Sanctuary (Freaks MC Book 2) (29 page)

What would be perfect now would be a baby, although after a year of trying there was still no sign. Every month, she would sit in the bathroom and cry quietly to herself for a while, grieving the loss of something that never was, then pick herself up and get on with her life. Deke had offered to be tested, but she’d said no. That wasn’t the way she wanted to go. They would just carry on as they were.

Their lives were full, and she really was contented with her big, slightly dysfunctional, Freak family.

She tapped his shoulder as they approached an old mom and pop diner that was a favorite of theirs, and, nodding, he pulled over.

“Something on your mind, baby girl?” Deke led her to their usual table by the window.

It never ceased to amaze Emma just how well he read her. “Kind of.”

“You gonna share?”

Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled out the letter. “I got this.” She didn't know why she hadn't just thrown it away and forgotten all about it.

Frowning, he read it, then looked up and smiled. “Local kid made good, huh? You gonna do it?”

“
I don't know. If I accept the commission, I'll be away for a month at least. And I've never attempted something on this scale before.”

“
It pay well?”

Emma shrugged. “I guess. But I haven't been back to Boston for over ten years.”

“So maybe you should go and reconnect with your family. Show 'em that what a success you are.”

“
My family is here.”

He grinned and took her hand. “So you don't want to do this. You don't want every pupil in your old school to see a mural painted by you every time they walk into the gym.”

“I hated that school, Deke. I was a freak. The skinny, weird kid that never fit in and spent all her time dodging the bullies.” She took the letter from him and screwed it up. “No, I don't want to do it.”

“
And your family? You don't want to see them?”

She shrugged. “I was a freak at home, too.”

“Ain't nothing wrong with being a Freak, baby girl.”

“
No, I know that now.” She smiled. “I guess all it took was finding a freak to love.”

“
You never talk about your life back then.”

“
Says the man with no history.” She laughed. “I guess it doesn't matter. That was then. The only thing that's important is now.”

His smile was a little sad as he brought her fingers to his lips. “I want our kids to have the sort of childhood that they wanna talk about as adults.”

She wanted that, too. A childhood full of love, laughter and acceptance. “They will.” She smiled as the waitress walked over to take their order. “It will be perfect.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

The yard was silent save for the singing of the birds in the tree behind the swing. The two men sat in companionable silence on the wooden bench, enjoying the last of the day’s sun.

Samson shifted in an attempt to ease the ever-present ache in his back. This was his life now. The dull ache in his back and shoulder. The sharp stabbing pain in his thigh that, even after all these years, caught him by surprise.

Tiny glanced over and frowned at his brother’s discomfort, but said nothing. Samson smiled to himself. His brother was never a big talker.

Behind them, through the kitchen window, their old ladies could be heard chatting away as they sat at the kitchen table. Unlike their old men, they talked. All the fucking time. About everything.

It had freaked him out, and if he was honest, pissed him off, when he discovered just what Emma and Beth discussed. But typically, his old lady had laughed and reassured him that she would never disrespect him, but when she said that she and her best friend shared everything, that was exactly what she meant. Sometimes he wondered if Beth knew more about what was going on in Emma’s head than he did.

He stole a glance over to his brother and closest friend. He couldn’t imagine telling him about feelings and shit. Although sometimes it would have been nice to talk to someone.

He knew it wasn’t always easy for his old lady. She loved spending time with Tiny and Beth’s kids, and adored the twins, but she hadn’t been able to hide the look of longing as she cuddled them, and he knew that there were times when she’d cried herself to sleep.

It was his fault. Despite her asking him not to, he’d had tests done. The results had shown he had ‘poor quality sperm.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He’d wanted to punch that smug-faced doctor when he’d said that a drop in sperm count wasn’t uncommon in men of his age, and then went on to suggest that a life in the saddle could be a contributory factor.

He hadn’t told her. How could he? How could he tell her that, yet again, he’d failed her? So they kept on trying. And he kept on clinging to the doctor’s final words. “Conception isn’t impossible, just unlikely.”

“
Something on your mind, brother?”

Samson shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Tiny gave a single nod, and an opportunity to offload was lost. “I’m going back inside.”

“
Okay, I’ll be there in a while.” For some reason, he didn’t want his closest brother and oldest friend to see him wince as he got to his feet or limp to the door. It was irrational, he knew. Tiny knew how badly he’d been injured in the past. But he hated the thought of his brother seeing him so broken.

Broken.

That’s what he was. Damaged, imperfect. Couldn’t even function properly. He’d always believed that Emma deserved better than him, but never more so than now.

The door opened, and he looked up and smiled as Beth walked out and sat next to him. “Hey. You okay?”

“Was going to ask you the same thing. What’s going on, Samson?”

“
Nothing, I’m fine.”

“
Sure you are. That’s why you barely spoke a word through dinner, and can hardly bring yourself to look at Emma. She’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

“
S’nothing. Really.” He looked out across the yard, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m okay.”

Samson closed his eyes, and she reached out and touched his hand. “You have always been there for Tiny and me. Let me be there for you. I’m not stupid. I know there’s something going on in that head of yours. Talk to me, Samson.”

“Emma say something?”

“
Just that you had been real quiet recently. She’s worried that you want out.”

“
Of course I don’t want out! Jesus, why would she think that?”

“
You tell me.”

“
I dunno. I guess I feel guilty, she deserves better. Not a broken-down old man like me.”

“
Deke Samson! You are not a broken-down old man. Why the hell would you think that?”

“
Because it’s true. My back’s fucked, I limp, I….”

Beth squeezed his hand. “You are no more broken now than you were when you moved in with her. You are the toughest man I know. Anyone else would never have survived the shit you’ve been through. What’s this really about?”

He swallowed and shook his head, fighting the urge just to blurt it out. He wasn’t a real man. He couldn’t even give his old lady a kid. “Don’t push me on this, Beth. Please.” He couldn’t stand to see the pity on her face.

“
If you won’t talk to me, talk to Emma.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “How about you help me haul my exhausted ass back into the house. Or are you too broken to do that?”

“
What? You a comedian now?” He grinned and, getting to his feet, held out his hand to her and led her slowly back to the house.

The bed in Tiny and Beth’s guest room was one of the comfiest he’d ever slept in. Despite this, he couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t just his aching back keeping him awake. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of his old lady holding Imogene or Alice flashed into his mind. He pulled her closer and pressed his lips against her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“
Mmmm.” She stirred at the sound of his voice. “Why?”

He took a deep breath. This was where he lost her. “I’m sorry that I can’t give you a kid. I wish I could, but I can’t. It’s my fault.”

“S’ok. Go to sleep.” Emma was already drifting back to sleep.

“
No. No it’s not.” He shoved her off him, startling her awake. “It’s my fault. I’m never gonna be able to give you a kid.” He sat up and, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, rested his forearms on his thighs. “I’m sorry.”

“
Deke.” Emma knelt up and pressed herself against his back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”

“
I had tests.” He felt her body go stiff. “I know you didn’t want me to. But I needed to know.” He sighed. “And now I do. It’s my fault. I ain’t a real man.”

“
Oh shit. Why didn’t you just listen to me, you big oaf.” She shifted and sat next to him. “I need you to listen to me now. The reason I didn’t want you going for tests was because I knew this is how you’d feel, if it turned out you had low sperm count or something. I love you. I will never love anyone else. I’m not going to say it doesn’t matter, because it does. I’d love us to have kids. You’d be a great dad. The best. But we don’t always get what we want, Deke.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she raised her hand to silence him. “You
are
a real man. You’re
my
real man. And none of this is your fault.”

“
The doc said there were things we could do.”

“
No.” She slipped her arm through his. “We’re okay as we are. I meant what I said when I said that I was okay with it just being the two of us.”

“
You ain’t mad?”

“
Well. I’m a little pissed that you went and got tested without talking to me first.”

“
Ain’t what I meant.”

“
No, I know. Of course I’m not mad, and I don’t want you beating yourself up about this.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “What did the results actually show?”

He swallowed. “I have low quality sperm. Half the little fuckers don’t even know what direction to swim in.”

“But there’s a chance one could make it?”

“
Yeah. There’s a chance.”

She grinned and climbed onto his lap. “I guess we’ll have to fuck twice as much then.”

As the weight of the past few weeks fell away and all those niggling aches and pains seemed to disappear, he realized that, yet again, he’d underestimated her. Emma was never going to walk away from him, just like he’d never walk away from her.

Maybe they’d never make a baby and there would be times when that would make her sad. But maybe they would.

Just maybe, one of his stupid, slow sperm would turn around and swim in the right direction. Shit. That would be perfect.

But, either way, as long as they had each other, everything would be just fine.

TWENTY-EIGHT

All was not well in their little home. Deke closed his eyes as the sound of cupboard doors slamming filled the house, and wondered vaguely whether Emma was hunting for a knife. Certainly, the way things were going, one of them was going to wind up dead, and he was pretty sure it was going to be him.

A loud crash and a stream of curses caused him to open his eyes, and he debated the merits of going to see if she was okay, then, closing them again, thought better of it.

He’d been laid up for just over a week after putting his back out by, of all the stupid things, bending down to pick up one of the cats, and was under strict instructions to rest for at least two weeks. No work, no lifting and no riding.

He wasn’t dealing well, and Emma had been on the receiving end of his bad temper for the last few days.

In the past she’d always dealt with him, and his moods, in her usual calm manner. This time however, she was having none of it. As a result it had been a week of yelling, cursing and stony silences.

The cursing stopped and silence descended once again. She was crying, he knew. Shit. He really should go in there.

He knew that if he stood up, it would reawaken the pain in his back, and he really hated to see chicks cry. But even the thought of a bread knife embedded in his chest wasn’t enough to stop him. She was upset, and it was his fault. Grunting in pain, he struggled to his feet. He was going to have to man up and make this right.

“Emma?”

“
Leave me alone.”

“
C’mon, baby girl.” He hobbled over to where she was on her knees, sweeping up the shattered glass. “I’m sorry. I shouldn‘t have yelled.”

“
Just fuck off, Deke.” She sniffed and roughly wiped away her tears. “I can’t stand to even look at you right now.”

“
Emma. Just leave that. Please, let me make it right.”

“
What’s the point?” She carried on sweeping, refusing to look up at him. “Everything I do is wrong.”

“
I’ve apologized. What more do you want me to do?”

She shrugged. “I want you to leave me alone.” She stood and emptied the dustpan into the bin.

He touched her arm, and she brushed his hand away. “What part of fuck off and leave me alone don’t you understand?”

He could feel the anger rising. He was really trying here. “You might wanna watch your mouth, darling.”

“Or what?” She turned to face him. God, she was hot when she was angry. “You gonna yell at me some more? Let’s face it, that’s all you’ve done for the last week.” She pushed past him.

“
Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“
Out.”

“
Out where?” Ignoring the fact that his back was now screaming at him, he followed her. “I said, out where?”

“
Anywhere but here.” She grabbed her coat and flounced out, slamming the door behind her.

“
Shit.” He slammed his fist into the wall. “Fuck.” Now she’d be bitching about the hole in the drywall when she came home… If she came home.

He must have fallen asleep. He guessed that was what Oxy and Jack did to a person. Emma was home and preparing dinner. He was a little pissed that she hadn’t woken him, but given the current situation, decided to let it ride. Struggling to his feet, he hobbled into the kitchen. “Hey.”

She turned and gave him a tiny smile. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry I yelled.” He reached out and touched her arm. She stiffened slightly but didn’t brush his hand away like before. “Are we okay?”

“
I guess.” She didn’t sound okay, but he decided not to push her. Instead he eased himself carefully onto the dining chair and watched as she prepared dinner. She looked tired and a little pale. He guessed she hadn’t been sleeping any better than him. She put a plate in front of him, and, sitting down, began pushing her own food around.

“
Not hungry?” He frowned. She hadn’t taken more than a couple of mouthfuls before pushing her plate away.

“
Not really.” She shrugged. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

He nodded and resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. She looked so sad, and it was all his fault. “How ‘bout I sleep in the guest room tonight. At least that way one of us will get a decent night’s sleep.”

“No. It’s fine, really. You’re not keeping me awake.”

“
You sure?”

She looked at him and smiled. “I’d rather lay awake with you than sleep without you. You may have been acting like a douche, but I still love you.”

“I love you too, baby girl.”

Over the next few days, his back improved. So much so, that by the end of the following week he could not only put his boots on without help, but he could also ride again.

While his mood had improved considerably, Emma’s had not. For the life of him, Deke couldn’t figure out why. She wasn’t eating properly and seemed tired and distant all the time, and whenever he asked what was wrong, she practically snapped his head off.

Maybe taking care of him had been a glimpse into the future. He had over ten years on her and wasn’t a young man anymore. He couldn’t really blame her if she wanted to bail.

He parked his bike next to her cage and let himself in through the front door and headed into the kitchen. She turned and smiled. “Hey, dinner will be a while.”

“Okay. I’m gonna take a shower.”

As he turned, she raised her hand. “Deke, wait. Sit down. Please.”

He sat. “What’s up?”

“
Nothing. Everything's perfect.” Her smile got wider as she placed a small strip of white plastic on the table in front of him.

“
Is this?” He couldn’t take his eyes off those two little blue lines. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

She grinned. “Yep. It means that you’re going have to put up with me being a moody bitch for the next few months.”

He laughed and, standing up, pulled her into his arms. “I guess I’d better make an honest woman out of you then. Marry me, little witch.”

~ oOo ~

Deke wasn’t going to let the grass grow under his feet when it came to this wedding. They didn’t have a lot of money, and there was part of him that was scared that she'd come to her senses and take off, if he didn't marry her quick.

There had been a brief standoff, as Emma refused, point blank, to be married in the clubhouse. A compromise, however, was quickly found. The ceremony would take place in their back yard, attended by only their closest friends, followed by a party at the clubhouse for everyone else.

He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as she stood in front of him. She had never looked more beautiful. Practical as ever, she had managed to find a dress that she could ride in. He has no idea where she had found it, but it wouldn’t have looked out of place in London in the Sixties. Short and white, with long sleeves and modest scoop neck, it was completely plain with no lace or frills and the only adornment were the ever-present bangles. She had completed the look with Sixties-style, knee-length white boots.

He wasn’t sure about this stuff, but it didn’t look like she was wearing makeup, apart from, maybe, some mascara. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders in thick, colorful waves, and when he reached out and touched, it felt like silk. “You look so beautiful, baby girl.”

She smiled and touched his hand. “Looking pretty good yourself, big man.” He actually looked as he always did; his only concession had been to swap his wife beater for a black button-down shirt. “I love you, Deke Samson.”

Deke unfolded the sheet of paper, gave a rueful grin, then handed it to Emma. “Was gonna read this to you. But I’d prefer it if you read it in private. You know how I feel about you. If I live to be hundred, I will never understand why you wanna be with a man like me. I can’t give you shit, baby girl, and I know you’ll tell me otherwise, but you deserve better. So all I wanna say is, thank you. And yeah, I love you.” He slipped the plain gold band onto her finger. “And I ain’t ever letting you go.”

Emma smiled. “I love you, too. I have tried to think of what it is I want to say to you today, and there‘s a million things I could say. But honestly, it all boils down to that. I love you, Deke and I’m yours forever.”

The Minister frowned. “That’s it?” He shrugged. “Well, in that case. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now make out.”

Laughing, Deke picked her up and kissed her fiercely to the sound of his brothers cheering.

~ oOo ~

“
Shit.” Emma dismounted and gasped at what looked like hundreds of bikes parked on the lot at the side of the clubhouse. “When you said a few brothers from out of town would be coming, I had no idea you meant this many.”

Deke grinned and hung her helmet on the handlebar, while she ran her fingers through her hair, checking her reflection in the rear view mirror. “They’re all here to see the chick that managed to tie me down.”

“Oh god. That’s not what they think is it?”

“
Relax, baby girl. They’ll take one look at you and see exactly why I wanted to settle down.” He touched her cheek. “You ready?”

She nodded and, with her hand in his, followed him inside. She swallowed nervously. “Deke…”

“I’ll stay close by, I promise. Just remember they’re here for you.” He kissed her on the top of the head. I’ll just be over at the bar. Why don’t you go and sit with Beth and the kids. I know you’re itching to get your hands on those babies again.” He watched as she crossed the room to where Yaz was handing back the latest addition to the Taylor family back to Beth, then walked over to the bar, where Vince and Spike were in deep conversation. They looked up as he approached and he nodded. “Brothers.”

“
Congratulations, brother.” Vince hugged him and looked over to where Emma was sitting with Luke on her knee, chatting animatedly to Beth. “So you’re not missing the open road, huh?”

“
Do I miss the cold and the rain? Being so stiff after days in the saddle that I can hardly move? Weeks of sleeping on filthy mattresses in the back of clubhouses, or shitty motel rooms?” he laughed. “Only every fucking day.”

“
Shit. You love her that much?”

“
Yep. Comes a time when you have to make a choice. And that little girl over there was one of my better ones. Yeah, I miss the road. Probably always will. But truthfully, Vince, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

~ oOo ~

Much to her surprise, Emma found herself having fun. She had never been much of a party animal and hated to be the center of attention. But everyone was so nice that it was impossible not to enjoy herself.

Normally if there were patches from out of town around, she’d stick close to Deke, but now she mingled with the guests, secure in the knowledge that he was watching from his position at the end of the bar. No one would disrespect her while he was watching. Seattle’s latest VP would take down anyone who as much as looked at her the wrong way.

Eventually she found herself on the ratty old sofa in the corner with Spike and Abigail. The little girl had fallen asleep with her head on his lap. Her thumb in her mouth and her fingers tangled in her curls, the same way she had slept as a baby. Emma smiled. “Why don’t you go and enjoy the party? I can watch her.”

“
Nah, I’m fine. She’ll wake up if I move an’ she’s had a busy day.” They both looked up as Deke approached, and Spike sniggered. “Mighta known that big, ugly fuck wouldn’t trust me alone with you. S’up bro?”

“
Not much.” Taking Emma‘s hand, he pulled her to her feet. “Think it’s about time I took you home.”

~ oOo ~

Deke lay on his back and wrapped his arms around his wife.

He grinned. His wife. This smart, beautiful woman had actually agreed to marry him. He’d always believed that it took a special kind of woman to love a nomad, but it took an exceptional one to make that nomad give up the road. “So. No regrets, Mrs. Samson?”

~ oOo ~

Emma smiled, and, turning her head slightly, kissed his chest. How could she regret marrying him? He had given up so much to be with her. Whenever she thought about it, it felt like her heart would burst.

No, she would never regret marrying this funny, kind, gentle, giant of a man. “Mmmm, let me think. Nope, Mr. Samson. No regrets at all.”