“Morning,” I chirp, sitting down next to her on the couch.
This is another new development. Lena isn’t hiding in Gage’s room anymore, or not entirely. It only took six days. But now, she talks to the boys, helps with the cooking, and just the other day, she patched Gage up after his gun misfired, burning the back of his hand.
She isn’t chatty, or, at least, she isn’t with the guys, but on more than one occasion I’ve found her giggling at something Sarge said, smiling at Gunner, or looking contemplatively at Gage. That last one concerns me, not for her. For Gage.
If Knight were to notice the way she appraises him – watching him as if she was trying to figure him out – I can only imagine what the fallout would be. Knight doesn’t appear to be the type of man who would appreciate his wife’s attention on another man. Especially one as attractive as Gage.
Younger than Boss, Diesel, Cash, and Jump, at thirty-four, he lived a hard life, and he wears that in the way he carries himself. I wouldn’t classify him as classically handsome, what with his slightly crooked nose, scar through the center of his right eyebrow, and the fact that he’s tattooed neck to waist, but if you ask me, that only adds to his appeal.
Gage has light brown hair is buzzed short all over, which he says it’s easier to maintain, dark, chocolate brown eyes that can be as warm as they can hard, and is built like a cage fighter. That’s probably a good thing seeing as he still competes in the underground fights Knight hosts in his gym once a month. Gage isn’t tall, at six-foot-one, but he towers over my five-foot-three frame.
However, by far and away Gage’s most attractive quality is his intelligence. According to Jonas, Gage had his IQ tested when he hit high school. And because the results were so extraordinary, his teacher made him take two more yet different versions of the test. All of the results came back the same. Those being; Gage is a certified genius.
You would think with an IQ of one hundred and sixty-seven that would open doors for him; it didn’t. In the end, Gage’s home situation, the issues he had with his parents, and him not wanting to leave his best friend left him desolate and living on the streets until he began prospecting with the Black Widows out in L.A.
I only found this out recently. Jonas didn’t tell me much about what happened when he was invited to sit in on a Vengeance church meeting, but he did share that.
“Morning, Blaine,” Lena returns quietly.
“Girl, where’s the big bastard usually trailing you around like a lost dog,” Sarge bellows from his seat at the bar.
Cocking an eyebrow at him, I yell back,
“Does Jonas know you refer to him as a dog when he isn’t around,” already aware that Jonas absolutely does not.
“Don’t give a shit if he does or he doesn’t sweetheart,” Sarge chuckles heartily. “Where is he?”
“At work. You know that thing people do when they want to eat?” I answer sarcastically but smiling.
“And we all know how that boy likes his food. It’s a good thing his Momma owns that diner, or she would’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day just to keep that boy in food,” Sarge points out correctly. “Tell him to get his ass to my house this weekend. I’ve got something I need his help with.”
“Will do,” I say dismissing him with a wave, turning my attention back to Lena. “Do you feel like getting out of here and taking a walk around the compound today?”
Lena may have started coming out of her room, but she’s yet to leave the safety of the clubhouse. No one can survive without fresh air, sunshine, and a change of scenery, so for the last two days I’ve been suggesting we start making little trips outside. Not far, especially since she’s still finding it difficult to get around without significant pain, and still within the security of the compound, but nonetheless, outside.
“Sure,” she shrugs, shocking the hell out of me.
“Really?” I breathe disbelievingly.
A small grin tips the corners of her mouth as she nods,
“Yes, I think it’s time. That and, you were right. Gage’s room and the rest of this place,” she states, gesturing to the main room, “smells like gym socks and something else I don’t want to think about.”
I don’t want to risk Lena changing her mind, so helping her up, we slowly make our way to the back door.
“Where do you two think you’re going?” Gunner startles us, stepping out from behind the bar.
“Seriously?” I hiss, slapping his arm playfully. “Can you please stop doing that? It scares the crap out of me.”
Repeating himself, he asks,
“Where are you off to? Boss told you Lena stays here, and I don’t think Knight will be a happy man when he shows up to find you’ve taken off with his wife.”
In a rare display of backbone, Lena snaps back,
“Well, he isn’t here, is he? And even if he was, I’m allowed to go outside.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, little one,” a gruff, deep voice sounds from behind us.
Well, it was a nice thought, I think turning around to come face-to-face with a highly amused Knight. His eyes are focused solely on Lena, and for the first time since he was permitted entry to her room, she looks happy to see him.
“Um,” I mumble. “We were just going to take a walk. Inside the fence, I promise,” I manage to explain, feeling extremely uncomfortable.
Besides the fact, Knight in his own right is an intimidating guy, the amount of sexual tension sparking between the two of them is enough to make a prostitute blush.
Ignoring me completely, Knight outstretches his hand willing Lena to take it. When she does, albeit hesitantly, he smiles broadly ratcheting his level of hotness up from tall, dark, and hot to delicious, make your panties melt, sexy.
“How you doing today, little one.”
I love how he calls her ‘little one’, but I especially love the gentle tone he uses when he does it.
“Better,” Lena mumbles to her feet.
It hasn’t even been a week, but Lena’s reluctance to Knight is disconcerting, to say the least. I had hoped she would have had a breakthrough of sorts by now. Knight’s persistence, patience, and tenderness should have been enough to smash through whatever walls she has erected around herself. But sadly, I’m yet to see anything other than the occasion hand holding, only when Knight initiates it, and a few smiles shared between them.
I have a feeling there is a lot more to their problems than just what happened to Lena recently. However, no one’s talking. Not Jonas. Not Knight. And certainly not, Lena.
“Her back?” Knight demands, the question aimed at me.
“Good. Really good, actually. Doc Willis was here earlier, and he said as soon as Lena feels comfortable with it, she should start leaving the bandages off. Only for an hour or so at first, building up the time slowly until she can forego them all together,” I grin at him, relaying the doctor’s specific instructions.
Truthfully, there was a lot more to Doc Willis’ visit today, but that’s not mine to share. For the most part, he had been coming to do his usual daily check-up, but a muttered question from Lena had him staying forty-five minutes longer than he’d intended.
I didn’t lie, though. Lena’s back is healing well. A strip of tissue approximately two and a quarter inches wide around the outside edge is starting to scab over. The center mass of the wound is still red and angry, but it’s beginning to dry out and according to Doc, that’s a good thing.
We continue to clean it with the antibacterial wash, Doc Willis gave me the day after Lena arrived, but we’ve been able to cut back to just once a day. Hopefully, in a week or so that will reduce further to once every two days and so on until Lena can shower normally.
Her wrists are almost entirely healed, and as I thought, aside from a few small areas of raised skin, which will turn into even smaller scars they will be barely noticeable.
Lena’s throat is a bone of contention between her and Doc, however. Doc Willis believes there’s a one and a half inch by three and
a quarter inch section of skin that would benefit from a skin graft.
He explained all the logistics of it, including the fact that they could remove the section of healthy skin from her upper thigh or buttock, but Lena refused immediately. I’m unsure what her aversion to hospitals are considering she is a nurse, but this too is up to her, and if she says she doesn’t want it, then we have to respect that.
“That’s great, little one,” Knight rumbles. “If you want to take a walk, how would you feel about doing that with me?”
I know what he’s doing, and I commend him for it. Knight is doing his damnedest to give Lena things she wants so that she associates feelings of joy with him. I read something about this on the internet the other day when I was researching how to rebuild trust with victims of violent crimes.
Now, I highly doubt Knight was reading the same article, which makes him doing it unconsciously even more amazing. He’s intuitive when it comes to his wife, managing to anticipate Lena’s needs without her having to voice them. This being one of those times.
“Um, I don’t know,” she continues to mumble. “I thought Blaine was coming with me.”
I make the split decision that they need this time together more than she needs me there to hold her hand, I give Knight the opening he’s looking for. My excuse is transparent – there’s no way Lena won’t see straight through it – but I know she will thank me for it eventually. Or, at least, I hope she will.
Pulling my cell out of my back pocket, I exclaim,
“Oh, look at the time. I said I’d pick up lunch for Jonas and take it to him, so I better go,” earning a shit eating grin from Knight and a worried frown from Lena. “Will you be alright if Knight goes with you today, honey? I promise you and I can go tomorrow and have girl time.”
Lena glances nervously around the main room to see if anyone is willing to save her. She’s out of luck, though, because not one man in here would dare come between Knight as his wife. They all know firsthand what would happen to them if they did. In particular, Gage.
Day three of Lena’s stay at the clubhouse was the worst for two reasons. One, her level of pain was so extreme no safe amount of painkillers were doing the job.
And two, Knight and Gage got into a knockdown, drag-out fight over a stupid, thoughtless comment Gage made. Granted, Knight could have handled it better, but that being said, so could Gage.
Gage made the mistake of offering Knight advice about how to handle Lena, and needless to say, that was not appreciated in the slightest. In the end, it was Lena’s screams for them to stop that penetrated through the thick fog of testosterone.
Sarge pushes his way in between Lena and I, sliding his arm around her slim shoulders with a broad smile on his handsome face.
“Of course, she’ll be fine. Stop asking stupid questions and go feed your man, sweetheart. Lena knows we’ll take care of her, and if her boy here steps over the line or upsets her, I’ll kick his ass.” Turning his smile on Lena, he asks, “That work for you, darlin’?”
Not knowing what to make of him, Lena nods cautiously in response.
“Good. That’s sorted then. Now, get out of here, girly. There’s sun to be had and a walk to take.”
Guiding her into Knight’s arms, we watch them go before I shove my shoulder into Sarge’s side and wrap my arms around him.
“I know your secret. You’re a big softie at heart.”
“Now, don’t you go telling anyone that, girl. I’ll loose my badass reputation,” he chuckles.
Giving him one last squeeze, I turn on my heel and return,
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
~ Jonas ~
“I’m not an asshole, I was just raised by a woman who taught me not to believe everything I hear. Remember, she raised you too?”
- Jonas to Bella
“Quit whining like a bitch and take it like a man,” I gripe at Torr for the tenth time in as many minutes.
“If you’d stop digging it in harder than you have to, I would,” he groans, moving yet again.
From the door, Goff barks out a laugh, informing us,
“If anyone heard you from out in the waiting room, they’d be thinking you were doing something a hell of a lot different in here than you are.”
Yeah, I bet they would.
Torr’s been on my ass for months to finish his half sleeve, so with an opening in my schedule today, I said I’d work on it, but if any walk-ins came through the door, he’d have to be content with what I’d been able to get done. Lucky for him that is yet to happen.
“Tell him to stop abusing me,” Torr pouts at his brother.
“Now, why would I go and do a fool thing like that?” He grins unrepentantly at him.
“Because you’re my brother you betraying bastard,” he hisses back. Jabbing a finger in my direction, he declares, “He’s only doing it because he gets off on causing me pain and that shit is just plain not right.”
Goff shakes his head in disgust, probably wondering how he ended up with such a whiny bitch for a brother.
“Get over it, dude. You’re covered in ink, and big man here did most of it, so it can’t be that bad or you wouldn’t keep going back for more.”
“Well, I didn’t think he’d physically assault me, now did I?”
That one has me chuckling.
“For fucks sake,” I snap once I’ve gotten myself under control. “shut the hell up, or get out of my chair, Torr. I’ve got better things to do than sit here listening to you bitch.”
“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I’ll be quiet. But you,” he snaps, gesturing to Goff, “are dead to me.”
“Jesus Christ,” Goff exhales. “Do me a favor and make him mute while you physically assault him, would you?”
“No, please don’t. I don’t want our baby’s first memory of you to be wearing an orange jumpsuit while visiting you in a state penitentiary,” Blaine exclaims, appearing out of nowhere.
Putting my gun aside, I signal for her to come take a load off.
“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?”
Blaine arranges herself in my lap, winding her arms around my neck, before saying,
“Knight and Lena needed some time together, so I thought I’d come and see what you boys were up to.”
“It’s good you’re here,” the crazy bastard in the chair comments. “Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
“What is he going on about? You haven’t been upsetting the children again, have you?” Blaine questions with mock seriousness.
Just as I go to answer, Goff interjects.
“Your baby’s first memory is safe, Blaine. My brother is just being a whiny asshole. Actually, I’m surprised at the big man’s restraint,” he muses. “Usually by now, he would have threatened to kick Torr’s ass, at least, twice but so far nothing. You must be a good influence on him.”
Goff’s wrong. It’s not Blaine’s influence that has me refraining from kicking Torr’s ass. It’s that I have plans with my woman tonight, and nothing is getting in the way of them. Especially not a trip to lock up.
“We’re done,” I announce, not bothering to give Torr or Goff a second look. “Now, get the fuck out and go do some work. That is what I pay you for, after all.”
*****
I closed on the house last week, keeping it low key so that I could surprise Blaine with it after I ask her to marry me tonight. We won’t be able to move into it straight away, it’s not even close to being up to code, but hopefully she’ll see it for what it is. The start of our future together.
When I explained to Mom what I wanted to do tonight, after getting over her initial shock, she was more than happy to help me out. I’m not good at this romantic shit, but Blaine deserves hearts and flowers, so I’m going to give it to her.
Blaine jumps down from her seat in my truck, rounding the hood to staring blindly into the dark.
“It’s so quiet out here,” she whispers, tucking herself into
my side.
Grabbing the picnic basket out of the backseat, I take her hand and guide her the hundred feet into the clearing, and stop at the edge of the blanket I had Fury set up for me.
Tall glass vases, sixteen of them – the same number as years she was when I fell in love with her – are positioned close enough for us to see what we’re eating, but not too close that we risk setting ourselves on fire. A bunch of tiger lilies, Avery ordered online and had delivered, sit off to one side, and on the other an unopened bottle of non-alcoholic wine.
“Jonas,” Blaine breathes. “This is beautiful.”
“I wanted to do something special for you,” I confess.
Blaine pulls me down onto the blanket, and then promptly climbs into my lap and wraps herself around me.
“What’s the special occasion?” She asks as the silence stretches.
Sliding my hand between us into the front pocket of my jeans, I fist the two-karat engagement ring I’ve been carrying around for ten days and take a deep breath. This is the most important speech I’m ever going to make, so it has to be just right.
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 85