“Oh, that’s fantastic! So, you’re going home?” Even though she smiles, Nicola’s eyes have a hint of sadness. I get it.
“He’s bringing one man with him. That’s what I need to talk to you about. The man he’s bringing is very nonthreatening but is also tough and can protect these women. We all call him ‘Blue,’ though I don’t know what his real name is. For all I know, his real name could actually be Blue.”
“What’s Blue going to do?” Celeste asks.
“If you and the other girls are comfortable enough, we want to leave Blue here. He’s going to help organize getting any women that want to go home, home. The Lords have connections and they’ve got cash. We can make sure these girls are safe and back with their friends and families. But in order to do that, we need a liaison to work with you with in the Lords.”
“I don’t know,” Nicola says. “That’s a lot of trust these women will have to put in a man, and I don’t know if they’re ready.”
“I get it. But men make up almost fifty percent of the Earth’s population. They need to begin to see that there are good men in the world, too. That there are men who won’t hurt them. And Nicola, I promise you, promise from the depths of my soul, that the women will be safe with the Lords. You know I would never put the offer on the table if I thought any one of those girls had the chance of being abused again.”
“How about if I go with you?” Nicola suggests. “That way, I can size him up for myself. See if what you’re saying is truthful. Not that you’re lying, but you’ve been living with these boys for a long time. You may not see everything there is to see.”
“I’m not wrong about Blue or Raif or any of his brothers. But I can agree to that. I need you to feel comfortable with this idea so that we can get these women home. They need to go home. You all need to go home.”
The last person I hug goodbye is Celeste. It’s a bittersweet parting, tearful from sadness and hope. I’ve done the cheek kisses and hugs to the other twenty-five women, making sure each and every one of them has my contact information, leaving the burner phone with them.
“If you ever need anything or even just to talk,” I whisper in her ear. “I’m here for you. Day or night. Don’t forget that, okay?”
“I won’t forget,” she says, sniffling. When she drops her arms from around my shoulders, it’s really time to go.
Nicola and Carmen are waiting outside for me on the bikes. Carmen insisted on coming with. This is the iffy part; Carmen holds the bike steady as I climb up on the handlebars and plant my booty. I’ve never ridden on anyone’s handlebars before and it sort of scares the heck out of me. She assures me it’s fine.
“Don’t be a wuss,” she says. “I started riding on people’s handlebars when I was eight years old.”
“It doesn’t seem very safe, and if someone goes flying, it’s going to be me.”
“Yeah, but look on the bright side,” Nicola says. “Since you’ve already got all those bruises on your face and neck, no one will ever know you were injured.” If I weren’t too afraid of falling off this thing, I’d reach over and punch her shoulder. She gets off lucky.
Shakily, Nicola and Carmen begin pedaling. I mean, it’s not too shaky for Nicola, but she doesn’t have someone riding on her handlebars.
The sun feels delicious shining down on us. I never had this, this carefree young fun, wind blowing through my hair, just hanging with the girls. I miss my friends and miss my family. I need to go home. But I will miss this too.
It doesn’t take us too long to make it to Halfway. Instead of going directly into the bar, we lean our bikes against the outdoor brick of the grocery store and walk inside to wait.
I look at the time on the clock on the wall behind the cashier. Where is Raif? I hate it that I’m conditioned now to always expect the worst. I hope that with time, I’ll lose that unattractive trait.
When I see a van pull up, and not a Harley, my stomach clenches. Vans are what women get shoved into when they’re being kidnapped. Well, unless your kidnapper is Escalante, and you get shoved into the back of a high-class black Escalade.
I only have to see the back of his head poking out of the driver side of the van, before I ever see the rest of his body, to know that’s my Raif. My Blood. My husband. And my heart swells. Before he even has the door shut fully, I run from inside the store and across the street. Raif turns around just in time to catch me as I leap into his arms, wrapping my arms and my legs around his shoulders and waist, peppering his face with kisses, not giving him any time to respond. He holds on to my bottom so I don’t slip down and falls back against the van.
“Baby,” he whispers. “Fuck, Han, it’s over baby. It’s over. I got you now and that motherfucker’s never going to bother you again, I promise you. Promise.”
I lower my legs to stand on the ground, pressing my cheek to his chest in order to hear and feel his heart beating and just know that he’s alive and he’s well and he’s here and he’s come to take me home.
Blue rounds the van. “Hey, Han,” he says. “Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Blue.” I cry his name in my raspy voice. “Blue,” I say again, tearing myself momentarily from Raif’s arms to give Blue his hug. That, however, doesn’t go down well with my husband, and Blue hardly has a chance to return the hug before I’m tugged back into Raif’s arms.
“Uh-uh,” Raif says. “Mine.”
I laugh.
“Where’re these women I’m supposed to meet?” Blue asks.
I step back from Raif to point over to the store. “Over there.”
That’s when Raif grabs ahold of my face, gently turning it to take in the full picture. “What the fuck happened to you?” He, with soft touches, traces all the bruising. “This why you don’t sound like you?”
I nod, tears filling my eyes.
“He hurt you.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Not in that way, but yes, he hurt me. Although, this”—I circle my face and my neck with my hand—“isn’t from Escalante. There was another man. I don’t want to talk about it now. I’ll tell you because you need to know and you deserve to know, but please don’t make me relive it right now.”
Raif’s response is to kiss me. Soft and sweet. Full of passion and love. So much love. As his lips move over mine, despite the thousands of kisses he’s given me over the years, I know I’ll never forget this one. It goes on until Blue clears his throat.
“Hate to break this up, but the women? I need to help them and you all got a plane to catch.”
“Yes,” I say. I lead the men across the street to the grocery store. Nicola and Carmen step out from the protection of the building. “Ladies, this is my husband, Raif.” I hold up his hand in mine so they know which man I’m referring to. “And this is Blue.” I point to him, but they can figure it out, as there’re only two men standing with me.
When Carmen’s and Blue’s eyes meet, I swear I see fireworks. But, like Crass with Brighton, if he chooses to go there, if she lets him go there, he’s going to have a lot of work on his hands.
“What would you like to ask to get to know me, to trust that I’m only here to help these women get home?” Blue asks.
While Carmen can’t tear her eyes away from Blue, and there’s a look of awe and confusion—like she can’t believe what she’s thinking or feeling or seeing—she says nothing. Nicola, on the other hand, must see what the rest of us are seeing because she smiles and says, “I think I trust you already. But if you hurt one of these women, I will kill you.”
“We gotta get going, baby,” Raif says. I blink, waking myself up from the trance of seeing these two wonderful people meet for the first time.
“Nicola, if I thought it would do me any good, I’d beg you to come with me back to Thornbriar. It’ll hurt to say goodbye, even though I know you have to stay, why you have to stay. But what about you, Carmen?” I stop to wipe the tears from my face. “We could set you up back home, give you a good life from here on out
.”
“Thank you,” she says, reaching over to take my hand. She squeezes it. “But I still have work to do here first.”
I lean in to hug my friend goodbye, hugging her tightly, fiercely, so she believes that I love her and will welcome her if she ever shows her face in Thornbriar. Then I move to Nicola. We hold each other in an even stronger embrace. The bond formed between us, that can never be broken.
As I start to pull back, she whispers in my ear, “I think you’ll be seeing Carmen sooner than you expect.”
20.
Raif
The rest of my Lords brothers are waiting for Hannah and me when we arrive at the small airport outside Corpus Christi.
Together, when we get the signal, we board the small ten-seater plane and wait for takeoff.
Hannah watches out the window the entire time, holding my hand tightly as she does, and it’s a miracle being here to experience this with her for the first time.
When we land a couple of hours later, the women are there with their trucks to get us back to Thornbriar. Boss offers to take me and Han back, but then he also attacks his wife’s lips, shoving his tongue down her throat, and they start going at it in the front cab. We decide to find somebody else.
Chaos calls over to me. “Hey, brother, why don’t you and Han ride back with us?”
Leading Hannah by the hand, we walk over to Chaos and Liv’s truck, where I hold the back door open for my wife and help her up inside. She slides over and I slide in next to her, knowing that A., being away from his wife, Chaos is going to want to have Liv next to him, and B., it’s going to be a long fucking time before I let Hannah be away from me again.
They’ve all given her a look, but none of my brothers are rude enough to ask what happened. They know I’ll tell them when the time is right to tell them. That’s another part of the brotherhood.
It’s a little over a half hour later when we pull back onto the compound. I’ve never been so glad to see home. Unlike Texas, where it’s hot as fucking Hades already, springtime in Kentucky is warm, but it’s beautiful. All the little buds—greens and white growing on the trees. There’s still some wind, some chill at nighttime. For the most part, it’s a good deal.
The rest of the brothers started back home once we safely crossed back over the border into the United States after visiting with Anguino, which means they beat us back home. You’d think the Queen of fucking England was coming to visit the way we’re greeted when our procession stops, pulling in the parking spaces in front of homes or in front of the clubhouse. Every brother, old lady, and even the kids of the club file out from the clubhouse to greet us.
Even though she knows all of these people, it’s a lot for Hannah to deal with and she sort of shrinks behind me, pressing her front tight against my back.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Raif,” she says.
She’s been through an ordeal. “Fuck, baby, you gotta ease up a little on yourself. They all love you and want to know that you’re okay, but you know as well as I do, they’ll all understand if you can’t people right now.”
“I don’t want to be rude,” she argues.
“Fuck that, be fucking rude. You do what you need to do in order to heal, baby.”
While the other brothers and their old ladies who drove back from the airfield with us walk over to give their hugs and back pats, Hannah and I keep to where we’re standing. “We appreciate you all showing up today,” I say, speaking for the both of us. “But Hannah needs to rest for a while, so we’re just gonna go to our room and let her catch her bearings, okay?”
“Definitely take your woman home,” Duke says. “But it ain’t gonna be the room.” He points over to a brand-new trailer on the property that I would’ve had no reason to notice until it was pointed out to me. Tan, not beige, siding. White trim. A rudimentary porch painted white with a thick bannister and latticework beneath.
He walks a set of keys over to us, dropping them in my upturned hand. “I’m stunned,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Nothin’ to say,” he replies, then he turns to Hannah. “Glad to have you back safe, sweetheart.” He raises his hand as if to pat her cheek but stops himself, dropping his hand back to his side. “Come on, Doc,” he says, holding his hand out to her. As she reaches his side holding little Diesel, he takes Jade’s hand with his other and I hear him say, “Let’s get the kids some dinner, then we’re gonna practice makin’ Diesel a big brother.”
She throws her head back and laughs the way only Caity laughs, that’s to say, the laugh of a woman exceedingly happy as the wife of a biker president.
We walk up onto our porch and Hannah waits for me to unlock the door. I push it open and scoop her up into my arms to carry her across the threshold. And then I stop dead. They didn’t just set up a house for us—they set up a whole fucking home.
Sofa, tables, lamps, TV, recliner, shit like a coffee maker in the kitchen and I know if I check, there’ll be flatware and dishes, probably even pots and pans. I set Han down on the cool-as-shit brown leather sofa, which is definitely brand new but is purposely worn in spots to make it look comfortably lived in, and bend down to kiss her cheek. “Welcome home, baby.”
It had to have been the women because I don’t see any of these men doing such a thorough job of grocery shopping. If I had to guess, Brinley led that charge. As I’m moving around the kitchen, getting familiar with where everything got put away and whipping us up some dinner, my phone vibrates with a text.
Caity: I’m coming to check Hannah out.
Me: Practice making Diesel a big brother. Give us till tomorrow.
Caity: Bright and early. Before work.
Me: Deal.
The rest of the evening, Hannah and I chill on the sofa under a blanket that I found in one of the closets, eating our grilled cheeses and tomato soup—I kept the food smooth for her throat—and watching TV.
Two weeks later…
After dropping Hannah off at the house after work, I went to grab a few more things from my room inside that I’ll probably be giving up here soon because we live on the damn property, which means there’s no reason to keep it. And now I’m back home. When I open the front door, Han’s sitting on the sofa, no TV on or music. She’s been healing nicely. The bruising has gone down considerably and Caity put us in contact with an OT who specializes in throat issues. Now she’s actually getting her voice back. The drawback is now she sounds breathy when she speaks, which leaves me in a constant state of needing to fuck my wife, which I haven’t done in weeks.
“Something wrong, baby?” I ask, walking to drop down next to her.
“I know the bruises look nasty,” she says. “But are they really that bad?”
What? “Not sure I’m following.”
“The bruises. Do they make me unappealing?”
“Fuck no—you’re as beautiful as ever.”
“Then what’s the problem?” she asks. “Why haven’t you touched me? Even when we weren’t together officially, we always came together that way, Raif. Now… nothing.” Dammit, she looks about two seconds away from crying.
“You went through all you went through, it had to be you to come to me, baby. Only you can let me know when you’re ready. If it’s tonight—thank Christ because my hand’s getting calloused from jacking off. You and that sexy, throaty voice. You say hi and I’m ready to bend you over the fucking sofa and take you from behind. But if it’s not for another week, a month, six months—I can wait, Hannah. You’re worth the wait.”
She climbs onto my lap, the insides of her knees pushing against my thighs, then she holds my face, staring deeply into my eyes. Damn, she’s beautiful. The longer she looks, the faster my heart beats and I want to see if hers beats as fast as mine. If I affect her the same way. I lift one of my hands, pressing the palm lightly to the pulse point in her neck. Those bruises are a giant crevasse between us and I can’t tell her because I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I swallow hard
. This is my issue. I’m the one who needs to get over it. That decided, I glide my palm over the worst of the bruising and stop to stroke my thumb over the hinge of her jaw.
Her chest heaves as the seconds pass between us. Tears rim her eyes and she squeezes them shut, dropping her forehead to mine. She brushes her soft lips over my bottom one, then moves up to take the top one separately.
A sob rips from her and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in close to my body. “It’s okay, baby,” I whisper, pressing kisses to her mouth and cheek and jaw—anywhere she lets me touch her. Her delicate hand fists my shirt and I don’t need a pulse point to feel her heart beating now. I move her legs to lock around my waist and stand, walking us into our bedroom, where I lay her back, my big body covering her smaller one. And god, the way we fit.
Now that I’ve broken the seal, I can’t stop touching her. I’m a moth, she’s the flame. I curl my hands to cup the back of her head and lift it to bring our mouths even closer. She grabs my hands, not pulling me away, but bracing them, and she opens her mouth to me, allowing me access. I use my tongue, probing as hers tangles with mine in a seductive dance and she sucks my bottom lip inside.
“Touch me,” she begs, and even if I wanted to, in that throaty voice, I can’t deny her. Cupping one of her breasts, I lift it, kneading it as I swipe across her nipple and she gasps. “More.”
She wants more? I’m happy to oblige. I switch to the other, giving it the same treatment. She runs her hand down the front of my jeans at the fly, pressing in, and I hiss out a sharp breath, losing purchase of that damn delectable mouth. The next thing I know, she has the button undone and the zipper down, her hand inside my pants, freeing me, stroking me. Dammit, that feels good.
As she continues to rub, I somehow gain the presence of mind to lift her shirt up over her head and toss it to the floor. Then I don’t bother to unhook her bra, trailing the straps down her arms, and I flip it down. Bending in, I take her breast again, this time sucking the rosy nipple into my mouth. Her body begins to vibrate beneath me and the harder I suck, the more of a reaction she gives. We both need more. To give her more, I tuck my fingers under the elastic waistband of her shorts, snagging her panties, too, as I drag them down her legs.
Blood Revealed (Brimstone Lords MC Book 6) Page 25