Snake Charmer (Rawkfist MC Book 2) (23 page)

Journey

I
remind myself how joining the Rawkfist
Motorcycle Club is what Donovan wants. That way, when he smiles at me with a
split lip, I don’t go homicidal. Instead, I only caress the shiner he’s
sporting on his right eye. He looks like a guy who lost the title match, rather
than a dummy that chose to get whooped by old men. I shake my head at the
stupidity of the club’s desire to bang up their new recruits.

“I survived it,” Jared told me earlier,
“and so will Donovan.”

I’d rolled my eyes when he made his
announcement. Of course, Donovan would survive. The club couldn’t afford to
kill their new recruits. Young men were at a premium, and Court struggled to
find these six new idiots, including the dummy I love.

“Was it fun getting smacked around?
Should I start hitting you?” I ask Donovan.

“They pulled their punches. You
probably wouldn’t.”

I balk at his comment and shake my
head. “You’re the father of my unborn child. Of course, I’d pull my punches. No
nut shots either.”

Wrapping his arms around my shoulders,
Donovan kisses me. He tightens his hold for a moment, deepening the kiss before
remembering we aren’t alone in this manly shack.

I look around at the dark wood and old Harley
pictures decorating The Rock Tavern. If I were a guy, this bar would have my testosterone
surging. I spot the bravado in Donovan’s gaze as he holds me against him.

“I’m proud of you,” I whisper. “Doing
what you want and doing it for yourself is a big step. No more following
Grandpa’s orders. You as your own man is incredibly sexy.”

“I’ll never stop putting you first.”

“Like I’d sit back and let you do that
anyway.”

“You’re why I’m here. Being your man is
why I can be my own. Does that make sense?”

“Sure, why the heck not?”

Finding a quiet corner, Donovan keeps
me blocked with his body while he kisses me something fierce. I want to rip off
his shirt and taste his warm flesh. I want to lick his bruises and fuck away
his worries.

Of course, with my father being in the
same building, I can’t drop to my knees to get a taste of the erection Donovan
is now sporting.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,”
Donovan says, nuzzling my forehead with his lips. “I don’t know if I tell you
that enough.”

“I haven’t been keeping score, but I
will from now on.”

“Smartass.”

“If my dad asks, we got pregnant the
old fashioned way. You know, a stork showed up with a baby after watching us
have sex.”

“I’m not telling him a single damn
thing that involves his little girl and sex. Now that I’m a dad, I get how he
might not take so kindly to someone deflowering his angel.”

“You’re grossing me out with that angel
talk.”

“His baby girl, so sweet and virginal,”
Donovan murmurs, fighting a smile. “A delicate flower is what you are.”

“Knock it off or I’ll deflower you
right here.”

“Not much of a threat.”

“You say that now, but wait until my
father sees me deflowering you. I suspect you’ll get another beating from an
old dude today.”

“It’s really bugging you, isn’t it?” he
asks, tapping his bruised eye.

“Frick yeah, it is. They beat on my
man. I want revenge. I want to lock them inside this bar and burn the place to
the ground. I want to hear their screams while you deflower me in the car.”

Smiling, he curls a lock of my hair
around his finger. “I’d feel the same way if someone hurt you. I’m also sorry I
got you so damn horny. Look at how you can’t stop talking about deflowering.”

“I wish I brought my vibrator with me,”
I taunt. “I’d slip off to the ladies’ room and fix my problem. Huh, I wonder if
I can still do it.”

Donovan’s smile fades. “No way will you
get off while I suffer in silence.”

“You can slip off to the boys’ room.”

“What are you two talking about?” Jared
asks, choosing to pick the absolute worst time to jump into the conversation.

“Masturbation,” I say, calling him on
his bluff. “Thoughts?”

Jared shrugs. “I’m a fan, but I prefer
your mother in my bed more.”

“You win.”

“Thought so,” Jared says, giving me a
wink. “I’m getting the hang of talking to my girls.”

“You say that now but wait until
Justice gets a little tipsy and starts babbling. No doubt you’ll lose your
ability to form words. You can’t even imagine the crap that’ll come out of her
mouth.”

“I can guess.”

“You really can’t.”

Jared looks rather curious to find out,
and I wouldn’t be surprised to find him ordering Justice a shot of whiskey
later.

“You did good today, cop,” Jared tells
Donovan before patting him hard on the shoulder.

When Donovan grimaces, I wonder if
Jared enjoyed pounding on my man.

“Burn it to the ground,” I mutter, but
my father only smiles and walks away.

“He pulled his punches even more than
Court did.”

Glancing up at Donovan, I study his
face to see if he’s lying for my benefit. His smile leaves me convinced.

“I love my dad,” I whisper.

Donovan smiles wider and tugs me back
into an embrace. Despite his good mood, I know he worries about this new
direction in his life. For his entire life, Donovan’s been a follower, keeping
his head down and doing what he’s told. Having stepped out from behind his
family’s name, he’ll now sink or swim based on his choices rather than those of
others.

Donovan

I
love the protective gaze Journey wears
when she spots Joe and Ned at the bar. Even wearing a small baby bump, she’s
ready to destroy anyone who harms those she loves. I couldn’t have fallen for a
better wife and mother than this woman right here.

Corralling her away from the old men
before she accidentally throws something, I end up in a hallway lined with
pictures. I spot one with Jared and a very young Court.

“Jared’s looked the same for decades,”
I say, studying the image from probably ten years back.

“The mustache gives him eternal youth.
He’s so handsome. I can see why Christine lost her panties for him when she was
young,” she says, running her finger over her father’s stache. “And why she
lost them again when we moved back here.”

Leaving the photo, Journey runs her
fingers over the names below the many framed pictures. She pauses on a picture
with the words “Chuck Hull” printed.

“That’s your dad.”

“Supposed to be. Mom changed her story
a lot. Sometimes, she knew he was. Other times, she knew he wasn’t.
Occasionally, she said she wasn’t sure who fathered me. I never knew if she was
playing games or really couldn’t remember. Never mattered anyway. He didn’t
have any interest in me when I was born, and he died before I was old enough to
have any interest in him.”

“How did he die?”

“Stupid shit. He was driving to Norfolk
when a cop tried pulling him over for speeding. Chuck didn’t want to stop and
went on a wild chase like he was starring in an action flick. Well, you can
imagine how that ended.”

Journey squints at the picture. “I’m no
geneticist, but he sure as hell looks like your dad. The nose, eyes, chin. It’s
all right there.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, it does. Explains why you have a
rebel side to you. All of these years, you’ve shoved it aside, but it’s there.”

I look at the picture of Chuck Hull
standing next to the former club president, Daryl Rose. They both died stupid,
but I doubt they’d see it that way. Despite appearing stupid or crazy to people
like the Mooney family, the men lived the way they wanted.

“I guess I need to buy a Harley,” I
mutter, looking at the man I’d never let myself wonder about.

“Only if you get a sidecar for me.”

Grinning at her, I ask, “Don’t you want
to ride bitch on the back?”

“Nope. I can’t play on my phone if I’m
holding on tight and praying not to fall off.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d figure it out.”

Journey places her hands on my cheeks.
“I think if the asshole had lived long enough to see you looking so much like
him that he’d have wanted to be around for you. I’m not saying he would be a
good father, and you’d probably think of him pretty much the way you do now. I
still think he would have given it a shot if he’d known you were his. I don’t
know what you looked like as a baby, but he’d have seen the resemblance
eventually.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“The men in this club know you’re his,”
she says, glancing around. “They see it the way I do. So did the Mooneys.
Everyone had you figured out because of the resemblance. I think even if they
weren’t desperate for fresh blood in the club, Joe and Ned would be happy to
have Chuck Hull’s son around. You’ve got Rawkfist MC blood running through your
veins. I bet your father wouldn’t have been able to deny you, even if he was a
fricking feces fricker in every other way.”

“That was beautiful.”

“Well, I know how much you love when I
say ‘frick,’ so I made sure to say it a lot for my beat up baby.”

Journey caresses my bruised eye again,
and I know she’ll seethe about the beating long after I’ve healed.

“Journey!” Justice screams from the
next room.

We hurry around the corner to find
Justice standing with a smile. “There you are. They said they didn’t know where
you were and had no way to contact you. I thought of calling, but this seemed
easier.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I wanted you to know we’re
here.”

Journey rolls her eyes, yet everything
about her demeanor improves with her family nearby. She no longer wants to kick
old man ass but would rather gossip about kicking old man ass.

Leaving her with Christine, Justice,
and a fake ID flashing Poppy, I walk around to talk to the men I’m expected to
consider brothers now.

I end up with Emmett, who looks to have
been hit by a car.

“Did they take it easy on you? Will you
always be coddled?” he asks after putting back a shot of whiskey.

“I didn’t fight back.”

“My mama told me to never let anyone
push me around. Wasn’t the best advice, but I can’t deny my mama’s wishes.”

“Don’t call me coddled again,” I
mutter, ignoring his mama talk.

“Who is that?” Emmett asks, staring across
the room. “Never mind.”

Before I know who he’s talking about,
Emmett makes a beeline for Poppy. She leans against the wall, staring upward,
fully in bored teenage mode. I hurry after Emmett before he does something he
can’t undo. Penis reattachments apparently aren’t easy or cheap.

“Huh?” she says, staring at Emmett.

“My name is Emmett.”

“I had a dog with that name. We put him
down when he got too needy.”

Onto Poppy’s attitude from moment one,
Emmett only smiles. “What’s your name?”

“Poopy Manhater. Feel free to look me
up on Facebook.”

“Emmett,” I say, elbowing him hard.
“She’s sixteen.”

Never even looking at me, the man only
rests a hand on the wall next to Poppy and leans forward.

“For now, you’re sixteen. One day,
you’ll be legal, and I’ll make you scream for mercy in my bed.”

“I don’t speak fluent redneck,” Poppy
says without missing a beat, “but I sense you’re saying I have two years to get
a restraining order. Oh, and buy a crate of pepper spray. Thanks for the heads
up, Hoss.”

“My dad’s name is Hoss,” he says,
finally frowning.

“My dad’s name is That Guy Who Shoots
Rednecks For Fun. It’s kinda long, but his parents were weird that way.”

Smiling again, Emmett nods. “See you in
two years.”

Poppy frowns at him as he disappears
into the crowd. Her gaze finds me, and I think to explain.

“I’m telling on you,” Poppy says,
shaking her index finger at me. “Journey will turn you into cat food, and the
cats will eat you and shit you out, and then Hal will eat their shit, and then
he’ll shit you out. I’d say as futures go, yours won’t be bright enough to wear
shades.”

“So that cat food thing is common
knowledge, huh?”

Poppy smiles at me before glancing in
the direction of Emmett’s voice booming over the loud music.

“He isn’t going to kill me, is he?”

“No. I think he’s looking to breed.”

“His babies would be huge, and I have
small hips. It’ll never work. You ought to explain that to him. Maybe draw
pictures if words prove too difficult for the big guy.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Poppy sizes me up in the Earlham woman
way. “If I’m not intimidated by you, why would he be?”

“The chance that I’d kill you is at
nearly zero. Emmett’s chances of an early grave are considerably higher.”

“Nearly zero?” she balks, her eyes
lighting up. “Now I really am telling.”

“Go ahead. I give your sister orgasms
while you give her headaches. Her choice will be fairly simple.”

Poppy’s smile fades, and her eyes
narrow. I spot a hint of Journey in her expression, except with fuller cheeks
and less menace. I know Poppy is supposed to be scary, but she looks like a kid
dressed up in her mommy’s big girl scowl.

“You’re lucky you knocked up my
favorite sister, or I’d hurt you, former cop turned criminal.”

“That’s the kind of classy talk that
brings boys like Emmett to your yard. You might want to put a sock in it when
around the club.”

“Don’t you threaten me,” she says,
ready to laugh. “I’ll beat you down.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“You made a Kelis reference. Now I am so
definitely telling.”

“You made the same reference three days
ago to Felix. If you tell on me, I’ll rat you out too.”

“I’m a sixteen-year-old girl. I’m
allowed to be stupid.”

“Yeah, but you were corrupting an
impressionable preteen.”

Poppy loses her smile. “Well played,
former cop.

Spinning away with her blonde hair
flying, Poppy hurries to her sisters sitting in a booth. After a little
whining, she points at me. Journey stands up and walks in my direction. I’m not
sure what to expect. I do know my woman makes frowns sexy.

“Tormenting children?” she asks. “I
worried you didn’t have the father deal down pat, but you’ve proven capable of
dealing with Poppy. I’ve never found you sexier than when you stare down the
Queen of Bitchy.”

“If we have a daughter, you know she’ll
end up just like that. There’s no way she won’t, and I think we should probably
start preparing.”

“Our kids will be wonderful.”

“That’s what I just said, but we really
should stock up on earplugs now.”

Journey’s eyes are bright and blue as
she smiles up at me. “We’re having a baby.”

For the first time since she told me
the news, I feel the weight of this change in our life. I don’t know if I
injured my brain today, but I’m finally aware of how I’m never returning to the
sheriff’s department. The bland ranch house will soon belong to someone else.
No more quiet, lonely nights with only my dog to keep me company.

Journey and I stuck, despite our lack
of relationship finesse. We have a kid on the way and a kid at home. I’m
keeping this woman, and she won’t let me go.

My past is littered with lazy and easy
decisions. My present will see a lot of hard, uncomfortable changes. The
future, though, is rife with possibilities. All because of Journey Sheerer.