“You don’t have to say anything,” I promise, squeezing his hand as I speak. “But I need you to listen to me. I’m not sure what Paddy told you, but I know it can’t be the whole truth because there’s only two people who know that—me and Alanah… and you’re not listening to either of us right now.”
The only response he gives is a grunt, followed by a slight tightening of his fingers around mine.
It’s enough for me.
“My father is Mario DiAmore,” I begin. “As you would know, he was once on track to become the President of a chapter of the Mavericks of Mayhem until he had a falling out with Wizard. After that, he started his own club, the Ugly Bastards. My big brother, Sergio, has been his right-hand man since the club’s inception. My mother was the head whore—Mario’s mistress. She left the club when she fell pregnant, only to return a bit over a year later and leave me in the front bar.”
Brian’s curls his fingers around mine and holds them hard. My confession must ring bells for him, considering it’s close to the story of his own son’s beginning.
“Mario rejected me. He’s never accepted me as his which is why my name was, is, and will remain Anita Carlucci. Thankfully, Serge never denied me my birthright. He’s nineteen years older than me so we’ve always been more like father and daughter than brother and sister.”
Again his grip increases in intensity. Once again, our lives run parallel. My story is similar to his and Alanah’s.
“When my dad had a motorcycle accident and had to step down as president because he couldn’t ride any longer, my brother stepped up. It made sense; he was basically running the club anyhow. Serge promised to keep it a secret from the outside world, so no one came after the club because they thought it has been weakened. Everything chugged along just fine, until something changed, and Serge developed a hard on for the Shamrocks.
He saw me as a way in. And when he asked me to change schools to get close to Alanah and Grace, I did what any sister who owes a debt that big would do—I agreed, and I tried to live up to my end of the bargain. I didn’t think it would be easy, but I could never have imagined how hard it would end up being. Your family is so much like mine. Your club is so much like the one I grew up in. Everything was so familiar, yet so different all at once. You guys really cared about one another. I saw the way you looked after Alanah, and I wanted that. I wanted a family who did what was right without expectations of being paid back in the future.”
“Nita,” Brian cuts into my monologue. “It doesn’t matter. You still lied. Maybe in the start, if you’d told me, I could have understood. It’s been five fucking months, though. You’ve lived in my house. Shared my bed. Raised my son…”
“I know.” I let go of his hand to grab hold of his shirt. Pulling on the dusty fabric, I make him look at me. “I did all that because I chose you. After we kissed at the hospital, I told him I wouldn’t give him anymore information, and I didn’t… occasionally something small might be inadvertently passed on as part of a normal conversation, but for the most part, I stopped spying.”
The lights of a decent sized country town come into view. Brian pulls into the darkest corner in the parking lot of the first truck stop we come across and kills the engine. Without speaking, he searches the glove box, before pulling out a squashed packet of cigarettes and lighting one up. Rolling down his window, he inhales and exhales—wash, rinse and repeat—until the cigarette is gone.
I let him have his nicotine fix. He must be unravelling because that’s the first smoke I’ve seen him have since Sam arrived. I don’t care how long it takes, or how much nicotine he ingests.
He needs to hear me out, and if this means I have to spoon feed him the truth, then so be it.
Flicking the butt out of his window into the asphalt lot, Brian finally addresses what I’ve told him.
“So, why would Paddy say—”
“Paddy has been playing you for months,” I cut him off. Shaking his head, he jams his hands in his hair. I watch the way he tugs at the strands, then lowers his chin to his chest, and I realise that I need to break Alanah’s confidence to make him understand me. “He’s the reason Alanah ran to Vic’s that night. I lied when I told you nothing happened.”
He lifts his head, eyeballing me with growing anger. “You said—”
Again, I stop him before he heads down the wrong line of thought.
“I never slept with him. I was going to, except I changed my mind when it came down to doing it. He didn’t like that. He tried to force me, then he tried to get Alanah to join us. I don’t think I was the first; I think it’s a sick game he plays with Alanah because he wants her, and she wants Vic, and he knows she’ll never tell you because she won’t get between you and the Shamrocks.”
I can see that I’m pushing him too hard, too fast. His mind is spinning out of control—his confusion about the treachery that surrounds him clouds his eyes.
It is painful to see.
It also can’t be helped.
We need to clear the air tonight.
“And the explosion today?”
Dragging in a ragged breath, I lay it all out for him. I tell him about Carly still being alive and her connection to his father. I reveal that Paddy and Leo planned to take out Vic. I explain that Paddy was using him to turn Cole and Quinn against their oldest friend, and I detail my suspicions that my brother’s club is behind the explosions today.
I even admit that I scared Shari off the day before she left Sam on the front porch.
The entire time, Brian listens in silence. He barely moves. He doesn’t even seem to be breathing at times. His lack of reaction scares me. A boulder wedges itself in the pit of my gut, smaller fragments making their way up my throat, almost stealing my voice as they wedge in my oesophagus. My eyes burn then fill with water. I refrain from blinking because I know once I do my tears will spill free.
“Do you understand now why I didn’t speak up?” Swallowing the lump that’s blocking my throat, I take hold of both his hands and tug at them until he looks me in the eyes. “I fell in love with you and it scared me to death. What I did was wrong, I know that, but most of it was done for a good reason.”
“What reason could you possibly have?”
The urge to cry becomes too much. I blink. Tears fall free, tripping out of my eyes, one after the other, crashing into each other and turning into one single stream that rushes from each corner of my eyes and down my face.
He’s heard me. I know he has.
But he still doesn’t understand.
“I didn’t tell you I’d lied because I knew that when you found out I would lose you,” I shout through my choking sobs. “The longer I lied, the longer I got to keep you. It was as simple as that in the end. I’m not stupid. I knew once you found out that I was a DiAmore, you’d never look at me the same, so I kept lying and lying, and lying some more because every time I lied, it bought me more time with you and Sam.”
Brian’s face loses its stony expression. He lets go of my hands and gets out of the car. When he slams his door shut, I bury my face in my hands and let the final vestiges of hope I’d been holding onto float away. Icy cold loneliness invades me, and I allow my sorrow free rein.
We’re done.
It’s over.
He will never forgive me.
Through the web created by my fingers, I watch him stride over to the brightly-lit truck stop. He enters the booth that surrounds the pay phone and makes a call. It’s doesn’t take long before he slams the handset back in the cradle and stalks inside the shop.
My ribs hurt from sobbing. I lay the seat back as far as it can go and curl up into a ball, holding myself with my arms.
I want to fall apart.
I don’t because I know I can’t until I’m somewhere safe.
I’m all out of options, except one. My brother won’t let me back into the fold. The Black Shamrocks know I belong to the enemy. Accepting Brian’s offer of hiding with his family is my only way out of this.
It’s not the avenue I want to take—no woman wants to be beholden to the family of the man she’s used and deceived.
But I will take it, temporarily.
What other choice do I have?
Once I’m healed, I’ll get a job, save as much money as I can, and move to the other side of the continent. Perth in Western Australia sounds good—the furthest point from Brisbane and Brian as I can get without leaving the country.
The crunch of gravel next to my door alerts me to someone’s approach. My door is pulled open. I jack-knife out of my seat, swinging wildly at the intruder. Gentle hands subdue me. The musky smell of a man I know too well immediately calms me. Brian takes hold of me, lifting me from my seat until I’m high in the air and cradled against him. The warmth of his body takes away the chill that had overcome me. He only takes a few steps from the passenger door before turning and perching his backside on the side of the bonnet.
He rearranges me with soft, slow moments until I’m straddling him, and we are face to face.
“I’m not hurting you, am I?”
Wiping my wet face with the bottom of my shirt, I bite down on my trembling bottom lip and lay my hands, palm down, on his heart. “No. Not at all.”
While my body still hurts, just being in Brian’s arms is enough to take the edge off the worst of it. I never thought I’d feel him like this again, his hard body around mine, his familiar scent surrounding me, the feel of his steady heartbeat beneath my fingertips.
My brother has always been my keeper.
His club became my temporary home.
Brian is my person.
The perfect complement to my soul.
The one.
“I don’t know how to make this right,” he breathes against my throat when he lowers his face into the spot where my neck meets my collar bone. Having him do this again, something that he does almost every night soothes the remaining tension from my body.
Now the truth is out, I want to be his safe place.
Please, God, let him come home to me.
“You don’t have to fix anything,” I reply, moving my hands from his chest and running them up and down his sides. “That’s on me. All I ask of you is two things.”
Lifting my hands back to his wide chest, I pat his heart. “One: trust me not to break this again.”
He takes hold of my hands, gathering them in his, before he lifts them to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.
“I can try,” he says with apology in his voice.
“That’s all I ask.”
Brian runs his fingers under the edge of my t-shirt, grazing my lower tummy with his thumbs. A shudder makes its way through me. Working his hands up to my breasts, he cups them over my bra. When he leans forward, I pre-empt his intent, and meet him halfway.
We kiss. It’s timid. Apologetic. Full of love and sadness.
“What’s number two?” he asks, resting his forehead against mine.
Closing my eyes to block out his handsome face, I take a moment to rally my thoughts. What I want isn’t something I should ask him for. It’s disrespectful of me to put him through it, yet I don’t believe he’ll deny me.
“Number two,” I say, reopening my eyes and putting a little space between us. Running my right hand between our bodies, I cup his hardening bulge. “Make love to me before you leave me.”
His answer is a lingering kiss that sets my blood on fire. I push his Black Shamrocks cut from his shoulders and rip his shirt buttons free. Both items land with a soft thud on the bonnet behind him. He tugs my shirt over my head and lets it fall to the ground. Unclasping my bra, he frees my breasts and buries his head between them. I tangle my fingers in his hair, arching my back when he sucks my left nipple into his mouth and laves it with his tongue.
We move together; grinding, pushing, pulling in unison. He puts me back on my feet long enough to strip my pants down my legs, holding them so I can step out of them. Unfastening his denim, he lifts me back over his length and sets me down over him.
I welcome his hardness inside my body until he’s seated fully within me. Brian’s hands grip my backside, kneading the soft flesh and using it as leverage to move me at a pace that matches the leisurely pumping of his hips. Taking hold of his face, I bring my mouth to his, pushing my tongue between his lips and tasting him.
Our love making quickly becomes frantic. The car wobbles beneath us. The bonnets creaks as it protests our combined weight. Brian’s grip on me tightens painfully. The intensity of his thrusts becomes savage.
He is devouring me. Branding me. Burning his touch into every inch of my body.
Throwing my head back when he presses my clit with his thumb, I hold onto his shoulders for dear life, and accept every ounce of passion he has to offer.
I don’t care if I can’t walk tomorrow.
Tonight is ours.
We breathe together.
Our hearts beat together.
Our bodies are fused together.
We belong together.
Eventually, it all becomes too much. My inner walls spasm around his cock, gripping him tight and milking him as my orgasm hits. He follows seconds later, a roar of animalistic proportions erupting from his throat and echoing through the night.
“Oh, Brian,” I say, kissing my way up his chest to his throat until I find his lips. “Please believe that I love you.”
“Fucking hell, Nita,” he groans against the crook of my neck. His body shakes, as does mine, and we cling to each other. “What am I going to do without you?”
“Come with me,” I say. “Bring Sam. We can start over somewhere new.”
He groans again. Taking hold of my hips, he pulls me off his still-hard cock, stands me on my feet and slips his shirt over my body. Laying me down in the back seat of the car, he wriggles in behind me and hugs me to his chest.
We lie there in silence. My question hangs in the air. I can almost hear his jumbled thoughts racing around his head. For me, this is simple. I have no one but Brian and Sam. For the man holding me, it’s not quite so easy.
He has a family.
A son to raise.
A club to save.
“I have to go back,” Brian whispers against my hair. “Alanah needs me. Vic needs me. Sam needs me.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He pulls me tighter to him, so tight I can barely breathe. I grip his hands and hold him just a hard. “I’m going to make it safe for you to come back. If I can trust you with my heart again, that’s what I expect from you.”
I don’t understand his request. “What do you expect from me? I have nothing to offer you if I can’t be in Emerald with you.”
He shakes his head behind me. Planting a kiss on my hair, he moves his mouth closer to my ear. “Yes, you do. You can give me peace of mind by promising that you’ll wait for me. You can give me strength by loving me for who I am. You can give me hope by being my future. I will work with Vic to fix the Shamrocks then I will bring you back into the fold where you belong. Trust me on that—that’s all I expect of you.”
After everything I’ve done, this is more than I deserve.
It’s not the fairy-tale ending I’d hoped for, but it’s real, and it’s possible, and it’s ours.
“Okay,” I vow. “I’ll trust you to come back for me.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, stifling a yawn. “I won’t let you down. Now go to sleep. You’re going to need your rest.”
His yawning is contagious, and I let out one of my own shortly afterward. After the day we’ve had, a few hours sleep sounds good. I thread my fingers through his and pull his big body around me.
“Who did you call before?”
Brian yawns a second time. “My oldest cousin. He’s going to meet us here so I can double back toward home to put them off the scent so you can leave without anyone following you. We have about two hours to grab some shut eye before he gets here.”
The time for us to part is growing closer by the m
inute.
“Don’t let it get inside your head,” Brian commands. He snuggles into me. “We might not be together for a while, but we will get through this.”
As our bodies relax and sleep tries to claim us, I twist to face him.
With my lips pressed against the smooth skin over his heart, I tell him one more time for good measure, “I love you, Brian.”
“I love you, too,” he admits. “Never stopped. Not even for a minute.”
I laugh with disbelief. “I’m pretty sure there were a few seconds there.”
His chest rumbles against my face when he chuckles. “Nope, not even one. You’re my girl. Lies or not, you have been since the first day I laid eyes on you.”
Allowing his words of love to lull me into much-needed sleep, I hold him tight and pray for a speedy resolution to the conflict that’s currently swarming Emerald, the Black Shamrocks MC, and the Ugly Bastards like the dark clouds of a deep-winter storm.
I pray for peace to reign supreme.
I pray for love to prevail over evil.
I pray for our swift reunification.
EPILOGUE
Brian
Three months later
There’s something about birthday’s that brings the best out in the Shamrocks. Today has managed to exceed my admittedly-limited expectations. Hopefully, we’ve turned a corner as a club.
The past three months have been hard. I buried my father. Was forced to institutionalise my mother when she spiralled after his death. We’ve rebuilt the Emerald chapter and renegotiated borders with the Ugly Bastards and Mavericks of Mayhem.
Of course, Serge didn’t put up much of a fight when he learned that he’d killed his own sister in the explosion they set. He’d conceded the turf we wanted and he’d given up ground to the Mavericks to keep them off our arse as well.
Everything was sorted.
Then our Prez took it one step too far and made sure he went down for the bombing. For now, the Ugly Bastards are a non-issue. Their President is in jail for the murders of Anita and my father—despite the lack of bodies from either of his victims. Carly Miller has shown her true colours and is back spreading her legs for any Black Shamrock dumb enough to get drawn into her web.
Butch (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 3) Page 17