Unattainable

by Madeline Sheehan

  “Hey,” he called out. Dirty stopped as Ellie kept walking.

  He gave Dirty an inquisitive look. “What’s up?”

  The man shook his head. “It’s her mom, brother,” he said. “It ain’t good.”

  Cage nodded as he studied Dirty. “You need anything, dude?”

  Dirty shook his head again. “Just her,” he said quietly and turned away.

  Cage watched as he doubled his pace, catching quickly up to Ellie. Dirty’s arm shot out and hooked around her waist, and together they turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

  “I hate that you fucked her,” Tegen snarled.

  “Once!” he yelled. “Years ago! I barely even remember it!”

  “Whatever,” Tegen muttered. “Is it just me or are they are so fucking weird together? I mean, how in the hell did Ellie end up with Dirty?”

  Cage laughed quietly. “Right. ’Cause this right here,” he said, pointing between the two of them, “is real motherfuckin’ normal.”

  Tegen crossed her arms under her breasts, causing his eyes to shoot straight to the small amount of cleavage that popped up over the edge of her tank top. He loved that she was gaining weight. Fucking loved it.

  “There isn’t anything wrong with us,” she said.

  He snorted. “Yeah, okay,” he said, laughing, still staring at her tits. He was so fucking horny. It had been over a year since he’d last been inside of her and he was aching for it. The fact that he couldn’t hold a damn erection because he was too busy being half out of his mind wishing he was high was pissing him off, more than the fact that he’d let his life fall so far down the shitter not even a drain snake could give him a helping hand.

  It was official—he was the biker brat equivalent to a spoiled rich kid who’d thrown his life away…just because. And he hated himself for it.

  If Tegen weren’t here… Jesus, fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if she hadn’t come back.

  “I wanna fuck you so bad,” he said, reaching for her. She sidestepped him and the next thing he knew she was slapping her palms against his shoulders and shoving him backward.

  “Go talk to your father,” she said firmly. “Right now.”

  “Will you blow me afterward?” he asked, grinning at the elderly couple that was passing by them, their eyes wide with surprise.

  “Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But only if you promise to come all over my tits like a good little boy.”

  The elderly man stopped walking and gaped at Tegen, who subsequently winked at him. Literally choking on her shock, the man’s wife grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the far elevator.

  Laughing like a maniac, Tegen continued shoving him backward down the hallway and he let her, relishing in the smile on her face, just thanking God that she was here, with him, and…fuck him, she was happy.

  “Ready?” she asked, stopping in front of a room he guessed was his father’s.

  “No.”

  Shaking her head, Tegen pushed open the door and walked inside. Sighing, his stomach nothing but a bundle of nerves, he followed her in and stopped when he saw his father. Lying in a hospital bed, dressed in a goddamn hospital gown, hooked up to machines and IVs, his long blond and gray hair splayed out over the pillow behind his head, was Deuce. Cage just stared. He’d never seen his father in such a vulnerable state. Not that the man looked weak by any means, just the opposite actually. He looked like he was too damn big for the bed, and if he pulled too hard on any of the equipment he was hooked up to, he’d break it instantly.

  Deuce glanced from him to Tegen and back to him. Cage watched as his father took in his appearance. A look of relief crossed the man’s features.

  “How long?” he asked.

  “Since the last time he fucked up?” Tegen asked and Cage’s eyes shot to her. She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip out. “Three days. Three very long, very horrible days.”

  “Fuck you!” Cage spat. “Was tellin’ him that really fuckin’ necessary?”

  She shrugged indifferently. “Yes.”

  Cage’s nostrils flared and his fists clenched but before he could come back at her, his father burst out laughing. Deep, body-shaking laughs wracked the man’s body and Cage just stood there and stared. Who the fuck was this guy? Sure as fuck wasn’t his old man.

  “Tegen,” Deuce said, trying to catch his breath. “You give us a minute, darlin’?”

  Cage watched in horror as the word “darlin’” fell out of his old man’s mouth and Tegen’s face lit up like a goddamn firecracker.

  “Sure,” she said, smiling, all adorable and shit at Deuce. What the fuck? What the motherfuck? He’d seen it before, his old man putting on the charm and thongs falling off pussies all around the world. But…Tegen?

  She hated Deuce. She thought Deuce was an arrogant, pigheaded, sexist Neanderthal!

  And she was his fucking woman!

  Cage glared at her as she practically skipped from the room, still smiling. He turned his glare back to his father. “Don’t ever call her that again,” he demanded angrily.

  Deuce held his hands up. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, fighting a smile.

  Cage wasn’t satisfied. “She’s mine,” he said.

  Deuce’s brow hit his hairline. “Jesus, fuck,” he said. “I don’t fuckin’ want her. What kind of crazy shit you thinkin’?”

  “Nothin’,” Cage muttered.

  Deuce narrowed his eyes, then shook his head. Gesturing to a seat near his hospital bed, he said, “Sit the fuck down.”

  Cage gritted through the anger he felt at being treated like a dog and instead of exploding like he wanted to, did as he was told.

  Deuce eyed him knowingly. “Shoulda listened to that old bastard,” he muttered. “Blue said, when you couldn’t have been no more than two years old, that you were just like me. He said you were gonna be throwin’ a whole lotta bullshit my way, told me I was gonna have a handful with you. And instead of listenin’, I told myself you had everything you could fuckin’ want and what you didn’t have I’d make sure and get for you, so ain’t no way you were goin’ to be gettin’ yourself into nearly as much trouble as I did. Told myself a whole lotta bullshit, I guess, ’cause in the end you weren’t just as dumb as I was, you were a whole lot fuckin’ dumber.”

  Cage’s nostrils flared wildly as he fought to keep himself from throwing a punch, his anger only increasing when Deuce grinned at him.

  “You gonna hit a sick old man?”

  When Cage said nothing, Deuce’s grin grew. “Listen up, boy,” he said. “I’m man enough to admit when I fucked shit up and I sure fucked up with you. Thought by givin’ you everything I had, I was givin’ you everything I never had.”

  Deuce shook his head and laughed softly to himself. “Straight-up bullshit. Shoulda let you figure your shit out on your own, shoulda let you fall the fuck down and pick yourself back up, shoulda let you make your own goddamn mistakes instead of takin’ care of everything for you behind your back, and I shoulda let you hop on that crazy bus with that crazy little red-haired shit. I know it now and I’m tellin’ you I’m fuckin’ sorry for fuckin’ with your life. Thought I was doin’ what was right, thought I was bein’ the way an old man should be, and it turns out I was just doin’ what I do best and fuckin’ everything up.”

  Surprised, Cage blinked at his father. What?

  “Listen to me carefully,” Deuce continued. “All my bullshit—my family, my club, my boys—it’s always been yours. You’re my oldest son, my motherfuckin’ legacy. You’ve got my love, my goddamn name, you got my colors on your back, you’ve got first fuckin’ dibs on everything I’ve ever had. You want to throw it all way, pass it the fuck on, live a different sorta life, you do what you gotta do, but it’s always been yours, Cage, whether you wanted it or not, that shit ain’t ever changed.”

  Deuce looked away for a second as shame passed over his face, or was that regret? Then he looked back and held C
age’s gaze head on. “Me doin’ what I did, gettin’ between you and Tegen, I was doin’ what I thought was best for you. Didn’t think she could cut it, bein’ the old lady to a club prez. This job of mine, the job I’ll be passin’ down to you soon enough, you can’t be havin’ a woman breathin’ down your neck all damn day, wantin’ out of the life, hatin’ the club. You gotta have your damn head in the game and your woman at home, fuckin’ waitin’ on you, ready to take that bad fuckin’ day, bad month, bad fuckin’ year you’ve had, and let you bury that shit between her damn thighs without giving you shit about it. And all I saw from Tegen was her givin’ you, givin’ the club, nothin’ but shit. I was lookin’ out for you but it fuckin’ backfired and for that, I’m damn sorry.”

  Cage swallowed hard. Now, what the fuck did he say to that?

  “Had a long talk with that woman of yours,” Deuce said, smiling again. “She’s ready. She’s gotta good head on her shoulders, she knows the ins and outs of the club, and she loves the boys. Most importantly, though, she fuckin’ loves your dumb ass.”

  Hearing that, Cage smiled and Deuce snorted.

  “Yeah, she’s fuckin’ ready and I ain’t goin’ to be buttin’ in where I don’t fuckin’ belong no more.”

  Cage raised an eyebrow; he didn’t believe that line of bullshit for a second.

  “Listen up,” Deuce said. “I’m about ready to turn the game on, so if you got somethin’ to say, you need to get some shit off your chest and tell me what a fuckin’ asshole I am, then you better get to it or I’m kickin’ you the fuck outta here.”

  Grabbing the arms of the chair, Cage pushed himself into a standing position. “I ain’t got shit to say,” he said quietly. He didn’t; his old man had surprised him and for the first time in his life, Cage didn’t have a damn thing to say back.

  “I’m proud of you,” Deuce said. “You should know that. You’re a good man and I know once you get your shit straightened out, you’re gonna be just fine runnin’ the club.”

  The two men stared at each other until Cage broke the silence. “Yeah,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Deuce waved him off. “Get the fuck outta here.”

  Rolling his eyes, Cage turned to leave.

  “One last thing.”

  Cage turned around.

  “Don’t let that one catch you stickin’ your shit where it don’t belong. She’s damn crazy and she’ll fuckin’ shoot your ass.”

  Cage blew out a noisy, amused breath. “Don’t fuckin’ worry about that. I ain’t you.”

  “In that case,” Deuce shot back. “Best stake out that territory right the fuck now instead of waitin’ like I did. Worst fuckin’ mistake I ever made.”

  • • •

  Deuce’s loud laughter followed Cage into the hallway where I was waiting for him. I took the silly smile on his face as a good sign. Despite how sick he’d been, he looked better than he had in days.

  “Good talk?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond, just continued to advance on me until we were nose to nose.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Uh, not a good talk?”

  “Marry me,” he said quietly.

  Two words. Two stupid words and my stomach burst into a thousand butterflies, retarded butterflies who didn’t have a clue where they were going and were bumping into one another like drunken bumper car drivers.

  “No!” I shouted, and was about to shove him off me when he caught my wrists and quickly backed me up against the wall.

  “Marry me,” he repeated.

  “Hell no,” I said firmly, sounding a lot calmer than I felt.

  “Gimme one good reason why the fuck not?” he demanded.

  I stared up at him, my heart pounding, feeling like at any moment it was going to pound its way straight out of my chest and fall to the floor where it would flop around like a dying fish.

  “’Cause the way I’m seein’ it is unless you plan on runnin’ away again or gettin’ with some other asshole, you’re mine and I’m about ready to let the whole damn world know it.”

  My already clammy body broke out in a cold sweat.

  “You gonna run again, Tegen?”

  I shook my head.

  “My dick enough for you?”

  I nodded.

  He glared at me. “Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?”

  What was the problem? What was the fucking problem, exactly? I wracked my brain searching for the problem and came up empty.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  His lips split into a smile and dimples popped out everywhere. I lost what little breath I had left inside my lungs. “Teacup,” he whispered. “If you ain’t got a problem, then fuckin’ marry me.”

  That’s when I realized what my problem was.

  I didn’t have a problem. Not a single one.

  Standing here in front of me was the one and only man I’d ever loved, loving me back, asking me to marry him. To spend the rest of my life with him and only him, because he loved me just that fucking much, so fucking much he wanted me to be his wife.

  My eyes filled. That was my problem. I didn’t have one. I’d spent my entire life surrounded by problems, wishing and aching for things I knew would never happen.

  But they had. And now my poor mind didn’t know what to do with itself.

  Blinking caused tears to spill over and run down my cheeks and then Cage was there kissing them away almost as fast as I was producing them.

  “Marry me,” he said, pressing his lips, wet with my tears, against my mouth.

  My mouth opened and Cage’s tongue took advantage and shot inside.

  “Marry me,” he mumbled as he kissed me, refusing to let me answer, kissing me harder each time I tried to pull away from him. “Marry me, Teacup.”

  “Okay,” I said breathlessly, threading my fingers through his hair as I kissed him back with equal ferociousness.

  Cage went still and with my head in his hands, pushed me away from him.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I said, pulling him back to me. “But I don’t want a big stupid ring like Danny’s.”

  “Shut up,” he muttered.

  “No, I’m serious, Cage. I don’t—”

  Cage’s mouth crashed down again on mine and I didn’t have much of a choice.

  I shut right the fuck up.

  EPILOGUE

  “Family dinners give me a headache,” I complained.

  Ignoring me, Cage held his hand out. With an exasperated sigh, I handed him my helmet and he placed it on the seat of his bike.

  “Don’t ignore me,” I warned. “I hate it and I’ll punch you in the balls if you keep it up, you know I will.”

  Grinning, Cage grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “I’m not ignorin’ you, Teacup,” he said as he pulled me up the driveway. “I’m just choosin’ not to fight today.”

  The front door swung open just as Cage reached for it and Cox stood in the entranceway grinning at us.

  “What are you so fuckin’ happy about?” Cage asked, shoving him out of our way and yanking me inside.

  “Fuckin’ blow jobs, brother,” Cox said, still grinning like a jackass. “Kami just blew my damn brains out in the hall closet.”

  I rolled my eyes even as Cage burst out laughing. “Explains why you’re so fuckin’ stupid,” Cage said. “Don’t got much brains to begin with.”

  “No fuckin’ way,” Cox called out from behind us. “You ain’t gonna ruin my good mood.”

  “Coming through!”

  Cage and I quickly stepped out of Ivy’s way as she came barreling through the foyer, pushing her little brother on his toddler riding toy. Damon, with his chubby arms in the air and a dimpled smile on his face, squealed as they blasted past us.

  “Ivy Olivia!” Eva yelled, storming after them. “Are you trying to kill your brother?”

  “Yes!” Ivy yelled back.

  Inside the kitchen, Cage let go of me and gave me a gentle shove toward the re
frigerator. “Beer, babe,” he said, slapping my ass before he headed in Ripper and Deuce’s direction.

  Scowling, I stomped off across the linoleum. If I didn’t love him so much, I might actually kill him one of these days. Ours wasn’t a sugar-coated relationship. We fought more than we didn’t, the majority of our sex life consisted of half-out-of-our-mind, angry make-up sex, and we still could never agree on anything. Nothing. Zilch.

  Except for one thing.

  That we drove each other crazy. Yeah, and that we loved each other. There was that.

  He was overbearing, bossy, and demonstrative. He liked to order me around, literally push me around all the while acting like he didn’t see why I got so upset about it.

  But at the same time, he also had to put up with my vicious temper, my manic mood swings, and my tendency to both speak and act before thinking.

  I decided early on I should look into anger management before I even thought of having children. As it was, half the crap in our house was broken because I’d either thrown it at Cage or kicked the living shit out of it.

  But for some reason, unknown to me and more than likely anyone who came within a mile of Cage and me, it worked.

  Or, at least, it had been working for the past seven months. The future remained unknown. I could always head back to my mother’s place in San Francisco. Which I would. Especially if Cage kept demanding I be his beer wench.

  Married or not, Cage did not own me.

  I don’t care if the four letters, C-A-G-E, which had been tattooed around my left ring finger the night he married me, suggested otherwise.

  “It is not the same fuckin’ thing!” Deuce yelled as I crossed the kitchen, holding Cage’s bottle of beer like a baseball I was about to whip at him.

  Cage gaped at his father. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, you motherfuckin’ hypocrite?”

  “Now what?” I asked Ripper who stood a few feet from father and son, smirking.

  “They started goin’ at it ’bout an upcomin’ job and I made the mistake of tellin’ ’em how alike they fuckin’ sounded. Started up a new round of bullshit.”

  Cage’s head whipped left and he glared at Ripper. “I am nothin’ like him.”