Chapter 20 Willa
Willa
In the light of day, the clubhouse is worse than I thought. Shattered glass is embedded in the couches. The walls are dotted with holes. Two patch bunnies are washing blood off the patio, and any tension between them and the old ladies has temporarily ceased in light of what happened.
Everyone helps clean, mostly in silence.
Setting aside any differences to take care of the club.
It’s moments like this that I see the family here.
The pain that bleeds at the loss of two of their own.
I didn’t know Wick or Mayhem personally, but I saw them die.
Dean mentioned that Mayhem was a second to the ranked brothers and that Wick was new to the club but showed strong promise.
They were a part of the Twisted Kings, and now they’re gone.
Wren, the redhead I was wary of when I first arrived at the clubhouse, walks by, offering a small but genuine smile. The blonde at her side, who I now know as Reina, doesn’t look at me. But she doesn’t glare either.
Patch bunnies, old ladies, prospects, and members work for two full days cleaning up the mess at the clubhouse, barely seeing a glimpse of the ranked members.
The first day, they disappeared for the entire afternoon into a building at the back of the property. When they returned, they were soaking wet and covered in blood. No one asked why that was, even though we all had our eyes on them as they made their way through the clubhouse.
Tempe was the first to move when they paused at the center of the room. She walked up to Steel and wrapped her arms around him, not caring what covered his clothes. He embraced her, and they stood like that for a long moment. No one moved, even as the first tears started to fall from Tempe’s eyes.
Her hug was like a symbol of what we all felt.
Loss, grief.
Defeat.
And Steel stood in front of all his men—his whole club—accepting that bit of comfort.
There was a moment of silence then. For the club. For the brothers who had died.
Dean stood near me while Legacy shifted closer to Reagan, but we didn’t touch or speak. No one said a word while Steel and Tempe stood at the center.
It was a strange, quiet moment of mourning. And as Tempe’s tears fell, so did mine. At the first sound of her sobbing, others followed. There was no more holding back.
I’d experienced loss before and buried it down. But here the club was, accepting that pain together. They were feeling it.
Facing it.
Not hiding from it.
We all mourned, and when Tempe finally stopped crying, Steel faced the room, slowly scanning his brothers’ faces with his hand latched in hers. It almost looked like he was going to give a speech, but he remained silent. There was nothing else to say.
Sometimes, words aren’t enough; there’s only action. So he stood as a pillar for his club, chin held high for them.
Vengeance blazing in his eyes.
When he finally walked away, Luna and Reagan surrounded Tempe. They disappeared into the kitchen while I stayed with Aimee to continue cleaning.
Dean’s hand brushed mine as he walked past, following the rest of the members into church. They were in that room for a couple of hours before they left in a chorus of engines coming to life.
None of the guys came home that night, and I knew better than to ask questions. I stayed up most of the night talking to Luna and Aimee in the bar at the front of the clubhouse. It was untouched by the attack—by the death that so recently happened here.
The next day was the funeral, and I stood near the back. Part of me wondered if I should even be there when I didn’t know the members who were being lowered into the ground.
For Dean, I stayed.
The guys were out late that night as well, but when Dean finally came to bed sometime this morning, the tension in his shoulders had loosened slightly.
The circles around his eyes were dark with exhaustion, but there was peace in his gaze.
He climbed into bed, and instead of sleeping, he spent hours between my legs. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It was like he needed the reminder that I was still here. A reminder that we’re still living.
Two days of hard work, and the clubhouse is finally almost clean.
The back wall will need to be fully repaired, but the glass has been cleared and the curtains replaced.
A new slider was installed this morning, and the old furniture has been swapped for new couches and chairs.
Anything salvageable was kept, but the rest has been thrown out.
Tempe and Reagan aren’t here today since the kids are out of school, but Luna is in the kitchen helping the patch bunnies make lunch, while Aimee and I continue to work.
“We’re going to need new frames.” Aimee holds up a shattered picture frame, frowning.
“At least it didn’t damage much of the picture. Maybe it can be cropped.”
“Yeah.” She sets it aside, salvaging what photos she can.
The guys have been in church all morning, and the blinds are drawn so we can’t see them.
“I’m guessing this doesn’t happen often,” I say, staring at the closed door.
“Never.” Aimee stops beside me. “They take security of the compound seriously. I’m surprised anyone got in without a hundred alarms triggering. Luna said Ghost has been a mess about it.”
“Why him?”
“He handles all the security for the compound. But apparently, those guys who breached it had some wildly advanced equipment. Anything that can get around Ghost’s system must be pretty intense. It wasn’t until after they were gone that Ghost’s computer finally went off.”
“That doesn’t sound like his fault.”
Her nose scrunches. “Try telling any of these guys it isn’t their fault when something goes wrong. They don’t take failure well. Especially when it risks the life of people they care about.”
“I guess so.” I can’t imagine how hard Dean would be on himself if he thought he was to blame for this.
If his brothers are anything like him, I’m sure they take protecting the club’s members seriously.
Luna walks out of the kitchen with sandwiches, and for a beat, her gaze snags on the closed door to church.
There’s been a heaviness around her this morning when she’s usually so cheerful, and now I understand why.
Her lavender hair is tied in a messy knot, flopping around as she circles the room, passing out sandwiches.
But every so often, she glances at the door to church, likely worried about Ghost.
“I feel like I’ve barely seen the guys these past couple of days.”
“Same.” Aimee sighs, brushing off a picture frame. One of the few that isn’t broken.
“Does Havoc tell you what they’re doing?”
She leans in, smiling. “More than he’s supposed to. But don’t say anything.”
“I won’t.”
“I don’t know much about what’s going on right now though. We haven’t been around each other long enough to have a conversation. When he finally came to bed this morning, we got a little… distracted. There wasn’t much talking.” She smiles, a blush climbing her cheeks.
I laugh. “I know what you mean.”
“Oh really?” Her eyes narrow, and I realize my mistake.
I’ve been careful these past couple of days, not mentioning that Dean and I had sex since it didn’t seem like the appropriate time to do so. But in one comment, I’ve given myself away.
“Now that I think about it, you look very relaxed today. Any particular reason for that, Willa?” Aimee wiggles her eyebrows, scanning me over.
“Is there any chance you can just forget what I said a few moments ago, and we can pretend it never happened?”
“No way.” She turns to face me. “Spill. You and Chaos… Was it worth it? Was it good? Tell me everything.”
Usually, I’d avoid those questions, but there’s something about Aimee that makes me feel like I can trust her. I don’t get the impression she’ll walk around telling everyone what happened.
“Have you ever had sex so good it makes you think you’ve never really had sex before that moment?”
“Mm-hmm.” Aimee smiles, her gaze drifting to the door that leads to church, as if she’s thinking about Havoc. “Chaos is that good, huh?”
“Fuck yes. So good. He knows what he’s doing. And he doesn’t mind doing it over and over again.”
She laughs, and it draws out my smile.
“That’s probably too much information,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Girl, you’re fine. Living here, you get desensitized to sex, honestly. You can’t shock me.”
“That I believe.” I glance around, thinking of how many people I’ve seen in the throes of it in this very room. “Still, it was different. There’s sex, and then there’s whatever happened between us. It felt like more.”
“Why are you frowning then?” She nudges my arm. “That sounds like a good thing.”
“It is.” I try to force a smile. “I’m just not sure how he feels about it. What if I’m building it up in my head, but to him, it’s just sex?”
“You could ask him.”
“Ask Dean about his feelings?” I hitch an eyebrow. “Have you met him?”
“I have actually.” She stands taller. “And I’ve never seen him look at anyone like he looks at you. So if anyone can ask Chaos about his feelings, you can.”
Maybe she’s right, and I’m scared for no reason. It’s just that this hesitance still hangs between us, like the fact that he still hasn’t kissed me. If I push too hard too fast, he might throw on the brakes.
My phone rings, and I’m so distracted that I answer before looking to see who’s calling.
“Hello.”
“Willa.” My sister’s voice makes my stomach sink.
“Eden.” I frown, glancing at Aimee.
She rolls her eyes when she learns who I’m talking to.
Over the course of the past couple of days, cleaning the clubhouse, Aimee and I have built a strange friendship.
Telling each other things about our lives that we might not under different circumstances.
Something about cleaning up in the aftermath of what happened formed a bond that’s different from my usual friendships.
“You answered. Thank God, I’ve been trying to reach you. You need to come back home.” Eden’s voice is pitched, and all her thoughts are running together when she’s usually so calm. “How could you do this?”
“How could I do this?” My teeth clench, and I step aside. “You screwed my fiancé.”
“You didn’t even like him.”
“That’s not the point, Eden.”
“Come on, Willa. We both know you weren’t showing him any attention.”
“So you took it upon yourself to do it?” I feel myself getting flustered. “You know what? I don’t care. Screw Kincaid all you want.”
“Willa…” My name is a grunt and a sigh, like she has any right to be frustrated. “You need to come back. How could you do this to Kincaid? To Dad?”
The door to church opens, and the guys start to filter out. My gaze snags on Dean, who is one of the last to leave.
“If you’re calling me to convince me to forgive him or go back to him—”
“Dad is pissed.”
“Good. He broke his fucking promise.” That promise was the whole reason I chose Kincaid, and they both lied to me.
“Who is she talking to?” I hear Dean ask Aimee when he stops beside her.
“Her sister, I think.” Aimee shrugs, and Dean’s gaze hardens.
He beelines for me just as Eden starts rambling more nonsense.
“Things got complicated after Mom died. We had to do what was necessary for Dad. For the ranch. You know that—”
Dean snatches the phone from my hand, cutting Eden off. He brings it to his ear, listening to her ramble for a few seconds before interrupting her.
“Fuck off, Eden,” he says, hanging up and handing me my phone back.
“I can handle my sister.” I glare, not actually angry.
“I have no doubt about that, princess. But you shouldn’t have to.” He grabs my chin, tilting it up for me to look at him.
For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. He’s so close I can smell the mint from his gum. But he hesitates, staring into my eyes. My fingers tighten on his cut, and I’m frozen. Mesmerized.
Time pauses like this could be the moment that changes everything.
Until he pulls back, and I quickly bury my disappointment.
“What are you up to?” I fiddle with my hands, letting my gaze drift off.
“Taking you for a ride.”
“I’m okay hanging out here with Aimee if you’re busy.”
“Not too busy for you, princess.”
I want to overanalyze that. To think maybe his chest gets as tight as mine does when he’s around me. Instead, I remind myself that Dean chases fun. He thrives in chaos. He’ll tire of me eventually and realize that now that we’re grown up, I’m more trouble than I’m worth.
“Come on.” He slips his fingers through mine.
I wave goodbye to Aimee, who is standing in Havoc’s arms. He stares down at her like she’s his entire world. And when her gaze moves up to him, her smile is wider than I’ve ever seen it.
Dean leads me outside to his bike. He hands me a helmet while he climbs on. There are speakers inside, humming with his chuckle as he watches me fight with the buckle.
After a pathetic attempt, he fixes it for me, then holds out his hand so I can climb on behind him. I’m as far back as I can get, afraid to wrap myself around him, because every time I do, I can’t think straight. But he grabs my thighs and pulls my chest flush with his back, refusing me any space.
“Where are we going?” My hold on his waist tightens as the bike pulls forward.
“For a drive.”
His answer is vague, when I usually prefer knowing what’s going on. Right now, I don’t mind. After these past couple of days, I could use an escape.
Better yet, I could use a distraction.
“Hmm.” I skate my hands down Dean’s abs as we reach the main road, seizing the opportunity of being this close to him to feel every ripple of his body. My fingers skate lower, toying with his thighs next.
“You trying to kill us, Willa?” His voice is clear through the speaker in my helmet.
“Of course not.” I rub my palm up his leg, gripping his firm cock through his jeans. “You’ll keep us safe, won’t you?”
“Oh, you’re safe, princess.” He groans when I rub him again. “From everyone but me.”