CHAPTER 9
I haven’t been able to tear my eyes away from my woman all night. How could I when watching her is better than anything going on in the party surrounding me? She’s fucking radiant and watching her interact with her best friend has her light shining even brighter.
I’ve caught glimpses of her light since the moment I met her. That is why I gave her the nickname that I did. But those little peeks into her soul have been brief.
Not tonight. She’s glowing for the world to see.
It makes me want to puff up my chest in triumph because I know that I have something to do with the way she’s sparkling from the inside out tonight. Having her on the back of my bike was life changing. I’ve never had someone ride with me, but it felt so damn right.
I never wanted the ride to be over, which isn’t a new feeling because I love the open road and the freedom my bike gives me, but it was so much more with Sioux’s arms wrapped around me. As much as I knew we needed to get to the compound, I was tempted to just drive right past and take her on an adventure.
I know there will be time for that later and I didn’t want to push the limits of what her body could handle. You need to work up to longer trips and I’m not willing to do anything to put her recovery in jeopardy.
And I’ll get to feel her wrapped around me again when I take her home.
Home.
She’s not ready to admit it, but it is our home. Soon I’ll be able to get her not only in our home, but in our bed. I can’t fucking wait until that happens.
“You’re gone for her, aren’t you?” Prodigal’s voice has me glancing away from my woman and looking at my brother as he leans against the bar next to me. “You’ve been watching her all night,” he points out with a shrug.
“You’ve been watching your old lady all night,” I lob right back at him.
“I know,” he smugly responds, not at all intimidated at being called out or embarrassed about it being true.
“She’s mine,” I tell him honestly, “and I think she’s finally coming around to admitting it to herself.”
“Why hasn’t it happened before now?”
There is genuine curiosity in his question, and it is written across his face when I look at him. Which is why I don’t haul off and punch him, VP or not. If he was being a disrespectful asshole that would be another story. I won’t tolerate anyone talking shit about my woman and their position in the club wouldn’t make a bit of fucking difference.
“She was scared of being hurt.” When Prodigal opens his mouth, I clarify by adding, “Emotionally. Then after she was shot, I didn’t want to push her while she was healing.”
“Makes sense,” he murmurs. “She’s good now?”
“Yeah,” I find myself smiling softly as I look back over at my woman, “she’s doing great. She’s about to finish up her physical therapy as long as everything is good at the next follow up with her doctor.”
Prodigal breathes a sigh of relief, “That’s great news.” He slaps me on the back and has to tear his eyes away from Wrenley to turn around and nod at the bartender for another beer. “I was worried and wanted to ask, but it was hard to bring up that day.”
I get what he means. The memory of what should have been a good day, one that raised a lot of money for a worthwhile charity, is tarnished by what went down. I hate that my woman was caught in the crosshairs, but I also know she wouldn’t have been anywhere than at Wrenley’s side, no matter the outcome.
Sioux is fiercely loyal like that. It’s something I love about her. It’s something that will also make her a great old lady.
I hope to earn that level of loyalty from my woman. I think I’m almost there. Patience, which has never come easy for me before, really does pay off. Apparently.
“You’re good for her,” Prodigal says, surprising the fuck out of me.
My voice drops an octave, the words laced with insecurity, “You think?”
“Fuck yes,” he grunts. “She’s a strong woman, but she needs someone at her back. She needs a safe place to let her guard down. And she deserves it because she was there for Wrenley when no one else was.”
There’s something in Prodigal’s voice that has me looking at him, really looking at him, and recognizing the shadows in his eyes. “They’ve been friends for a long time,” I hedge because I do know that much.
Prodigal nods slowly. “Sioux was there for Wrenley after Jessica was killed and her parents lost themselves in their grief. My woman didn’t just lose a sister that day, she lost her whole family.”
I’m a little stunned by his words, but I’m also not surprised he’s never talked about it before now. Prodigal holds things close to the vest. He’s not alone in that shit either. I’ve avoided talking about my woman with my brothers because I didn’t want their shit…or their pity.
I knew what I needed to do and was resolute. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy.
Maybe I should have leaned on my brothers a little more, given them more credit.
At least the ones who understand how I feel about Sioux. I don’t know if the single brothers, who haven’t been blindsided by the other half of their soul, would understand.
I know I wouldn’t have before I saw my Firefly for the first time.
I nod, his words swirling around in my head. I knew she was strong and fierce, but knowing about how she gave Wrenley support when she needed it the most, while just being a kid herself, adds another layer to the woman she is.
“How are you feeling about the baby?” I keep my voice low, and my eyes locked on Sioux as she laughs and chats with Wrenley, her face animated and bright.
“I’m fucking terrified,” he admits, and I can’t help but chuckle.
The image of my woman pregnant with my child slams into me and it’s hard to catch my breath for a moment. If I think she’s glowing now and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, she’d be fucking incandescent while pregnant. I just know it.
Then the fear filters through. What if something were to go wrong? What if our enemies put a target on her back? What if I was a horrible father?
I might have had a great father, and I know my club brothers would be there to help me out however they could, but that doesn’t mean I would be able to hack it. Right?
Prodigal gives me shit, probably able to read the look on my face, “Yeah, you’re picturing your woman pregnant. Feel that terror? That shit is real.”
“There is a lot to fear,” I offer him.
“Yeah, and a lot to look forward to,” he adds.
We watch as Cherie makes her way over to our women and she’s immediately included in the conversation, even though I have a feeling the topic has changed. Something they’re talking about makes my woman blush.
Fuck, I want to make her blush and then see how far down the pink tint goes. My cock throbs behind the fly of my jeans and I hope that I get a chance to at least taste her tonight. I’ll take just a kiss.
Hell, I’d wish upon a damn shooting star right now.
It’s been difficult to be so close to her over the last few months and still wait. But it was for the best.
Now she knows me, the real me, behind the cut and the enforcer persona. I don’t think she was ever scared of me, but our connection is deeper than attraction and chemistry now. It’s something real, something worth holding on to.
Scythe saunters up to the bar and gives a chin lift to the newest prospect, Adam, who is doing a damn good job at serving tonight. When he leans against the wood top next to me and follows my line of sight, I can practically feel the way he’s smirking at me.
Not that I look at him.
I can’t when my Sioux is in the room.
“Oh, you’re stalking your women I see,” Scythe teases us, amusement dancing in his voice. “Creepy.”
I spare a glared glance at him, but he’s not at all deterred. Prodigal doesn’t even bother sparing him a look at all.
“I have to say,” Scythe starts, “Sioux is one sexy woman. I can see why you’d want to claim her.”
I growl, “Don’t even look at her.”
“I’m looking,” he taunts, but I also know he wouldn’t try to actually approach her.
He’s not fucking wrong either. She is a sexy woman and I’m a lucky bastard that she’s finally, fucking finally, starting to let her walls down and not fight against us being together.
There are times when I can see the shadows of pain in her eyes. I don’t know who fucked her over or any details, but I know it happened. I also know she doesn’t want me to slay those dragons, as in hunt down whoever they are and beat them until they can’t remember they were ever in my Firefly’s life to begin with.
My woman might guard her heart, but she’s not vengeful.
“Have you heard Driller is due home soon? He’s taking three months off this time instead of his normal one.” That gets my attention and I force myself to look away from Sioux to meet my brother’s gaze. He nods and adds, “At least that’s the intel I’ve gotten.”
“Is something wrong?” Prodigal is immediately in VP mode, his voice demanding, and his focus entirely on Scythe now. “Did something happen with his mom and sisters?”
“Not that I know of,” Scythe tells him, not at all cowed by the Prodigal’s intensity. “His eldest sister is graduating from high school this year. I would think he wants to be there for that. He spends so much time out on the rig,” there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice on our brother’s behalf, “maybe he just needs a damn break.”
I understand why Scythe is upset and it’s not directed at Driller. All his ire is for Driller’s mom. She was an old lady of the club since Driller’s father was a patched member until his unfortunate and untimely death. That was almost ten years ago now. I had just become a prospect when Driller was patched in.
He got his road name because he was working on an oil rig, even back then. But at the time he did shorter stints on rigs that were drilling new rigs. He liked the physical labor and the payout. To hear him talk about it, he was planning on only putting in a few years of work before coming back to shore permanently to open a tattoo shop.
Art was his first love, and he was talented as hell. I was looking forward to getting inked by him.
But then his dad died, and everything changed for him. His mom might have been an old lady, but she turned her nose up at the club and the life. Her loyalty to the DSMC ended the day her husband died.
She wouldn’t allow the club to help with anything, and I know Lucifer tried back then and throughout the years. It wasn’t about charity; it was about standing behind our brother’s family.
Instead of allowing the club to help take care of her, she put her son and our brother in the position of needing more money and working longer stints on a production rig. If he had been an only child, I don’t think he would have done it, but he couldn’t ignore the needs of his three younger sisters.
We’re all a little pissed at Driller’s mom and her self-serving selfishness. Driller looks more and more run down every time he has shore leave. He’s our brother, but you would hardly know it. He spends two months out on the rig and then is home for one month.
I’m afraid it’s killing him slowly. And I’m not the only one concerned about him.
After his last shore leave, Lucifer went and tried to talk to his mom again. From what I understand, since Scythe went with him as backup, there was a lot of screeching, accusations, and bullshit thrown around. All from her side.
Maybe this time he won’t go back out to the rig.
The club has never opened a tattoo shop because Lucifer knew it was his dream. Hell, I think our Prez has a building that he’s been holding on to just for that purpose.
A throat clears behind us, and we turn as Adam puts a beer down in front of Scythe. “Sorry, it got busy,” he offers, but there’s a hint of worry in his voice that all prospects have when they’re starting out and been given a task that they feel like they’re failing at.
Since the clubhouse isn’t just entertaining brothers, old ladies, and angels, I’m not surprised that he’s being run a little ragged behind the bar. We don’t always open up our parties to hangers on or people loosely associated with the club, but Lucifer thought it would be a good idea to show the RRMC that we’re not scared of them. That is, of course, if they’re keeping an eye on us the same way we are them.
“No problem, Prospect.” Scythe takes a long pull off the beer.
Adam’s voice is curious, “Did I hear you mention someone named Driller? Is he a brother? I don’t think I’ve met him.”
He glances around like he’s expecting to see a patched brother he doesn’t recognize. My heart breaks a little bit because Driller should be here with us. We all understand that he’s taking care of his family which is why we haven’t stepped in.
If he weren’t miserable and feeling like he had no other choice but to go out on the rig, that would be one thing. But he’s not following is dream because he feels like he has to take care of his mother and sisters.
If only she would accept the club’s help.
“Driller works out on a rig,” Prodigal explains. “He had already gone back out when you became a Prospect. When he’s back on dry land, he’ll be around.”
I share a look with Scythe and Prodigal, the three of us hearing what he’s not saying. We hope. We hope he’ll be around.
Adam nods before looking at Prodigal and then me. “Since I’m here, do you need another drink?”
I hold up the bottle I’ve been nursing all night and shake my head. “I have my woman riding with me tonight. I’m good.”
Prodigal smirks at me and he’s damn lucky that I don’t take a swing at him. “I’m good,” he dismisses Adam before turning back toward where our women are still chatting and laughing.
Scythe slaps my back and mutters, “It’s about damn time. I was going to see if any monasteries in the area have a space for you.” I scoff and Scythe stills next to me. “Please tell me you’re fucking your woman.”
“I’m not telling you shit,” I growl menacing at him, but he’s not deterred. Not even a little bit. “She’s still recovering, technically.”
Scythe’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline, disbelief written all over his face. He leans a little closer and hisses, “Are you telling me that you’ve given her all this time to heal and haven’t done anything with her while also turning down every advance the angels have made?”
“I will beat you until you’re a bloody heap on the floor if you ever suggest that I would go near an angel when I have my woman right where she belongs—at home,” my voice is threatening and ice fucking cold as I look right in Scythe’s eyes so he can see how serious I am.
He holds his hands up in surrender, one side of his mouth twisting up in a smirk. “I don’t think you could take me down like that, but point made.”
I narrow my eyes and growl, “I would have pure fucking rage on my side, brother, don’t test me.”
Prodigal chuckles from the other side of me and warns Scythe, “I would believe him. It’s one of those acts of God or adrenaline or something. Like when a mom can lift a minivan off her kid. It’s some sort of lizard brain, primal instinct, and it’s very real.”
“I don’t even know why I like you assholes,” I grumble.
Scythe bats his eyes at me like he’s a chick who is horrible at flirting. “Because we’re your brothers and you’re stuck with us.”
“Must be it,” I grunt.
When my eyes go back to my woman, I study her for a moment. She’s starting to look a little tired. She’s only had three drinks tonight, two of which I had Adam make a about a third of the strength. She hasn’t been taking pain med stronger than over the counter shit for a while, but I still wasn’t going to risk her not being able to wrap her arms around me for the ride home.
Was it partially selfish because the feel of her lush body pressed up against me is one of the best feelings in the world? You bet your fucking ass.
“Time to call it a night.”
I don’t even look at either of my brothers as I start to stalk toward my woman. Her head snaps in my direction and her blue eyes roam over my body. When she licks her lips as she looks me over, my cock fucking begs to be buried inside of me, throbbing with every beat of my heart.
She’s not ready for all that.
But it doesn’t mean we can’t give our woman a little taste while satisfying a fraction of my own hunger for her.
I’m looming over her before I even know it, but there isn’t even a hint of fear in her eyes as she tilts her head back and looks up at me. No. No fear.
Hunger.
Need.
Desire.
Acceptance.
The last emotion I see swirling in her eyes has me rocking back on my heels before I crouch down before her, never wanting her to think that I rule her when it’s clear as day that she’s the master of everything I am.
“Come on, Firefly,” my voice is a deep rumble, “it’s time to go home.”
Sioux pouts but nods her head slowly. When I hold my hand out for her, the feel of her soft skin as she slides her hand into mine has my heart pounding in my chest.
Yeah, I’m going to need a taste of her tonight. Or else I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive another day.