Drew had taken the whole thing in his stride, and I’d ridden behind him, my arm’s tight around his waist. He stroked my hand with one of his and steered with the other as we rode. Calm, but stoic because that’s what had been expected of him. When we’d pulled into the cemetery we’d found as far away from Babylon as we could without being suspicious, Drew removed his helmet and gloves, and he led me in without a word.
How the boys didn’t just throw the casket in the hole was beyond me. If anyone noticed that Owen’s box was missing the adornments that Harry’s had, they didn’t say anything. Inside and out there was no reference at all that he’d ever been part of The Hounds, and there never would be. This was one more thing that the ATF and people of Babylon didn’t need to know. It wasn’t like any of them had been there to compare the two.
Autumn and I hadn’t even bothered to have the ceremony overseen by a religious figure. Though Autumn had suggested finding a Satanist to ensure his worthless soul was sent to the right part of Hell where he would suffer for the rest of eternity. I felt it was a waste of money, and Drew had agreed with my assessment. In fact, his response had been that I should spend less time on that fucker’s hole in the ground and more time on our wedding.
We’d talked about our wedding a lot since we’d decided to move ahead with the ceremony. In those moments when it was just he and I, Drew seemed to have an odd sense of peace surrounding him. He was composed, levelheaded, but never complacent. He seemed to understand that this was the calm before the storm but was confident that all the moving parts were doing what needed to be done. Jedd and Eric were back in their roles, but Rubin was nowhere to be seen. Something else Drew didn’t seem too concerned about, as it had been a part of the plan set in motion the night of the fires.
I wasn’t used to seeing this side of Drew. He’d always been relentless and in control of every piece of the machine that was his club. Since he’d come to the conclusion that he was losing control, he was more open to discussing what was happening next and spending extra time in the war room with Eric, Jedd, and Slater to discuss how they needed to proceed. That left Autumn and me free to use his office to plan the wedding.
Which was how I ended up standing in the middle of a bridal shop in Waco.
There was so much white and tulle in one place, it made me anxious. Autumn insisted that we make a day of it, and Deeks was currently in a bar across the street killing time so he didn’t have to be a part of this women shit, as he so gracefully put it. Drew and he had decided that Deeks would take up his role as unofficial bodyguard again until the shitstorm had been dealt with. I was about five seconds away from following Deeks to get a shot when the over-helpful attendant pushed a tall glass of champagne into my hand.
“Oh, thanks, but I can’t...” I didn’t bother finishing. The glass was swept from my hand by Autumn and traded for a simple but stunning white gown. It was an off-the-shoulder dress in what was called a mermaid cut. There were beads, sparkles, and a train that looked like a deathtrap. “What’s this?”
“Cocaine.”
The assistant looked almost shocked by the response and took one step back, attempting to appear busy by organizing some of the dresses Autumn had stacked on a rolling rack for me to try. No two were the same either. She had corsets with full skirts, empire waists, princess, ball gowns, and some with so much tulle it looked it had been made from a cloud.
“You know what I mean.” I snorted.
“None of these are your style.”
“Right.”
“It wasn’t a question,” Autumn said, grinning at me. “I already know what dress I think you should get that will knock Drew off his feet.”
“But…”
“I’m asking you to indulge me. You have a figure that I never had and never will have. You’re getting married, which I never will do or want to do. And you’re the only daughter I will ever come close to having. You see where I’m going with this?”
“You’re seriously going to make me do this?” I whined playfully, holding up the dress and studying it. Autumn already knew I would do anything for her, but when she held her silence, I was forced to glance back at her.
“Not make, sugar. I would never make you do anything, but beg? Blackmail? Guilt into? Abso-freaking-lutely.”
I studied her and let my shoulders sag. There was a part of me that said this could be fun, but that part was tiny and insignificant—the same part that had said goading Owen into bitch slapping me was a fantastic idea. That part of my brain was the den of bad decisions. I eventually conceded anyway.
“Fine. Pick five of your favorites, and then I want to see your serious pick.”
Autumn did a victory spin on the back of her cowboy boots and waved me toward the changing rooms with the champagne glass, while she headed to the cart with a dozen dresses already hanging from it.
I moved to the changing room with the gorgeous but not me mermaid style dress. I stripped out of my jeans and tank with hesitance, looking down at my black lace bra with a rebellious grin. Staring back up at the dress, though, and that sense of victory quickly died. This was going to be a long afternoon.
Five dresses and two hours later, Autumn seemed nowhere near ready to give up on her escapades. I, however, was exhausted. Wedding dresses were not light. You had to be a contortionist to get into some of them, lacing, buttoning, or hooking your way into the confines of them was nothing less than a full on pain in the ass. The corseted princess dress, with thousands of blinking beads and a fuller-than-full skirt, was my last indulgent dress. Though I admittedly felt pretty and looked the part of a bride, I was ready for the torture to be over.
“Wait. Tiara and heels to finish the look. Get up on the little stage with the mirrors.” I hesitated and glared pitifully at Autumn. “What? We have to do pictures of this one, too.”
She’d thrown veils, heels and every other bridal accessory imaginable with every dress before sending me to a small raised dais in the middle of a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree mirrored room. Then, she’d taken pictures.
Seeing that much of myself was not good for the ego.
“My God. Are you doing this to bribe me later in life?” I asked petulantly.
“Hell, no. This is to throw those boys off the trail. They have bets on.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes, dropping my hands to the cinched waist of the dress and attempting to pull in a deep breath.
“Don’t they always?”
Raising her camera as I dropped the veiled tiara on my head, I struck a pose and blinked as the flash bounced off every mirror and blinded me a dozen times over.
“You sure you don’t like this one, doll? You look gorgeous.”
I growled at her.
“Okay. Okay. You want my choice, or do you wanna look?”
“I’ve looked, I don’t see anything that…” I trailed off and stumbled down the platform on the teetering heels as Autumn held out a dress with a broad, knowing grin.
The dress now holding my attention was backless with spaghetti straps, a plunging neckline, and it was made of crocheted lace that fell into a gathered waist with modest, pooling train. The dress was lightweight, simple, and beyond perfect.
“You’ve had that all along?”
“I saw it the moment we walked in,” she said proudly, holding out an arm for me to steady myself on as I stepped from the heels and ran my hand over the gorgeous material. “You wanna try it on?”
I nodded, unable to speak as I took the dress from her hands and headed to the changing room slowly. Autumn trailed behind me, unbuttoning the seventy buttons on the back of the dress’s corset. By the time I stepped into the changing room, I was able to just bounce out of the one I was wearing.
I held up the new dress and admired every detail on the bodice before I pulled it over my head and smiled at the gentle slide of fabric. I knew this was the dress the moment I slipped it on. It fit perfectly. No clips were needed, and no straps needed to be loosened. The bohemian
style felt like me, and my reflection made me grin back at it.
“Autumn.” I could hear the smile in my voice as I spoke but ignored the need to giggle as I waited.
The moment Autumn stepped into the changing room, she started to cry. She gave me a once over, covered her mouth with her hands, and shook her head.
“Happy tears,” she mumbled, waving me away with a watery chuckle when I tried to comfort her. “Do you like it?”
I twirled. “I love it. This is the one.”
“You don’t want to look somewhere else?”
I shook my head and glanced at the mirror, bouncing on my toes and ignoring the fading bruises that were beginning to look like I had jaundice. “This is it.”
Autumn nodded and watched as I checked every angle. Eventually, she helped me out of it and took the dress with her to wait for me, while I dressed and tried to hang the other dresses I’d tried on as neatly as I could. When I’d redressed in the clothes I’d arrived in, I walked out and found Autumn standing with Deeks, the two of them looking proud of themselves while the sales assistant bagged the dress.
“What did you do?” I asked, looking between them.
“It’s our gift to you,” Autumn squealed wringing her hands. She flung a hand out at the dress, sending her hair swinging over her shoulder. All the air left my lungs for a moment before I remembered how to breathe in again. I gaped at the two of them with an open mouth—the credit card Drew had given me suddenly weighing a hundred pounds in my back pocket.
“Guys…”
“Don’t gush,” Deeks begged with a wink.
“You really didn’t have to do this.”
“We wanted to.” Autumn took the dress from the sales assistant and draped it over her arm. “I’ll keep this at my place so the guys can’t take a peek. I’ve sent Deeks the pictures of the other dresses to throw the boys off. So, the only thing left to do today is the flower market.”
“I’m going back to the bar,” Deeks grumbled, only half joking. He looked so out of place amongst all the whites and off whites, I wasn’t surprised when he eased the dress from Autumn’s grasp and mumbled something about taking it to the van and meeting us at the market.
It felt good to stretch my legs and body as we headed toward the flower market that was only a couple of blocks over. The area we were in was full of small boutique shops, small bakeries, and coffee shops, too. The smell of coffee beans filled the air as we passed the door of one of the smaller coffee shops, and when I glanced in, ready to bemoan my self-induced coffee ban, I froze in place.
Tucked in the back of the small shop were several intimate loveseats and armchairs. The one in the corner held my interest the most. In that loveseat sat Rosie Sullivan, wearing a slutty little low-cut dress as she leaned over to reach her coffee, flashing major cleavage. In the chair opposite her was a guy with lank, dark, shoulder-length hair, broad shoulders, and he was wearing a leather cut.
I thought I was seeing things when he eased forward and slid his index playfully into the neckline of her dress, tugging it down a little farther for him to get an eye full.
This was a casual move that any couple could have exchanged, and it wasn’t what had transpired that had thrown me off, but more the comfort in how it had been executed, as well as the couple that had shared it.
“Autumn?”
“Yes, sugar?”
“Look in there, in the back, on the right. What do you see?”
Her gasp was all I needed to hear. The Nav’s patch on the back of the man’s cut was as clear as Rosie’s face.
“We need to get back home,” I said, steering her toward the van. I hated to cut our little shopping trip short, but this mess suddenly took precedence. “Flowers next week?”
Autumn nodded in agreement before glancing back into the coffee shop one last time.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath, taking over to guide me back to Deeks.
She could say that again.
Chapter Seventeen
DREW
I pulled down the peak of my black baseball cap, scrunching my eyes shut before I pushed the cap back up again. This headache of mine had been lingering for days as the responsibilities of life began to mount.
Weddings. Babies. Enemies. Brotherhoods.
I was twenty-nine years old—feeling like a hundred.
With my free hand, I spun the bottle of beer around on top of the table, staring at it as I waited for the other men to arrive. Life had gotten so hectic for us all around here, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d sat at the table this way like we were still a full functioning club—one that I was the head of, with the gavel resting next to me, waiting to be brought down once a decision had been made.
I’d made the choice to purposely leave Deeks out of this meeting, sending him on errands with Ayda while she got things in place for the wedding. The sooner she became my wife, the better.
The door creaked open, and Kenny walked through wearing a sad smile of acknowledgment, soon followed by Slater, Jedd, Moose, and a few other guys who each had their smokes hanging from the corners of their mouths. I squinted against the cloud of gray air they brought in with them, instantly thinking of Harry.
Get it together, son.
Right, Harry.
Clearing my throat, I messed with the peak of my cap again and readjusted the cut on my shoulders. Jedd and Slater flanked me on either side and once all the men were in place, I looked up at them individually and scowled.
“Someone’s missing,” I told them.
“Deeks is out with Ayda,” Kenny reminded me, but I shook my head slowly and glanced back at the closed door that led to the bar.
“I’m not talking about Deeks. We need Eric in here.”
Whoever coughed roughly failed to hide their surprise, but I didn’t flinch. I just waited for someone to get out of their fucking chair and go to get him.
Slater moved quickly, the screech of his chair against the hard floor sounding like a sharp knife against my already aching head.
“Bold move,” Jedd muttered beside me.
All I could do was offer him a weak half smile and a raise of my brows.
“Makes quite the statement,” he added.
“What do you want me to do? Leave him out of this shit when he’s the one leading the way?”
“Not even a little bit.” Jedd leaned back in his chair with satisfaction, his eyes trained on the door he was waiting for Slater and Eric to walk back through.
When they did, Slater led the way, and Eric followed closely behind him. His hand rested on the edge of the open door, and his eyes found mine immediately. There were no looks, no subtle gestures, or any words spoken. I gave him to the count of ten to see the certainty in my face and sit the fuck down, and luckily he did just that, taking the empty seat that was once Harry’s.
The significance of it didn’t go unnoticed.
Nobody had sat in that chair since Harry’s cancer-riddled ass had ruled us all with a quiet manipulation we hadn’t seen at the time. Now there was another scheming bastard keeping that seat warm, and I had no doubts in my mind that Eric had the same good intentions for the club that Harry had had while alive.
Looking around the table, all eyes were on me, and for the first time in a very long time, nerves attacked me. The pressure tingled my spine. Being president didn’t feel as natural as it once had, and I had no idea why that was or what that meant for my future.
“First things first: this is long overdue, but I feel I owe each and every one of you here an apology,” I announced.
Slater’s scowl was firm, and his shoulders became set, while Jedd had to press his lips together to stop himself from scolding me—that much was clear.
“Since being released from Huntsville, a lot has changed in my life,” I admitted, looking down at my clamped hands, my fingers twisting together. “When I left you all to deal with the club, and the aftermath of Pete’s death, I was a selfish bastard who couldn’t se
e the light even in the daytime. All I saw was darkness. Everything here was blurred,” I waved a weak hand over my forehead, frowning as I did, “drowned out by the screaming rage and venom in my head. I never thought about any of you. I never thought about this club that had raised me from a child and taught me things I could never dream of being taught. I only saw the bad in everything. I saw the loss of my brother as a personal attack, and I was the only one injured from it. I didn’t care who in here was hurting. I didn’t care about your pain. The only thing I had on my mind was survival, and the thoughts about the desperate need I felt to escape and punish myself for believing we were indestructible. It was self-flagellation because Pete was my religion, and I’d obviously done so many fucked up things in my life that his death was my penance—something I brought on myself without realizing it. It had to be. The pain I felt, it was my fault.”
Glancing up, I met each of their gazes as I looked around the table.
“As if that wasn’t selfish enough, I then had the nerve to waltz out of prison and fall in love with a girl.”
A few of the men laughed and cheered like it was a celebration rather than my apology. Waving them down, I rolled my eyes and rubbed my palms together again.
“She took over everything, and because of that, I let things slip. The club became an excuse for me to be violent when things went wrong with her, or she got hurt, or someone dared to burst this bubble we were in—the bubble I could never dream of being in.”
“Drew, you—”
“Shut up, Slater,” I warned quietly, cutting him off. His shoulders sank, as did his chin to his chest, and I could see by his tense body language that he wasn’t a fan of my apologizing for my happiness—or anything, actually. In Slater’s eyes, there wasn’t much I could do wrong, and if I were ever to slip, he would be the one to pull me back up to safety. He saw it as his duty. “I need to say this… just once, Slate. Please.”
Without Forever: Babylon MC Book 5 Page 12