Eden's Joker (Devil’s Nightmare MC Next Generation, Book 7)

Chapter 42

War is in the air. Even locked in the big house atop the hill, I can sense it. And I’d have to be blind and stupid not to know that all those men down there aren’t getting ready for battle.

And there’s only one war that matters to Tyler and me.

The one against my family.

I’ve been doing all I can to ignore it, the way I’ve been ignoring every battle my dad and his brothers rode out on in the last year or so. There was no other choice but to ignore it and hope for the best. I’ve been trying to do that here too. But between the sheer number of men assembling here and the impassable terrain leading to this town, I don’t think this is a battle my family can win.

And I can’t live without my family.

Night is falling fast and the torches and fires that light up the town below during the night are going up. Tyler will be coming to have dinner with me soon. Whatever else he has going on, he always comes so we can have dinner at nightfall. Sometimes he stays afterwards. Sometimes he rushes back out.

I’ve showered and washed my hair, put on one of the dresses I haven’t worn yet—the silver one I was abducted in. No underwear, because whoever packed my stuff didn’t pack any, and no shoes.

My palms are sweaty, and my stomach is twisted in such knots I probably won’t be able to eat at all. I’m going to make my final bid for my family’s lives tonight, for the end of the war, for our lives—mine and Tyler’s—because I don’t see how we survive this battle intact.

But it’s probably going to go about as well as all my other attempts have gone so far.

I watch him ride up the hill, the cloud of dust behind him sparkling orange in the light of all the fires. The time for prepping is over, now I must just do.

He smiles as he watches me descend the wide staircase into the foyer. He always smiles at me these days. But his eyes are also always troubled, dark, frozen… like deep night in deep winter, not even the moon shining.

“You dressed up,” he says, eying me appreciatively, that fire his gaze always wakes in me rising and growing hotter.

“I did,” I say as I reach him and interlace my arm with his. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

“Me too,” he says. “Just not so much for food.”

The club women that bring the food have already come and gone. I’ve tried to speak to them when they come, but they either call me names or flat out ignore me.

The dining room smells delicious—some sort of mushroom soup, a pot roast, and potatoes. I think I can even smell something chocolaty for dessert, but that must be coming from the kitchen.

We sit at one end of the polished table, him at the head, me to his right. I serve the soup for both of us and offer him the basket of freshly baked bread rolls.

“You’re quite the housewife,” he says. “I think I’ll keep you.”

I set the basket down hard and look at him. This is as good an opening as any.

“Is that what you really want?”

He looks confused, the spoonful of soup he was bringing to his mouth suspended and dripping into the bowl. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

Simple enough answer to a simple question. But my question was far from simple.

“The war will make that impossible,” I say. “One way or another.”

His eyes are full of lightning as he stares at me. “Let’s make the best of the time we have then. Your words, not mine.”

He’s got me there. I have told him I’m making the best of a crappy situation while here. Repeatedly. But it’s gotten to be so much more than that.

He starts eating fast, as though he’s starving.

I sit back and cross my arms over my chest, mostly because I’m afraid my hands will start shaking. All my best laid plans of talking to him about this tonight, of making him understand are disappearing just like the soup off his plate.

“It’s best we don’t talk about it, Eden,” he says, breaking the silence totally unexpectedly.

“We have to talk about it,” I say. “It’s probably the only thing we have to talk about.”

“You want me to spare your father and his buddies, but I can only spare you,” he says. “What else is there to talk about?”

“I can’t watch my family die over a stupid revenge feud,” I say and stand up. “You can’t expect me to.”

He stands up too, towering over me.

“So what are you gonna do?” he asks. “Run away again?”

I look up at him, my hands shaking despite how tightly I’m squeezing them against my chest. “I’ll die with them.”

He gasps, the lighting in his eyes turning dark. I think we’re both equally surprised by my answer. But I find it’s the truth.

“I won’t let you do that,” he says.

“Not up to you,” I insist. “You’ll lose me either way if you go through with this.”

I look away as I say it, because it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever said. But I think it’s also the truth. It’ll be hard, but…

His hand shoots out and grabs a fistful of my hair, forcing me to look at him. “Are you threatening me?”

“Call it what you want,” I say, the sting of how hard he’s pulling my hair lending my voice the edge it needs to speak these words. “But you have to choose between me and your revenge. I know it’s a hell of a choice. But you have to make it.”

“I don’t have to do shit,” he mumbles and kneels down to kiss me, his hand still gripping my hair tight.

Even if he wasn’t holding me so tight, I’d still kiss him back. There’s no fighting this kiss. No backing away. It’s a kiss that hold years, decades, a lifetime of love. With all its passion and all its ups and downs. This is definitely a down.

Not what the kiss is saying. Not what his hands roaming all over my body, caressing my back and hugging me tight are saying.

He pulls me to my feet and unzips the back of my dress and I let it slide off my shoulders to the floor. That’s saying a lot too.

“I don’t want to have to ask for this,” I say as his lips travel down my neck.

“Then don’t,” he mutters then buries his face between my breasts.

“What else can I do?”

“Enough talking, Eden,” he says then makes it happen by kissing me deeply again.

By the time we come up for air, the conversation seems days old. The now is all there is. And right now, I need him, need his kisses, his caresses, his body pressed against mine, his cock inside me.

I help him remove his cut and his shirt without breaking the kiss, tug on his belt, to get his pants off too. I’m caught up in the urgency of now and I never want to be let go. Scary darkness lies beyond this fiery light we’re creating.

He lays me on my back on the table and I wrap my legs around his hips, bidding him closer. There’s not many places in this house where I haven’t given myself to him, and this table is one of them.

There’s no ice in his eyes as he enters me, only softness, only a world of sunshine that I desperately want to last, to be a part of. Forever.

Right now, I am the center of that world. And I love it.

His thrusts are wild, unbridled, exactly what I need. He’s gripping my waist and I arch my back to offer myself to him more fully. Truth is, this is all I need. This pleasure, this fiery bliss, burning away all the darkness, all the doubts, all the terrible things waiting for us beyond the locked doors of this house.

I’m so close I can already taste it, but I hold back from coming. Because I want this moment to last and last and last forever. He’s like a wild man, thrusting into me, his eyes full of light, his gaze just for me. I never want to forget this. Any of it.

But as soon as it’s over, I’ll have to start forgetting. And the end is coming, because there’s no fighting the explosion of bliss. He knows how to make me come too well, knows exactly what I need and love, what drives me wild. I don’t even have to tell him. He just knows. His rhythmic hard thrusts drive me over the edge, my whole body shuddering as I fight to hold onto the pleasure and never let it go.

He’s breathing hard and shuddering slightly too as he lies on top of me, spent, his breath fast and jagged as he lifts me up and kisses my neck.

“I can’t fucking live without you, Eden,” he whispers, holding me tight. “Don’t ask me to.”

A tear trickles out of my eye. I didn’t cry when he wouldn’t have me. I didn’t cry when he abducted me and kept me locked up in this house. And I won’t cry now.

I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold him tight. Now. That’s all we have.

I can’t speak. Because I can’t do what he’s asking.

Decades seem to again pass as we just hold each other, the room growing chilly and our breathing and heartbeats slowing. Decades, but not the lifetime I need. That we need.

After a while, he leads me back to the head of the table and sits me in his lap.

“What you’re asking is impossible,” he says.

“You too,” I say. “I don’t want to make you choose. But I don’t want to lie to you either. You have to.”

He wraps his arm tighter around my waist as he reaches for a bread roll.

“No, I mean, I can’t stop this war,” he says. “It’s not just my war.”

“But you would if you could?”

I look into his eyes very deeply. And I think I can see what I want to see there. What I need to see.

“Would that be enough for you?”

This time he’s searching for an answer in my eyes. I don’t know what he sees there. But I don’t want to lie to him. So I shake my head.

“While seeking revenge, dig two graves—one for yourself...” I hear myself say.

“What’s that?” he asks, not meeting my eyes. “Wise words from some fancy book of yours? What I’m doing isn’t revenge, it’s vengeance.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Vengeance is justice.” Now he’s not even holding me anymore.

The pleasant heat that’s always around when he’s near is gone.

I get up and pick up my dress. He doesn’t try to stop me.

“Both just equal death in the end,” I say and slide the dress over my head.

He nods, his eyes very dark, but also very soft. “I always expected to dig that second grave for myself when this was all over.”

I suddenly physically can’t stand the cold finality of this conversation. It’s like winter has come into this room, full of ice and snow and winds so razor-sharp I feel like I’m bleeding.

I walk to him and hold his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I understand the pain you’ve been through. You lost your whole family and had no one for so long. But you have me now. Let me give you a family. Don’t kill us both for revenge or vengeance. There won’t ever be any justice in that. Because there’ll be nothing left when it’s done. You know that. And I know you don’t want that. Not anymore.”

I’m breathless by the time all that is out of my mouth. He just looks at me, saying nothing. But his face and his eyes are speaking volumes, too fast for me to understand. So many lifetimes have passed in this room tonight. I hope they’re not all we’re getting in this life.

“That was nice speech, Eden,” he says, ice returning to his eyes. Ice with no sun to warm it.

“Am I wrong?” I ask.

He peels my hands away from his face, gets up and starts dressing.

“Am I?” I insist, sounding very desperate for an answer. But what do I care? It’s a whole lifetime I’m fighting for here.

“I have to go now,” he says, heading for the front door.

I’m not getting an answer. I’m not getting our lifetime together. I can ask all I want and it won’t happen.

He turns right before exiting the house.

“For what it’s worth, you’re not wrong,” he says. “But it’s not worth much.”

And then he’s gone, but the winter stayed. I rub my bare arms with my hands, but my skin is icy cold. He didn’t close the door. I could just walk out right now. I wouldn’t get far, but I can leave.

I’m frozen to the spot.

I asked and the answer was no. There will be no lifetime for us. No forever. No happily ever after.