Nothing Else Matters (Demons Disciples MC Book 2)

by Allana Walker

  “I never have, nor will I ever sleep with another woman while I’m with you. Even if I’m not with you, I will never lay a finger on any other woman.” I kneel in front of her, hesitant to take her hand in mine. I look her in the eye. “I love you, Daria. You’re it for me. If I have to fight to the death for you like a gladiator, I will.” Putting my head on her hand, I continue, not caring how weak I sound. This is my truth, and she deserves the truth. “I’m petrified that all the shit that comes with this life will drive you away, and I’ll never see you or Emily again. I’m too selfish to let either of you go without a fight. But, at the same time, if you want to leave here and never see me again, I will let you go. Just please, please know that I love you, and I will always love you and Emily.”

  I stand and head for the door, about to knock and tell them to open up, when Daria speaks.

  “You accused me of sleeping with Jake.” Her voice is small. “Jake’s gay, Striker.”

  “I know that now. I’m sorry about the whole Jake thing, and the way I acted after. That was unforgivable. Of all the things that scare the shit out of me, it's losing you because of something this club or I did.” I look down, my head against the door. “I can't bury another woman I love.” I feel her hand on my back. Turning to look at her, a tear falls, only to be caught by Daria's thumb as her hand cradles my face. “That's the crux of it all, Dee. I push you away because I don't want to lose you. I lost you anyway.”

  “You haven't lost me, Striker.” She sniffles, lifting my head. Her eyes are filled with tears. “You never did. I'm just sick of you trying to control me. I hated my stepmom for controlling my life. I don't want to hate you too.”

  “I'm sorry. Can we get past this?”

  “All the stuff you have just told me… I’ll need time to process it. But I think we can get past anything if we put our minds to it.”

  I lean in, our lips almost touching. I let her take the lead. Our lips connect, and it feels like the Fourth of July and New Year’s all rolled into one. She pulls back, trying to catch her breath.

  “Striker.” Her hazel eyes look up at me. “If we’re going to do this, give us another go, we need to be one hundred percent with each other. All I ask is for you to be patient with me while I sort my own thoughts out. I will get jealous of all the girls that wander around here naked, trying to get you to sleep with them.”

  “Same. I can’t bear thinking another guy has been in what's mine.” I lean my forehead against hers and curse myself. “Sorry. Habit.”

  “I love the domineering side, Striker. Don't ever stop doing that. Just, please. Give us time to get to know one another again. Take things slowly. Give me time to process all this information.”

  “We’ll go as fast or as slow as you want.” I kiss her nose.

  This is my world right here in my arms right now.

  I’m never letting her go.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Daria

  Striker kissing me again feels like heaven, and everything becomes right in the world again. My heart fills with so much happiness, along with sadness at how lost he truly was after his mom died.

  Framing his face with my hands, I look deep into his blue eyes. “I love you so damn much, Striker. These past however many weeks have been Hell on Earth.”

  “I know, baby. We better let them know we haven’t killed each other.” He sighs, kissing my nose.

  “I don’t want to leave our little bubble.”

  “We can make our little bubble back home.” He chuckles, kissing my neck.

  “I’m staying at Dad’s right now.” I gasp when he hits the sweet spot on my neck.

  “You’ll just have to sneak me in,” he whispers against my neck, his hot breath causing tingles down my spine.

  “Like you’re my dirty little secret?”

  “Mmmhmm.” I gasp when he grazes his teeth against my shoulder, his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. My hands go to his chest, and I push him a little to stop him already regretting my request to go slow. He looks down at me with hooded blues. “What?”

  “I love you.”

  His head dips down, kissing my forehead. “I love you too, baby. Come on. Let’s put them out of their misery.”

  I need to get Nico back for locking me in a room. I’ve always hated confined spaces ever since I got trapped in the art cupboard in school. The door slammed closed, and it was one of those doors that locks as soon as it closes and can only open with a key. I panicked and started pounding on the door. By the time someone opened it, I was a crying mess. I’ve been scared of enclosed spaces ever since.

  I shake my head when Striker calls my name.

  “Huh?”

  “You okay? You checked out.” Striker’s thumb traces my cheekbone, looking in my eyes with a deep frown.

  “Just thinking of how to mess with Nico for this little stunt.”

  “Babe, it’s not completely his fault.” He lets out a laugh.

  “Yeah, I know. But it’s my duty as a little sister to mess with him, right?” I bat my eyes up at him, innocently biting my lip.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I have an idea.” My eyes sparkle with mischief as I tell him my plan.

  I march up to the door and pound my fist against the solid mahogany. “Nico. Nico, open the fucking door. This is useless. We’re never going to resolve anything as long as he keeps fucking other women!” I yell, then smile at Striker, who’s leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, raising his eyebrow while chuckling. Nothing. “Nico, do you want me to kill your best friend, ‘cause that’s what I’ll do. I have his knife in my hand right now. It’s either him or me that’s coming out of here alive.”

  I know for sure that, hearing me swearing, he’ll know how serious I am because I usually only cuss when I’m pissed or when I’m being pounded by the man behind me. Hearing the click of the door opening, I storm out, barging past a panicked-looking Nico.

  “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” I snap at Nico. His head flinches back at my ferociousness and then I storm passed Barron, giving him an equally hard look. I feel bad for playing this trick on them, but I have to say, it’s fun watching these two big guys squirm.

  “There you go again, running without listening to anything I have to fucking say!” Striker bellows, rushing out behind me.

  “You know what? You can fuck as many whores as you like, Striker, but not one of them will fuck you as good as me.” I walk toward the door, not looking back at him.

  “Oh, yeah? Well, good luck finding a dick as big or as good as mine.”

  “Why do you think I have a vibrator? You can’t keep me satisfied, so I need to finish myself off!”

  The whole club is now standing watching this little show we’re putting on for them.

  “Well, maybe if you weren’t such a nagging bitch, I wouldn’t have to go out and find another whore.” He’s now in front of me, and I can feel my temperature rising. I’m so fucking hot for him right now; I don’t care who watches.

  “You’re such an egotistical, stubborn, self-absorbed asshole.”

  “Yeah? And you’re nothing but a spoilt little girl who wants everyone to feel sorry for her. Poor little Daria, growing up in a big mansion, wanting for nothing. Life must have been so fucking hard. Let’s all feel sorry for her. Newsflash, little girl. The world doesn’t revolve around your spoiled ass.”

  I stare at him for what feels forever, then he takes a step forward and lifts his hand to my neck.

  “Striker, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Nico rushes up to us, ready to take Striker down. Striker’s grip on my neck tightens, but not too tight that I can’t breathe, and he pulls me in for a kiss.

  My God, this the hottest kiss I have ever had in my entire life.

  “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too.”

  “You guys are jerks,” Nico huffs. I look around Striker to see Nico behind him with his arms folded acr
oss his chest, his hazel eyes that match mine narrowed and mouth set into a flat line.

  “After what you just pulled, locking us in a room?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Don’t ever do that again, Nico. I don’t like confined spaces.”

  “I’m sorry. That was the only way we thought we could get you both talking again.” Nico looks at me sheepishly. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  I look up at Striker; my heart flutters and I smile. “Yeah, it did.”

  “Thank God for that.” Barron sighs. I laugh.

  “I need to get going. I’ve got a meeting with Jake about the house sale.” I bite my lip, looking up at Striker. “Come over later?”

  “Will your dad be there?”

  “If you want to spend time with my dad, I’m sure I can arrange it.”

  “No. I don’t want the stink eye he gives me every time he sees me.”

  “He and Lauren are out of town for a couple of nights, and Emily is at her friend, Ben’s house.” The vein on his forehead pulses at the mention of Emily staying over at a boy’s house. “Emily is ten, Striker.”

  “Doesn’t make me less pissed.”

  “I guess I’ll walk about the house naked by myself then.” I step back, about to walk away, when he catches my wrist.

  “I’ll be there at seven,” he whispers in my ear and nibbles the shell, causing a shiver down my spine.

  I walk away with the first genuine smile on my face in Lord knows how many weeks. I curse myself for not just hearing him out when he first came round, but it was all still too raw for me to listen to reason. After everything he just told me, I’m emotionally spent and could really do with a nap, but I have to sign some documents for the selling of my house, then I can go home and have a sleep before Striker comes by.

  But you haven’t told him all your truths yet, have you, Daria?

  ***

  After our talk last week, we came back to Dad’s, where Emily and I have been staying since we moved out and sold the house. Emily is still pissed at me over it, but I know she’ll love the new house I put an offer on three weeks ago.

  Striker and I have been making out like randy teenagers while my parents have been out at a benefit. Emily wanted to go too, to see what the fuss was about. She loved getting all dressed up and was excited to be spending the evening with Grandpa and Grandma.

  “Do you... uh...um,” I fumble over my words with my hand on Striker's chest above his heart, my body half on him. I’m flustered because I've never asked a boy to stay over before. Should I ask my dad's permission? It's his house, after all. If I do, he'll probably say no because it's Striker.

  “What?” Striker raises his eyebrow, kissing my neck. My eyes roll back, and I gasp.

  “Shit.” I push away from him. I can't think straight when he's this close. “Do you want to stay over?”

  “My, my, Miss Denver.” He moves away from my neck, grinning like a fool as his fingertips run up and down my spine. “What would Daddy say if he knew you were asking a hooligan like me to stay over at his house?”

  I roll my eyes. “I like having you as my dirty little secret.” I pull my lip between my teeth as my fingers make steps up his chest until I'm nose to nose with him.

  “Dirty secret, huh?” His hand slides down my spine to my ass, squeezing it.

  “Yup. I mean, the ex-mayor's daughter being seen with a ruffian like you. What would the press say, and all the stuck-up assholes who will shun him from future parties. God forbid his daughter be seen happy and in love.” I press further into his body, kissing him lightly on the mouth.

  “I love you.”

  “Yeah, I have that effect on men. They can't resist me.”

  He squints. “Talking of men who love you…”

  “Striker...” I push off him with a groan. This is the last thing I want to talk about. I chew the inside of my cheek, and my mouth dries because I know who he’s talking about.

  “No, let me talk. I need to get this off my chest. We said no lies and no secrets, remember?”

  “Fine.” I flop back on the sofa, picking at the cuticles of my fingers, waiting on the questions.

  “The rehearsal dinner.” My eyes cast down. I can’t look at him because I know what's coming. “You and Austin. Was there something going on?”

  I peer up, risking a look at him. He squeezes his eyes closed, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. “We slept together when I was sixteen.”

  “I saw you both at rehearsal dinner, Daria. And I saw the picture of you both in your keepsake box when we searched the house when thought someone was in the old house.”

  “Striker.” I grab his hand, linking his fingers with mine.

  “Did you sleep with him when he took you home?”

  “No. He took me up to bed, and I passed out and woke up still in my dress from the night before. Austin stayed over on the sofa to make sure I was okay. He had a cup of coffee in the morning and left.” I swallow. “As for that picture, it was from years ago at a family party. An innocent photo.”

  “I saw you at the wedding. I was coming to try to talk to you. You kissed him.”

  “I didn't. He kissed me. As soon as his lips touched mine, I pushed him away, and I told him he was thirteen years too late.” I turn my body toward him further. “I love you. It's always been you, Striker. It will always be you.” He stays silent, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking right now. My shoulders slump in defeat. “Striker, can we please forget the past? I just want to focus on the here and now and concentrate on getting us back on track.” I wait on him answering me, but I can tell he’s not going to with the distant look on his face. My eyes close, wishing the tears would go away. When I open them again, he’s still looking ahead. I stand with a heavy sigh. He finally looks at me. “I'm going to bed. Are you staying over or you going home?”

  He considers my question before standing in front of me, caging my face in his hands then dipping his head to peck me on the lips. “I’m staying.”

  We walk wordlessly up to my childhood room; it looks exactly the same as it did when I left eleven years ago. I honestly thought Denise would have thrown all my stuff in the trash, putting in a sunbed and some other bullshit beauty stuff she was into that week. Dad told me about the night after he left me, the night Emily was born. He slept in my room. Denise called him weak and said she would have dragged me out by the hair, locked me up until I gave birth, and ripped the brat from my arms to give to that lady. I still haven’t told anyone what her letter said, and if I’m honest, I don’t believe a word of it.

  Striker inspects my bedroom with his hands in his pockets. He smirks a little when he notices something on my desk. He picks up the photo of Jess and me when we were ten. “I can see a lot of Emily in this picture.”

  “She the mirror image of you, Striker. She looks nothing like me.” I sit on my bed, wondering if our new baby will look like me.

  “She has your smarts.” He places the frame back down and walks over to where my trophies and medals for gymnastics and dance recitals are.

  “Striker?” He tears his eyes away from an article pinned on my wall to focus on me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are we okay, after what we just spoke about?”

  He walks over and sits beside me, taking my hand in his. “Yeah, we're good, baby.”

  I can’t stop staring at him. He plants a kiss on my lips. Before I can speak, he takes his shirt off and lays me down, his hand making its way down to my jeans. My heart starts to beat harder thinking about what he told me last week, and how many people were killed because of his feelings for me. As much as I want to have sex with him, I can’t. I still need time to process what he told me and deal with my own issues. I place my hand on top of his.

  “Stop,” I breathe out. He lifts his head, his eyes searching mine. “I can’t. I’m not ready yet.”

  “Okay. We’ll go at your speed, babe.” He nods, giving me a peck on the lips.

  “I’m sorry.”

 
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Daria. I understand you don’t want to rush this again. Plus, all the things I told you last week. I get it.”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  “I’m going to freshen up and get changed.” I stand to walk to my en-suite bathroom and bend to pick up Striker’s shirt he just threw off with a smile.

  I hear a low groan come from him. He’s already in bed when I return. “Why are you growling like an animal?”

  “Really?” His eyes travel up and down my body appreciatively. “You’re making it really hard for me to not pin you to this bed and fuck the shit out of you.” My face flushes with heat, and my eyes widen with shock. I look down at what I’m wearing; his Kiss t-shirt, which is five times too big for me, and my panties. I bat my eyes at him. “The innocent look doesn’t suit you, baby. I’ve seen your wild side.”

  “You ain’t seen full wild Daria.” I wink, climbing into bed. I snuggle into the crook of his arm, placing my head on his chest right above his heart.

  “When do I get to meet her?” His fingers dance lightly up and down my spine.

  “She only comes out to play for good guys.” I giggle. “She turns good men bad. Unfortunately, it’s way too late for you. You’re already bad.”

  He snorts out a laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “Goodnight, Striker.” I gaze up at him. He pecks my lips.

  “Night, baby.”

  I fall asleep in his arms to the lullaby of his heartbeat with a smile on my face.

  There's nowhere I'd rather be than in his arms.

  ***

  “Morning, pumpkin.” I jump when I hear Dad’s voice. I woke up early with a wave of nausea and I sneaked out of bed. Striker looked peaceful, like it was the first decent night’s sleep he’s had for weeks.

  “Shit, Dad.” I clutch my heart, turning to see him chuckling into his coffee. “You gave me the fright of my life.”

  “How’s Striker?” He raises his eyebrow at me and my face flames. “He still asleep?”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I know I should have asked you, but I just needed to have him close to me.”