Call Me...Vengeance: Book 1 in the Vengeance MC Series (26 page)

“I’ll talk to her about it, okay?” I offering calmly.

“There’s no fucking talking to be done, Beth. You tell her that’s the way it is, and she deals with it. If she’s got a problem with it, you let me know and I’ll have a chat with her.” At my stunned look, Jackson grins wickedly. “Not gonna hurt her or scare her, baby. You know me better than that. But I will make sure she’s sees the situation for what it is. You and me together. I’m not gonna have access to your sweet body cut off. I’m not gonna spend my nights and morning’s wishing you were with me when nothing is stopping that from happening. And I’m not gonna worry about you if I don’t fucking have to. We might have started fast, but we’re solid and we’re gonna stay that way. One of the ways that is happening is by us spending time together continuing to get to know each other. Can’t do that in separate houses, baby.”

“Ah, I think your idea of getting to know one another and mine are entirely different things, honey,” I say jokingly. “Deep and meaningful conversations are relatively difficult to have when most of our time together is spent naked.”

“We talking now?” He questions.

Damn, I’m beginning to hate it when he’s right. He looks so smug when he realizes I’ve got nothing to counter. Squeezing me, Jackson continues.

“I’ll give you tomorrow to talk her around, but come tomorrow night, I’m in your bed. I get that she’s gonna want you at the apartment for a bit and I’m good with hanging there with the two of you, but she’s gonna have to accept that’s the way of it. Not borrowing trouble, baby, but we’re gonna have problems if she takes issue with me being there.”

I don’t
think
Bec will have a problem with Jackson being around, but seeing as I haven’t been in a relationship since I’ve known her, I can’t be positive. I know the idea of us will take some getting used to, and I worry because she’s so protective of me like a Momma bear is her cubs, but I think when she sees how good Jackson is to me she’ll be okay.

“You do know it sucks when you’re right all the time,” I gripe. “And it also sucks when you go all alpha on me because then I get turned on and want to do all kinds of dirty things to you.”

Crossing his arms behind his head, Jackson grinning at me. Swatting playful at his chest, I smile, saying,

“Not going to happen, big boy. You’ve got Gage waiting on you, and I need to get home so that I can run some errands before I start work.” Pushing off him, I roll to my side and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then head out, but don’t forget that Avery, Bella, Bec and I are having a girl’s night out tomorrow.”

“I’ll send Hail with you,” Jackson states, pulling on his jeans commando. Mmm, yum.

“No need. We’re only going to Hounds. There're plenty of people to keep an eye on us there, honey.” Honestly, I don’t think Bec’s initiation into all things MC is best served with a security escort. It will be hard enough convincing her that they aren’t dangerous guys without a huge, hulking bodyguards trailing us around.

Bec isn’t judgmental, she’s just protective. She has been my own personal shield for so long that it’s become part of her makeup now. It’s automatic for her to worry about me, and I hate that for her. I hate that I put her in the position that she’d need to be that for me.

Jackson might not understand why Bec behaves the way she does toward me, but that’s nobody’s fault but my own. I haven’t shared that part of my past with him, and to be honest, I don’t want to. And if I have to tell him, I want to be able to do it in my own time. That takes building up the courage that to date has eluded me. Call me selfish, that I want to keep this to myself for longer, especially considering the direction our relationship is heading, but I need that small piece of control. The ability to choose who I share the darkest, most humiliating part of my life.

“I’ll let Jimmy know then. He’ll watch out for you, but Beth,” Jackson prompts. “You take your cell, you stay alert, and you call me if anything feels off. I don’t give the first fuck if you think it’s nothing, you trust your gut and call me immediately. If you can’t promise me that, I’ll send Hail, Fury, and fucking Gage with you.”

Knowing better than to challenge him, I reluctantly agree.

“I will, I promise.”

“I’m not kidding, baby,” he growls. “I’ll let you have this play because I know you don’t want to spook your girl her first night in town, but that doesn’t mean I’ve gotta like it. The only reason I’m agreeing is because Jimmy’s got a shotgun behind the bar and is a fucking good shot. You were going anywhere other than Hounds and you’ve gotta know, you’d have an escort. Also, me letting you have this play doesn’t mean I won’t have a brother drop in to check on you. He won’t hang around, you won’t see him, but someone will look in on you.”

Stepping in front of him, I grab his shirt in my hands and tip my head back.

“I said I promise, and I meant it. If I get a strange vibe, I’ll call. You need to stop worrying so much, honey. You’ll send yourself to an early grave if you don’t. And, I will accept your generous offer of an invisible, silent, watchman if it makes you feel more comfortable,” I retort sarcastically.

That’s when Jackson kisses me hard, deep, wet, and with lots of tongue. Tilting my head back, one hand fisted in my hair and the other snaking around my waist, he has me panting with need in seconds. But this isn’t a new development. Every kiss from him causes me to have a reaction like this. It doesn’t matter where we are, how long it has been since he last touched me, or how short it is, every time Jackson puts his hands on me I melt.

Disentangling himself from me and landing a slap on my ass, he pulls his cut off the hook behind the door, slipping it over his broad shoulders.

I love watching Jackson get dressed, as backward as that sounds. The way he methodically moves is almost hypnotic. The reverence Jackson shows for his cut, his most treasured possession, which is always treated with such care, being hung or folded, never tossed carelessly aside. He adds his leather wallet to his back pocket, attaches the chain to his belt loop, and slides the silver rings he removes every night last.

Sometimes, I think the man has more of an obsession over silver than I do. He wears no less than seven, chunky silver rings, two of them spanning the base of his fingers to the second knuckle. A heavy, thick banded silver watch adorns his right wrist. It’ not a cheap watch being that it’s a Tag Heuer. In fact, it’s worth at least five thousand dollars, something I know because my father owned one similar. Not that Jackson’s taste in expensive timepieces matters to me, I could care less, it is merely an observation I made.

The only piece of jewelry Jackson doesn’t room at the end of the day is a set of dog tags that hang low, resting between his pecs. Incidentally, they are the set of dog tags I gave him last week.

Under the watchful eye of Jay, Avery, Bella, and I were temporarily released with permission from Jackson to go shopping. In Boulder no less. Something Jay was less than impressed he was forced to chaperone. In saying that, he put in a valiant effort, only calling it quits when Avery announced our next stop was Victoria’s Secret. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve seen Jay move so fast. He herded us and our thousand bags, (okay, so that is probably an exaggeration, but it really did look like we had that many) back to his truck, and delivered us to the clubhouse muttering something about ‘bitches wanting to kill him.’ Needless to say, Jay isn’t all that fired up to take us shopping again anytime soon.

Before we were dragged out, Bella mentioned there was a funky jewelry store that had opened a month earlier that featured one-off pieces. Apparently the owner had been an avid collector of vintage and handmade jewelry for years and wanted to share her bounty with the world. Something I will be forever grateful for seeing as her pieces are as unique as they are fascinating.

In my search, I found a cool, circa 1970’s, rodeo belt buckle for Bec that I knew she’d just have to have, a wide, hand-tooled, leather wrist cuff for Jay to apologize for his day of torture, and a selection of silver bangles for me. Some plain and some with semi-precious stones inlaid in the center.

What caught my eye and had me turning around, even though I had already paid and collected my purchases, was the dog tags. On a thin, leather strap, two tags stamped differently hung on a rack close to the exit. The first carries the image of an Eagle, the second the blind lady of justice. They were perfect for Jackson I knew it the second I saw them. The Eagle for the freedom and strength the MC gave him and he gave them; and the blind lady symbolizing truth, liberty, and of course, justice.

When I gave them to him, the look on Jackson’s face had me wanting to snatch them from his hand and ask him to forget he’d ever seen them. A blank mask covered his face, it was absolutely devoid of emotion. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking buying them for him. We’d only been together for such a short amount of time it was ridiculous of me to believe I knew him well enough to buy him something that was so obviously personal.

As long minutes passed, all I could focus on was how the hell I could make a run for it while he was lost inside his head. I knew I didn’t have a hope of making it out of his room generally, but with him so lost in his thoughts, I figured I had a good chance of success. But before I could put my ill thought out plan into action, Jackson ended our silence by blinking rapidly, taking the three strides to close the distance between us, and throwing me onto his bed. At which time there wasn’t a whole lot of talking unless you count a few oh my God’s, me moaning his name and him growling mine. But he did set about showing me just how appreciative he was for his gift. Better yet, he hasn’t taken hem off since.

“You take your shower, baby, but come find me before you leave. Can’t send Gage with you today, but Cash is gonna see you make it home to get what you need done, and make sure you get to work safely.”

“Mmhmm,” I mumble while tracing the muscles of his chest with my hands.

“You gotta let me go so you can get on that, baby. I’ve gotta get out there and see what Gage wants before he starts beating down the fucking door again too,” he says, kissing my hair setting me away from him.

Not long later, freshly showered and dressed in a new outfit I picked up during our shopping expedition of doom, or so Jay has labeled it, I grab my purse and head out in search of Jackson. Finding him seated at one of the long tables the club uses at mealtimes, he opens his arms to me and scoots back in his chair.

Climbing onto his lap and quickly pressing my mouth to his, earns me several grins from the men seated beside him.

“I need to get going, honey. You told me to come find you, but I have to leave now or I’m going to be late.”

Enfolding me in his strong arms, Jackson hugs me tightly, kisses me far more intimately than I did him, and then demands,

“Call when you get there and when you’re ready to leave. Cash’s number is in your cell. You need to leave, even if it’s to get lunch, you call him. No text. No voicemail. Call only. He doesn’t pick up, you keep calling until he does and you stay put. Keep your eyes open, baby. I don’t expect any problems, but I want you alert, yeah?”

Agreeing to all of his instructions, I say goodbye to everyone, including a very lengthy later to my man, and follow Cash to his lifted, black Chevy truck.

I wish I had the gift of foresight so that I could have taken Jackson’s warning more seriously. I wish that I hadn’t been stubborn and worried about how my best friend would react to one of Jackson’s brothers tagging along the next night. Above all else, I wish that I had told Jackson I loved him this morning before he left. But it’s too late now. Too late to undo what’s done. All I can do is hold onto the hope that I’ll get that chance again.

Lying here, cold, tired, and terrified, one thing became blindingly clear to me. While my mind fights to shut out the pain, the haze lingering around the edges of consciousness threatens to take me under without warning, I realize that every step and all my suffering has been worth it. I would go through it all over again if I had to.

Why? Because it led me to Jackson.