by A. E. Fisher
“Are you psychic?”
“No.”
“Then don’t read my mind.”
My eyebrows pulled together. “I have to be psychic to be able to read you mind.”
“No, you don’t.”
“What—”
She stopped me with the shake of her head, raising a palm as she sighed in exasperation.
Meanwhile, I was more than sure this woman was bat-shit crazy. In fact, I was certain of it. What my brother ever saw in her would remain a mystery. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the reason I was here.
“You’re coming home,” I told her.
The second the words left my lips, I saw a rush of fear encompass her. She stiffened, her eyes growing wide as she looked down into her hand without seeing it.
It felt like a whole hour had passed before she turned to look at me, despair written in those brown eyes.
“I can’t,” she whispered at last.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Is there a difference?” she huffed, eyes looking straight into mine. “I’m not going back to that town either way.”
“Adair is my nephew. I won’t have the last piece of my brother living on the other side of the country. Besides, your mother is there. Your family, friends …” I could go on and on about all the people who cared for Mallory Ward. The girl wasn’t noticeably popular, but she was loved by everyone who knew her.
Her eyes flashed with pain and sadness before she turned away, leaning down to scoop up her little boy into her arms. His short arms swung around her neck and clung to her, his face buried in her hair.
“I can’t,” she whispered, walking past me.
“Why not?” I turned to follow her, one of my strides matching two of hers. “You owe someone money? Someone threatening you?”
“No!” she hissed, turning on me with that defensive flare. “I’m happy here.”
“Bullshit!”
“It’s not!”
“You’re telling me you love living in this run-down house that’s one knock away from falling to pieces in this kind of neighborhood?”
“There’s nothing wrong with this neighborhood,” she replied, not disagreeing about the house.
“This is a gang neighborhood. The house two streets down had the shit gunned out of it!” I already knew all the wrongs with her living conditions, but the more I listed them out loud, the more I felt the anger building in my chest. “Adair doesn’t even go to a school! He should already be in kindergarten by now!”
“He’s not old enough for kindergarten. He’s in daycare,” she retorted, clutching the shaking Adair closer. “He goes to Sunny Skies.”
“You mean that piece of shit painted with rainbows and dick graffiti I rode past on the way in?”
She didn’t argue.
“That’s it!” I yelled, throwing my arms in the air. “Grab your shit. You’re coming home with me.”
“What?” she screeched. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”
“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice.” I reached forward and grabbed the free arm she wasn’t using to hold Adair, tugging her forward.
“I do have a choice,” she growled, struggling against his hold. “And I’m not going with you.”
“Then I’ll call child services,” I snapped, whirling on her. I dropped my voice. “Then they’ll come; they’ll see this house, that piece of crap school, that house torn apart by bullets; and they’ll take Adair from you. Do you want that?”
“No!” Mallory screamed, her grip on Adair tightening.
“Then you’re coming with me.”
“But—”
“No.”
When her struggling began to wane, I loosened my grip. Suddenly, she stopped, and I jerked back, coming to a standstill.
Turning to face her, I opened my mouth, ready to argue with her some more, only to snap it shut.
Her eyes were downcast, wide and round, and so still it was unnerving.
“Mallory?” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
There was emotion, little bits of it flickering into smaller parts of her expression. She simply looked down into the gaping hole in the floor like it was the abyss to hell.
“Mallory,” I said louder as I cupped her face, forcing her to look up at me. As she did, I noticed sorrow and grief, but most of all, guilt.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“Why?” I demanded. Why couldn’t she come home? What was keeping her from the place that held everyone she loved? What was she hiding?
She shook her head, unable to answer.
I growled out a sigh, letting her go to run my hands through my hair, the cogs working in my head.
“You’ll come home, and you’ll stay with me,” I declared.
I had planned for her to move in with her mother or something, but until then, she was going to stay with me. Truth be told, I needed to keep my eyes on her. There was no way I could trust her not to run.
She didn’t agree.
“I can’t stay with you,” she argued, coming back to herself.
I was about to argue some more when I heard the roar of a vehicle engine in front of the house. When the sound cut out, I turned back to Mallory, seeing her eyes on mine, seemingly thinking nothing of the sound.
“That’s our ride,” I replied.
In that second, she looked trapped, ready to bolt.
“Child services,” I reminded her.
Her expression turned into one of fury that made me feel cautious. Then she raised her free hand and swung at me so fast I didn’t have time to stop it.
Heat burned the side of my face, and I was positive the metallic taste on my tongue was blood.
“Bastard!” she hissed before stomping down the hallway and into one of the other rooms.
“Where are you going?” I yelled.
“To get my shit!” she yelled back.
She slammed the door shut behind her with an echoing bang. Then I heard the harsh sound of Adair crying again. It was only a few moments before she appeared from the doorway again, Adair clutching her long shirt as she pulled a small suitcase behind her and hiked a large travel bag over one shoulder and her purse over the other.
“Is that it?” I asked in surprise.
“I travel light,” she growled, her anger still burning high.
“Watch the sarcasm,” I said, taking the larger bag from her shoulder, along with the suitcase. As she went to argue, I added, “Grab Adair.”
I didn’t stay to listen to her grumbling, choosing to stalk through the house and past the collapsed door as Jax jumped out of the four-door truck.
“I never knew pink looked so good on you.” He chuckled, gesturing at the pink suitcase. “Come into your inner feminism?”
I grunted, throwing the suitcase into the back of the truck.
He was about to say something else when he looked up, his eyes almost popping out his head. “Holy shit, if I knew you were hunting down such a nice piece of ass, Hunter, I would have joined you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped, shoving the back gate closed.
Jax shrugged, exposing his myriad of tattoos. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” He slapped my shoulder with a grin then looked back over his shoulder. “So, you gonna let me ride her?”
I raised my fist, ready to knock the teeth right out of his skull, but Jax ducked out of reach.
“I meant your Harley.” He laughed, knowing damn well he said it that way on purpose.
“You’re the only one who can get away with that shit, you dick,” I growled, digging my keys out of my pocket and tossing them at him.
He snatched them out of the air, looking at my beautifully inked bike parked in the driveway.
“You dare get a scratch on my bike, I’ll take yours apart.”
“No worries, bro.” He started making his way toward the bike. “I’ll see you back at the compound, yeah?”
“Yeah. Thanks for the truck.” I didn’t take
my eyes off him as he swung his leg over her body. His size, though a little smaller than mine, fit snuggly on her seat.
He put his unruly black hair into the helmet, started up the engine, and then pulled out of the driveway. The beast roared as she tore down the tarmac and out of sight.
I turned back toward the truck to see Mallory standing on the truck’s running board; her round, perky ass swaying as she leaned into the cab. I stood there for a minute, admiring the shape of her ass, thinking how, if it was any other woman, I would have told her to park it on my lap already. But she wasn’t any other woman. I knew the kind of woman she was, and the fact I was already checking out her ass pissed me the hell off.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
After a few moments of ignorance, she pulled back out of the cab and stepped down off the running board before turning to face me. “Strapping Adair into the car seat.”
She then smiled as she leaned back toward the truck as I stepped forward, watching as she placed a small kiss on Adair’s cheek. His green eyes wrinkled in a smile.
“Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “We’re going home.”
“Home?” Adair repeated, eyes curious.
“Yeah.” The resignation in her voice was crystal clear. “Home.”
With a final brush of his cheek, she stepped back and closed the door. Then she looked back at me, the deep mothering brown seeming cold and sad.
“I’ll go back with you on one condition.”
“Condition or not, babe, you don’t have a choice,” I told her, stepping toward her until only a few feet separated us.
“Then a favor,” she pleaded.
I narrowed my eyes with a raised brow.
She looked back at the truck through the tinted window. Then, as if it spurred her resolve, she looked back at me with determined eyes. “Don’t let anyone know who Adair’s father is.”
“Like fuck,” I growled. No way in hell was I denying my brother his only legacy.
“Please. I don’t want anyone knowing.”
“You’d rather I lie to all my brothers and tell them what? That this is just some kid I picked up?”
“No,” she said, looking back and forth up the street as if to inspire her with an idea. Then she looked back at me, her eyes locking onto mine. When they softened, I recognized the look.
“No,” I said before she could open her mouth.
“But you have the same eyes!” she pressed.
“I’m not claiming him as mine. I won’t take that away from Noble.”
“Please.” Her voice was growing more desperate as she stepped into my space. “It’s not forever … I just … I want to protect him.”
“And lying about his dead father will put him danger?”
“I—”
“No.”
“I’ll run,” she promised. “I’ll run every chance I get unless you do this for me. For Adair.”
I gazed into her eyes, and God be damned if I didn’t see the absolute truth in them. I could say I would keep her locked up, not letting her out of my sight, but I also knew I couldn’t do that to Adair. He was my nephew, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t take him away from his mother. Every kid needed a mother, and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, the tenants I had tracked down had told me Mallory was a damn good mother, despite her terrible life choices.
I clamped my hands down at my sides, sure the horrible taste in my mouth was acid when I spat the single word I would probably regret. “Fine.”
I could see relief flood her eyes, but I wouldn’t let her live in it for long.
“Only until I find out what it is you’re fuckin’ hiding from me,” I growled, stepping into her space, watching her eyes jump up to mine in panic. She was so close I could feel her nipples grazing my chest, and as much as I would have been interested, I was too pissed to care. “You ran for a reason. And I will find out what it is. You hear me?”
She swallowed. “Yeah, I hear you.”
She breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of her space and stormed around the truck, swinging the door open. I jumped in, turning the keys in the ignition and firing the truck to life.
Mallory slowly got into the truck, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“Seatbelt,” I snapped.
She flinched, jerking around to fumble the clip into the lock. After a third failed attempt at getting the damn thing in, I grabbed it from her and pushed it in until it clicked.
“Thanks,” she whispered, pressed as close to the door as she could get.
Putting the truck into drive and getting the hell away from this neighborhood, not looking at her as I turned onto the interstate heading home, I said, “By the way, the name’s Hunter.”
Chapter Two
Mallory
As I watched the grass banks of the interstate disappear behind us, I felt as if my heart was disappearing along with it. I looked at Adair sleeping in the car seat that had been installed in the back.
I didn’t have a car. I couldn’t afford one after mine broke at the Denver border. It was a problem I would have had to face if I had stuck to my plans to carry on into Omaha. Looked like that problem was out the window, along with my mind.
Going back to Fellpeak? Staying with Hunter, who said nothing the entire journey? Lying about him being Adair’s father? It was ridiculous. And stupid. Even so, there was no way I could let Adair go into child protective services at the cost of fighting Hunter.
It was true that choosing that house had been the last resort when my car had given up. And I had to put Adair in that daycare to work. It was that or the streets, and there was no way I would let my baby starve.
Adair gurgled, catching my attention. I couldn’t stop the smile pulling on my lips. He was a smaller replica of his father. I had to admit I felt a little lonesome, struggling to see my features in his face; but seeing the amount of Noble in him, I had no doubt he would grow up to be just like him: kind, generous, and beautiful inside and out.
Even if our last moments were bitter, I couldn’t find a bone in my body to hate the man who had given me a child. And as time went by, I found myself loving him more each time I looked at my son’s face and saw him smile.
I had never had affiliation with the club, except talking to a few of them once or twice at the bars and clubs. Therefore, I had never met Hunter. Hell, I hadn’t even known Noble had a brother. If it wasn’t for the eyes, the same gentle green eyes I had fallen in love with, I wouldn’t have seen a resemblance between them, even if they had stood side by side.
Hunter wasn’t as broad as Noble, but he was still huge with more toned muscles and height. Hunter had darker hair and flatter cheekbones. I wondered if Hunter was the younger or older brother.
I found myself staring at him, the massive man who came charging into my house like a bull and dragging me out the same way. He consumed the small space of the truck with only his presence. He wasn’t beautiful in the same surfer, easy-going way Noble had been. He was darker, broodier, good for one-night stands and rough, hot sex. Noble had been a lover; Hunter was a fucker. They were day and night.
His gaze flickered to mine, and I jerked my face away as fast as I could. After making it my mission to avoid him for the last fifteen hours of our journey, to be caught staring at him would mean mission failure.
I turned back toward the window, wondering if I could wind it down enough to grab Adair and make a successful leap from the truck. For an escape plan, it was the most reasonable I had yet. After looking for an eject button for a good hour and wondering if I could saw through the bottom of the floor with my nail file without him noticing, I was running out of ideas.
I heard Adair gurgling again then chuckled when I heard him laugh in his sleep.
“He looks just like Noble,” Hunter said out of the blue, startling me.
I fought the urge to look at him, pretending to look bored and resigned, and not like I was making an escape plan that consisted of a pencil, toot
hpaste, and whatever else I had in the contents of my purse.
My thought process continued until it looped back to what Hunter had said. I looked over my shoulder at Adair’s soft, little blond wisps of hair curled around his face, his chubby cheeks wobbling with the vibration of the truck. Even with drool hanging down the side of his face, he was a beautiful baby. I could only imagine I was feeling the same awe that Hunter and Noble’s parents must have felt when Noble was born. To think he turned out to be such a huge guy.
I tracked my gaze back to Hunter with the amusing thought of what he would have been like as a baby. Don’t get me wrong; I came to hate the guy in the few hours I had known him, but if Noble had been so damn cute, I could only imagine Hunter had been cute, too. Too bad he had grown up. How on earth two kids, probably close in age, ended up so different was a mystery. The eighth wonder of the world.
“You’re gonna burn a hole in my head,” Hunter said, startling me again.
This time, I forgot to look away and instead met his eyes when he looked at me. The green of his eyes cut through me like a knife and, for a moment, I forgot I wasn’t talking to him.
“How old are you?”
He looked at me like I was a lunatic, not that I wasn’t used to the look, but still.
Hunter turned back to the road. “Thirty-six,” he answered, much to my surprise.
Noble would have been thirty-eight this year. Hunter seemed more like the big brother type than Noble ever did. In fact, Noble was more like a wise kid with a man’s body, not that I didn’t like that. There was something about Hunter that made him seem all male. Maybe the brooding coupled with too many romance novels.
I shook the thought away as another came to me. “How did you find out about Adair?” Since we had broken the ice with my awkwardness, I figured it was time for a few questions of my own.
Hunter’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, the leather creaking under his grip. The muscle in his jaw ticked as he refused to look at me. I figured he wouldn’t answer, but then he opened his mouth.
“When I first began tracking you down, a contact told me you stopped in a free clinic with a one-year-old son.” The speed of the truck increased ever so slightly as he pulled into the faster lane. “Thought you’d gone and gotten married or something; had a kid with someone else. Didn’t figure he was Noble’s until, one day, I mentioned the name by accident to this girl. She was a gynecologist or some shi—” He paused and looked up into the rearview mirror at Adair before correcting himself, “Thing. Told me the name was English. That it meant noble.”