Outlaw's Bride (16 page)

“Ma! Why don't you get the kid those clothes you told me about on the phone. We'll see how they fit and take him out to the park. It's too damned nice a day to waste it in here all day blabbing about the past.”

Julie's face lit up, and she disappeared into the small bedroom with Caleb. “Come on back when you're ready! These are all hand-me-downs I got from Suzie's grandbaby, but they should fit him fine.”

I waited until she was busy rummaging through the closet, cheerfully pipping baby talk back at Caleb every time he laughed. Then I leaned over to Roman and reached for his hand, squeezing it without thinking.

“Was Dagger your father?”

He gave me a stern look. “Babe, you'll know soon enough. Let's just enjoy the sun and watch her play grandma. We'll be back busting our asses unpacking tonight.”

I frowned, mostly at the heavy mystery hanging over everything. Caleb giggled in the other room, and I watched her moving a little pair of overalls like a puppet, much to his amusement.

Maybe Roman was right. The darkness in his world left plenty to cry about, and happier times like these just might be the only reprieve from the endless storm sweeping through the Grizzlies MC and everyone in it.

Julie sprinted ahead of us in the park, carrying Caleb all over the place as he laughed, helping him keep his unsteady footsteps way longer than he could've done naturally.

She made a good grandma for sure – not a huge surprise, I guess, given the way her son had taken to his boy. By the end of it, we were all dead tired, resting on a blanket she'd brought along with some snacks.

Afterward, we all drove back to her place, and she tried to help load the boxes of extra clothes and baby supplies. Roman wouldn't let her, insisting on doing it all himself.

Between what she'd given us and the club's donations, plus the stuff I'd left behind with Norm, we'd have a whole room filled to the brim with nursery and toddler goodies. It was enough for three kids.

“You'd better bring him back soon. Don't make me track you down, son,” Julie said before we left, wagging her finger at Roman. “You know I'll send Blackjack after you if I don't get a call. We go way back.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me like you always do,” he growled, not stopping to climb into the truck. “I'm busy as shit, ma, but you'll get more baby time. Don't worry. It's one big happy family now, and that's how I'm gonna keep it.”

“Make sure you do,” she said, a more serious gleam in her eyes. “Take care of Caleb. Sally too.”

I smiled and waved, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling my seat belt. Roman never said anything, he just backed the truck down the long cracked driveway and lifted his hand. Julie watched us the entire time, until we'd driven out of sight.

“I hope I have half as much energy when I'm her age,” I said, hoping to smooth things over. “I'm tired just thinking about all the work at home.”

“We'll get to it, babe. Piece by piece. We're not heading straight home.”

“No?”

“Fuck no. We've got one more stop to make. If you still don't know who the hell I am, then I'm gonna drill it into your pretty blonde head. You've seen ma – crazy, well meaning, and energy off the charts. That's the light. Now, it's only fair I show you the dark.”

I didn't know what the hell he was talking about. My blood pressure spiked, and a strange dread twisted in my stomach, mercilessly building the entire twenty minute drive to the huge, broken down warehouse.

We pulled into a long abandoned parking lot with a rusty, imperfect fence surrounding it.

They say some people are so sensitive they can sense phantoms, especially the sad and angry ones. I wasn't sure about that, but I definitely got an unshakeable, sick certainty in the pit of my soul the instant we drove in.

Something
terrible
had happened here. I knew it before he killed the ignition and ordered me out, pointing toward the corner side of the warehouse.

“Come on. Grab the kid and let's walk,” he growled, popping his door as soon as the engine went quiet.

“You're sure it's safe here?”

He snorted. “I wouldn't be bringing my old lady or my son here if it weren't. It's broad daylight. Besides, nobody's been fucking stupid enough to use this place as a rally point since the shit that went down years ago. Not after the media storm and the cops combing it.”

I held my breath, stepping out of the truck and reaching for Caleb, unbuckling his safety belt. The baby cooed tiredly in my arms, and put up a little fuss as the cool breeze hit us. He was way more interested in taking a well earned nap after running around with grandma than seeing some grown up drama at this worn down place.

Roman looked behind me, a few steps ahead, waving us forward. I went on, my heart pounding. We approached a small corner with a half-broken down fence, next to a decrepit loading dock.

He stepped a short distance past a wide gap in the rusty brown chain link fence, staring quietly at the pavement. I followed his eyes.

The concrete was broken. Faded graffiti circled a small bronze medallion with the Grizzlies MC logo branded in the middle, pounded into the concrete.

I couldn't make out anything except the choppiest hint of DAGGER in faded, rusty red paint, and a date that looked like it ended in the late nineties.

“This is where my old man met his maker,” he said, looking up and locking on my eyes. “Dagger got himself killed for the club. He left behind my poor ma and a really pissed off fourteen year old kid. Me.”

He thumped his chest. Lightning caused his face to twitch, like years of rotten memories rushed through him at once.

“I'm sorry,” I said, and I meant it. It was also all I could manage with the heavy emotions charging the air.

I'd never seen him like this. The dark, lonely look in his beautiful hazel eyes, his huge shoulders slightly slumped. I saw a man who'd been beaten by one of the few things he'd never control – the past.

I had to know. I swallowed, gathering my words, then clutched Caleb tight with the other arm as I laid a soft hand on his shoulder. “How did it happen? I mean, if you don't mind –“

“Bad deal went down here. The Nevada Scorps came over to pick up some nasty shit the club played mule to deliver. The Scorps were hot shit back before Reno and Vegas turned into neutral zones no MC could claim. They also liked to flip you the fucking bird and sting your ass raw as soon as you expected cash in hand. The fuckers tried to low ball the club for coke we were selling in the old days at a loss, right as we were getting our hands in other shit.”

Pausing, his face tightened, anger threatening to ripple through his features. “They ambushed the MC. Told 'em to take their shitty offer or else, and they had the manpower to back it up. My old man was a total hothead. Like father, like son, I guess.

“He was having trouble at home with ma and hitting the bottle too hard. She loved that man, and was proud to be his old lady, but he stepped in the typical mid-life crisis shit and went crazy. Started fighting with her, drinking like a bastard, probably fucking a few club sluts on the side. Something pushed him over the edge. He fucked up bad, and he lost his life. Right here.”

Roman stepped over the red paint, tapped the edge of the memorial with his boot.

I stared at him with wide eyes, and then looked back to the ground. I couldn't believe he was showing me the spot where his father died.

“It happened quick. You don't get second chances in this biz. He punched a Scorp, and they pulled their guns. Knocked his damned teeth out, three blows to the head. Blackjack was there with the old crew, and he found himself up against the wall too, a shotgun pressed against his chest. All the guys watched with rage boiling them alive while the fuckers took the coke, took the money, and kicked the shit out of my old man on the ground 'til he stopped breathing.”

Holy shit.
Hot tears ravaged my eyes just thinking about it. And he wasn't even done yet.

“They shredded his cut. That's the torn up leather you see framed behind the clubhouse's bar, the same one next to all the pictures of the old guys who weren't complete bastards when they were in their prime. The Scorps' Veep pulled out his hunting knife and flayed a strip of skin off dad's back too while he was dying – up and stole the bear he had on his skin. His blood ran all over the fucking place, swirled around the boots of every brother standing there. That's what Blackjack told me when I was old enough to handle it.”

“Sick! Roman, I'm sorry. I get it. Please. I don't need to hear anymore.” Caleb squirmed, and I loosened my grip, sorry for practically squeezing him to death while I imagined the nightmarish scene.

“We got back at 'em, of course. A little before my time prospecting, unfortunately. I'd have loved to crack the skull of the motherfucker who skinned him myself. Blackjack took care of that before I could, and the Scorps are just ancient history now.”

“Why? Why are you telling me all this?” I stared at his cold, dead face, trying to understand.

“My way of telling you I'm ready to rip my chest open and hand you my fucking heart, babe.” He stepped forward, laying a cool, thick hand on my cheek. “I also know how bad my dad fucked up. He snapped and got himself killed because he didn't respect his family enough to keep a lid on his shit, sort it out some other way. I
know
you got your doubts about me.”

I bit my lip, shaking off the last of the tears, unable to resist the urge to press my face into his palm. “I can change my mind, you know. Things were pretty fucked up. I was ready to walk away, ready to leave you behind for good –“

“And that's the point, babe. If it wasn't for the cartel, I got a bad feeling I would've missed a whole lot more of my son's life because you couldn't trust me.” His hand circled to my back, wrapping around my waist, pulling me and the baby to his chest. “I wanna fucking explode when I think about it. The only reason I don't is because there's no goddamned way I'll ever,
ever
let it happen again.”

“Roman...people make mistakes.”

Yeah, they did. My head kept spinning, ready to fly off and take the rest of me with it. I couldn't even comprehend right or wrong in this situation. Not anymore. We'd both screwed up bad, but he was
trying
to make amends.

Shouldn't I let him?

Shock and awe didn't begin to describe my reaction. I tucked Caleb carefully between us and craned my head, ready for a kiss.

He pulled away right before my lips touched his, brushing his stubble on my cheek. “Hold the fuck up. You have no idea how bad I want those lips on mine,” he growled.

“But I'm not gonna do it 'til it's fucking real. I meant what I said this morning – I wanna hear you
beg,
babe. I took you on a rollercoaster to show you the
real
me. Let it sink in. You can't change your mind in less than a day. You pushed me away this morning, and I'm not gonna fuck you over again by taking something that's only gonna screw this up for the long haul.”

“Come on. It's one kiss. I'm not saying I'm ready to fuck you, or anything.”

Shit.
Was I serious? I couldn't stop feeling his hard cock against my thigh, tense and wanting, making my body shake with need.

Real, genuine, dyed in lipstick and honey
need
. How the hell had we flip-flopped since morning? Suddenly, he was the cautious, conservative one, and it drove me fucking crazy.

“Yeah, you are,” he growled, reaching to fist my hair and pulling my lips to his.

We kissed long, hard, and hot. It was almost cathartic, some kinda exorcism written in love, able to banish a little of the evil hanging over this old, abandoned lot.

I moaned into his mouth, truly tasting him. My tongue whirled against his, led in a steaming, inescapable dance, plucking every nerve in my body to perfection.

Damn! Don't make me beg. He can't be serious about that.

His tongue moved against mine so hard my nipples throbbed. Hot blood rushed through my ears, drowning out everything, making me hear the thumping need in my own heartbeat.

I. Want. To. Fuck.

No, we couldn't, though. It wasn't that easy, and it surely couldn't happen here. I had to stop it there before we went further, especially with the sweet baby still in my arms. I pulled back, struggling to stabilize my knees, following him to the truck. I helped Caleb into his kiddie seat, then climbed in.

“Tasting you makes my dick jerk like a kid who's about to have his first fuck. You know that?” He looked at me in the passenger seat. My cheeks heated. “Still, you keep a lid on that shit 'til you're ready. You give me that tongue again, you'd better expect to get naked, girl.”

His hand slid down to my thigh, and his fingers pressed tight, pinching the autumn skirt on my cool skin. Instant fire.

Roman started the engine, but didn't put the truck into drive, looking into my eyes as he leaned over. “Let me make this crystal-fucking-clear – we're gonna do this husband and wife, happy family thing, and I'm excited as hell if you're on board. But when we do the other part – the part that's dirty, hard, and so fucking rough it'll leave you sore for the next week – you let me know. I don't do teasers. I don't do samples. If you wanna fuck me, you spread your legs and wrap 'em tight, because I'm not stopping 'til I've gorged myself on you, woman. I
will
kiss, suck, and fuck everything you've got, babe, and there's no off switch 'til my dick doesn't work.”

I wasn't sure what was going to overheat first. My tender thigh, beneath the place where his fingers drilled into my flesh, or my panties just a few inches over. I wouldn't be surprised to find scorch marks on them later. They'd been so thoroughly soaked they forced me to notice every time we were outside and the wind blew just a little bit too hard.

I was drowning, a little at a time, fighting my insane desire to bury the past by twisting our bodies together between the sheets.

“You're mine, babe, and only mine. Every way. All the time. You understand? That's the only word that's ever been as heavy as the ones I spoke when I got my patch.
Mine.
”