Chapter Nine
Sage
Pulling into the long drive that leads to The Keep has my blood pressure dropping.
There’s just something about the way it gently winds, the way the clubhouse comes into view, the playground with Addy, Bree, Greer and Izzy playing on it, that makes me feel like I’m coming home.
I marvel how it’s only been a matter of weeks and it already feels like that.
It probably helps that the first face I see as I park up is Joe’s.
Her wide grin and goofy wave has me giggling as I wave back.
“Hey hey, lady, whatcha doin’?” I ask as I throw open my door.
“Just waiting for my girl. Loyal is out on date night with Vex -”
“It’s 3pm?”
“They’re old,” Joe shrugs with an impish grin.
“Right. So what’s the plan, chica?” I ask, hooking my handbag strap over my shoulder.
Joe’s eyes twinkle as she hooks her arm in mine and starts to lead me down the path, toward the cabins. “Damian and Justice are off listening to that preacher man -”
I freeze in my tracks, “Justice is with him?”
“Yeah. Damian has gone to like three rallies so far. Justice is going as backup. He’s worried Damian will be pulled in.”
I stare at Joe. I don’t know Damian as well as Joe, but he doesn’t seem like the type of guy to get caught up in something like that. She must see the look on my face because she laughs.
“I get it girl. Damian aint gonna do anything Damian don’t wanna do.” She tugs me a little, to get me moving again. “Anyway, with them away Prez has asked if I, along with my girls, would like to decorate two more cabins. With all this stuff happening, we may need more accommodation.”
“Lead the way, Joe Joe.”
Joe grins and moves faster. I don’t blame her. There’s an urgency in me to get these done because it means that we’re getting closer to shutting down Ashfall and I’m getting closer to getting rid of Nathaniel.
“So, how's Chef?” Joe asks, avoiding my gaze.
Rolling my eyes, I angle my head to look at her. “You can just ask, you know?”
“I don’t want to pry.” I raise a brow. “OK, I do want to pry, but I was being polite about it,” she huffs.
A laugh bursts out of me and I shake my head. “I don’t know what it is about MC’s, but we sure do love to gossip.”
Joe is quiet for a moment. “The last MC I knew wasn’t anything like this one,” she says quietly.
“Wait.” I stop and turn to Joe. “You know another MC?”
She swallows, head down. “My ex was in one. Nothing like this one. They didn’t protect women. Only hurt them.”
I wrap my arms around Joe, giving her a squeeze. I remember the first time I ever saw Joe. The DRMC were bringing Addy and Bree to Vex and Loyal and Joe turned up, battered, broken. It hurts my heart to know that someone with so much light and love could have ever been treated that way.
“You’re safe now Joe. We’ve got you.”
“And we’ve got you,” she whispers before sniffing loudly and stepping back. “Come on, we’re gonna have more women to look after soon.”
“More for our beginner girl gang, huh?” I bump her shoulder, and there is my Joe. Bright headscarf, white teeth on display as she beams at me, gripping my hand as we beeline to a cute little cabin tucked next to an oak tree.
“So, whatcha think?” She slings her arm over me, as we stare at our after work project.
“I think I need to hit Pinterest.”
***
“Hey, it’s just me,” Chef calls out as he comes in through the door.
“Hey,” I reply, not looking up from my phone where I’m intensely adding to my Pinterest board. “How was work?”
“Just men getting covered in oil and grease.”
My eyes flick up as Chef leans against the kitchen island, opposite where I’m sitting at the dining table.
“Sounds sexy.”
Chef snorts and then chuckles when I wag my brows.
I like this new norm we’ve settled into.
It probably helps that Chef is actually a good room mate.
Every morning I wake up to my coffee perfectly doctored, with just the right amount of caramel creamer.
Chef eats his protein overnight oats while I eat my granola.
And when it looks like it’s getting low?
The next day there will be a new box waiting in its place.
I know they’re small things, but they mean a lot.
Which makes this whole thing hard. I didn’t want to see Chef, or be anywhere near him really.
I was too pissed and hurt and scared and whatever other emotion my system would throw at me whenever he was near.
What I never thought I’d feel was content.
I like when he comes home and we talk about our day.
Don’t get me wrong, hanging out at the clubhouse with Loyal, Joe, Damian and Justice is a hella good time, but surprisingly, so is spending a quiet evening near someone I’m beginning to get to know again.
“So, what has you all frowny and thinky over there?”
“Thinky?” My nose screws up. “If you must know, I’m helping Loyal and Joe with a couple of the cabins. If, no, when we shut down Ashfall, there will be women needing a safe place to stay.”
Chef’s face softens, and everything feels very domestic all of a sudden. I know Chef feels it too because he straightens and clears his throat.
“We’ll shut Ashfall down. Because you’ll take out Nathaniel.”
I give him a tight smile. It’s nice his lush lips are saying those words, because I have a feeling that there will be a long line of DRMC men who will try to stand in the way of my bullet and Nathaniel’s head.
“Fingers crossed!” I say cheerily. “Until then I have a cabin to renovate, meat to peddle and a fake wedding to get through.”
“So, just another day in the DRMC?” Chef says, brow cocked.
I can’t help the grin on my face. “Just another day in the DRMC.”
Chef
“What about this one?” I say, socked feet kicked up and resting on the coffee table.
Sage’s smaller feet are tucked under my thigh as she sits with her back against the armrest of the couch. We’ve been in this position since we moved from the dining table to the lounge, and I don’t think she even realizes where her feet currently are. And I ain’t telling her. I like it.
“Chef. Dude. When I asked for a neutral colored rug, I meant something cream, or beige. That is leopard print.”
“In my defence, Nancy, Damian’s mom, told me leopard print is a neutral.”
Sage stares at me for a long moment. “What the hell were you talking about for Nancy to teach you that?” I think back, rolling my lips between my teeth. “Chef?” Sage moves her foot from beneath my thigh, so she can poke me with her toe, before wriggling it back to where it was.
“I was admiring a leopard print velvet lined casket.”
She blinks twice at me before bursting into giggles. I huff out a laugh and keep scrolling.
“Chef, what color was the casket?”
“It was pink.” I mumble under my breath.
“It was what? I didn’t hear you.”
“It was pink, OK? It looked badass and it even had neon lights around the bottom.”
Sage leans back, laughing hard, her tits jiggling with her gasps and I have to avert my eyes, keep myself busy so I don’t pop a fucking boner and ruin the mood. But shit, it’s hard. Angry pissed off Sage is hot as hell, but fun loving, joyful, hair all mussed up Sage? Sexy as fuck.
“Ok, Ok, breathe,” she says to herself, blowing out a long breath before sitting up, a serious look on her face.
“Chef, I solemnly swear, if you ever die, I will make sure you are buried in a pink, leopard lined casket with neon lights around the bottom.” Her finger crosses her heart and she blows me a little kiss.
“And I solemnly swear that I will not die. Anytime soon. Hopefully.”
“Nope, not hearing it mister. If you die I will bring you back to life to kick your ass.”
“I’m pretty certain you already did that,” I answer drily.
“I accidentally hit you one time since I’ve been here and it was a total accident. I’m super mindful of your stitches.”
“The stitches weren't in my balls, Sage.”
“Your balls were in my way!”
I stare at her in disbelief and we burst into laughter at the same time, laughing until my stomach aches and my ribs hurt.
We laugh until the sound peters out and we’re leaned back on the couch, heads on the headrest, goofy smiles on our faces as we stare at each other.
This is starting to feel pretty fucking domestic and I really, really like it.
“I like you like this,” I say, voice still raw from laughter.
“I like this too.” She pauses for a moment. “You know, we could have always had this.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. You deserve to be happy, Chef. Even if you had shitty people in your life who told you you didn't deserve shit.”
I open my mouth, then close it. Swallowing, I measure the weight of my words. “What makes you think I had shit-”
“Chef.” Sage throws me a bored look. “I know a bit about your background. You told me, remember? Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the rest.”
“It wasn't so bad,” I reply, fiddling with my phone.
“But it wasn't so great either.” We sit quietly, the silence deafening until Sage snorts. “Hey, I didn’t do much better. I had to be smuggled out of a cult in the middle of the night. And now I’m back where I began, on a mission to kill a guy.”
My lips tip up. Sage has always known how far to push me before pulling back. I appreciate her doing so, the suffocating feeling of my past and all the mistakes I made lessening a little at her attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, I guess if we’re measuring fucked-up-ness, you definitely win.”
“Yup, that's me. Total winner.” She winks at me then wriggles a little, getting comfortable.
She lifts her phone, peeking at me one last time before concentrating on her screen.
I turn back to mine, scrolling past the leopard rug, looking for something that will make Sage happy.
She wriggles her toes back under my thighs, digging them in a little, getting comfy and I hope that it takes me all fucking night to find the perfect rug because this right here? This is every fucking thing to me.