humorless bark of laughter.

  “You don’t fucking say. But this isn’t a relationship status update on Facebook, Blaine. You don’t just to claim it’s complicated and leave it at that. And even if it is complicated, you made it worse. You, Blaine. No one else.”

  “Don’t you think I know that,” I mumble, shuffling my butt until it’s at the edge of the exam table. Slipping into my jeans, a maternity pair, and sliding my feet into my flip flops, I turn to face her. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. It was hard enough asking Bella to keep this a secret from her brother, I couldn’t ask you to keep it a secret from Fury who would, in turn, have to hide it from Jonas.”

 

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