The Riot (Hell's Disciples MC Book 5)
Page 15
“You can do better than that,” she laughs, resting her head on my shoulder.
At my place, in my bed, I keep her close, but she’s also keeping me closer. She’s clinging to me, and I’m happy as hell about it.
“The prospect was a rat, workin’ for the other club, feeding them info for a patch I hear.”
“That’s shitty.” That’s an understatement.
We’ve gone through a hell of a lot of prospects. Some work and some don’t. Not once in fifty fucking years have we had a rat. We had a good run, but now it’s time to start fixing the holes and repairing the damage.
“Yeah, babe, it is.”
“My brother?” I knew that question was coming. Fuck, I just don’t have the heart to tell her. Shrugging, I say, “I’m not sure, babe.”
“He’s dead isn’t he?”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Oh.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah. Sad for him.”
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask, even though I sure as fuck don’t want to.
“Maybe later. So what else happened?”
“No more story time.”
Ellison frowns, but it only lasts until I flip her ass over and cover her with my body.
“I need me some Ellison right now.”
“Just right now?” she asks, cocking a brow.
“Right now. Tomorrow. For fuckin’ ever.”
“Promise?” she smiles and I melt.
“On my goddamn life, baby.”
Epilogue
Rock
There is nothing better than the smell of barbeque in the air. Nothing quite like a cold beer on a hot as fuck day either. But nothing, and I mean nothing can top Ellison in a bikini. It’s a fucking sight.
“How the fuck’d she squeeze her ass into that thing?” Tyler asks, laughing. I’m glad he finds it funny. I wonder if he’ll find it funny when I drown his ass in the pool.
“How the fuck have I not killed you yet?” We’re friends, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kill him for looking sideways at my girl.
My girl. More like, my old lady. Finally. Took ten plus years, but we finally got there. Took some scary shit to put us in the right place, but it’s a done deal.
“Luck,” he shrugs, pulling a lawn chair up next to mine. “Dumb fuckin’ luck.” Dumb is right.
Kicking back, feet propped up on the pool railing, I watch El, Lennon, Lala, Sam, Lil, and Cali float around on beach floats, laughing at each other. Summer finally showed up and we’re all happy as hell about it. It came screaming in, right around July. Hot as hell and muggy as shit, but you’re not gonna hear much complaining from anyone after the snow we had.
Barbequing and relaxing, we’ve got some of the guys from Washington here, some from down South, and a few from the North. A celebration of sorts, for the fact that we survived the cold motherfucking winter.
Sometimes we just need to recoup, remind ourselves we survived some shit no normal motherfuckers could. We congratulated each other on not ending up six feet under.
Rampage takes up the space next to me, claiming the old lounger. That asshole is never too far from Lala, but really, I’ve got no damn room to say shit. After what happened with El, you’ll usually find me close behind her. I’m not taking any chances this time around.
“Drink me!” El shouts, paddling over to the edge of the pool. Her hand’s out, fingers wiggling, demanding her drink.
“The fuck do I look like to you? Your pool boy?” I don’t get up. I don’t do a goddamn thing.
She smiles and nods slowly. “Uh, yeah.”
T laughs and Poncho joins him. “Shut the fuck up,” I tell them half-heartedly. I’m too full and too hot to bother hitting either of them.
“Come on, Rocky.” she whines.
I heave myself out of my chair, walk my ass across the back lot, and get Ellison her drink.
Walking back over to the pool, I bend down and hand it to her. She takes it and smiles. Her eyes shining in the sun hits me square in the gut. I don’t know what I’d do if I never got to see those eyes again, or that smile.
Her drinks are consisting of the non-alcoholic variety now.
“Is swimmin’ even good for the baby?” I know about as much about babies as I do purses, which isn’t shit.
“What do you think she’s doing in there? She’s swimming.”
She. I’ll never get used to that. A daughter. What the fuck am I gonna do with another El? I swear I met my quota with El. Apparently, I’m being punished.
I’m not gonna lie, I’m scared as fuck, but not El. She’s so goddamn happy, and if she’s happy, I’m happy.
“What do you mean she’s swimming in there?”
Everyone laughs, but I don’t. This baby business is stressing me out, but there’s no one I’d rather do it with than El. She promised me I could, so I’m gonna have to take her word for it.
“I bought you that book.”
“And I tossed that book the fuck out.”
“Rocky. You promised me you’d read it.” Fuck, she’s got me there. I didn’t toss it out, but it’s covered in grease rags in the shop.
“Yeah, I’ll read it.” Only for El and our baby.
The baby showed up about the same time spring did. I wasn’t ready then, and I’m not ready now, but I’m fucking excited and nervous; about every other uncomfortable emotion possible. I may not be ready, but I’ll get there with El helping me along.
El’s everything I want and need. Her, my baby, and my brothers, that’s all this motherfucker needs in life. Everything else, I can figure the fuck out as it comes.
I’m not a white picket fence kinda guy, but Ellison is my white picket fence, and I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about it.
“Love you, baby doll.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
About the Author
Reader. Writer. Crazy person. Lover of all things home décor and the color black.
Jaci J lives on the coast in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her lovely, but crazy family. If she's not reading or writing you can find her wandering the isles of a home store or hanging out with her monster son.
She's the author of The Hell's Disciples MC series and The Sick and Twisted Love series.
You can find her on Facebook: https://facebook.com/authorjacij or her website: https://jacijauthor.com