Saranya Chapter
Saranya:
Yesterday, it was late when Cowboy returned to the house after spending hours with his brothers and Jordan.
His jeans and boots were bloody, and there were splatters of castoff on his shirt.
The boots were actual riding boots rather than his usual cowboy ones.
I took his clothing and put it in the washer.
While he showered, I worked on the boots, using a mixture that would not only clean the blood but also remove any DNA.
My love of crime shows was to thank for that knowledge.
After he was done showering, we got in bed and held each other. There wasn’t much talking. Eventually, he turned to me and kissed me. The passion in that kiss led us to make love. It was slow and glorious. It effectively ended the night, and we fell asleep.
Today, being Saturday, everyone was off.
This meant a lot was going on, as individual family plans occurred alongside small group ones.
Cowboy and I ended up riding the bike to my place.
There was a tad more packing to do, then the prospects could come, box, and haul the whole thing to Cowboy’s house.
At first, I told him it could wait, but he was adamant that we do it.
Everyone had been told via text that Diablo wanted the entire club to meet tonight in the clubhouse at eight o’clock. His exact words were “There was celebrating to do.” No one would disobey the president. Besides, we liked spending time together.
Before we headed back to the compound, we rode some more and then stopped to get dinner.
It was a small Italian restaurant called The Tuscan.
It served the best Italian food that ever passed my lips.
I moaned so much during the meal, Cowboy threatened to haul me into the bathroom and fuck my brains out.
If I hadn’t been worried we’d be arrested, I would’ve let him.
Instead, I took home leftovers and told him that if he got that urge again, he was free to do it.
It was now a few minutes after eight o’clock.
Everyone was gathered as instructed. Jaycee and the dogs, along with little Chasin, were having fun together playing.
I adored how those three giant dogs allowed the kids to tug on their ears and tails, and even sit on their backs.
The riding was mostly on Dozer. Chasin was the ear-and-tail puller.
Whenever Diablo caught Chasin doing it, he’d lightly smack his hands and tell him no. He was put in a timeout. He hated it.
Cowboy wandered off somewhere, promising to be back. I told Electra about The Tuscan. She hadn’t eaten there, but swore she would after my testimony. I was telling her about the extensive menu when Cowboy came back—he stood next to my chair, staring intently at me.
“Honey, are you okay? Do you need me?” I asked.
“I do. Give me your hand and stand up.”
I let him help me with the chair and then assist me in rising. When I was on my feet, he said more.
“Face that way,” he pointed away from him.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“No questions. Please, do it,” he asked.
“Okay.”
Once I was turned, there were a few chuckles and whispers.
I was about to turn and ask my man what was going on when his left arm came around me.
Hanging from it was leather. It was spread out so the writing and emblem on the black was visible.
Horsemen of Wrath MC, Property of Cowboy jumped out at me.
I gasped. Before any words escaped, he turned it using his right hand so the front faced me.
I blinked back a tear when I read Wildling on the front.
“Hurry. Put it on me,” I demanded.
To the laughter, teasing, and cheers of the entire club, Cowboy wrapped me in that soft leather. The scent filled my nose. Some people disliked the smell of leather, but I didn’t. I was hugging myself in happiness when Cowboy spoke again. His voice was raised.
“Everyone, I would like to present, again, now that it’s doubly official, my old lady, Saranya. Or as I call her, my wildling. No one has ever captured me like she does.”
“Not even your horses or a crazy bull?” Punk teased.
“No, not even my beloved horses or God, don’t kill me, not even my bike.”
That was truly an astonishing compliment. I was about to hug and kiss him when he held up his hand for silence.
“There’s one more thing I have to give you. Call it a pre-engagement gift. That ring is coming, Anya. Here, open it.”
He held out a small box tied with a red ribbon. I trembled as I loosened the ribbon. He took it from me as I lifted the lid. It took a few seconds for it to register what I was seeing. When it did, I burst out laughing.
“What is it?”
“We wanna see.”
Those words were yelled at us. I took it out and held it up.
In my hand was an oval belt buckle. It was made of silver with sections crafted in yellow gold and rose-colored metal in a filigree style.
The scene on it depicts a woman riding a bucking horse.
It was painted in bold colors, with what appeared to be gems flashing on it.
At the bottom are the words World Champion Rider.
As the others oohed and ahhed and asked what it meant, Cowboy whispered in my ear, “I told you that you gave me the ride of my life, Cowgirl. You deserve that buckle. And I want a repeat of that ride.”
Whirling around, I jumped up, hooking my arms around his neck. His head lowered so I could attack his mouth. The hoots and hollers only spurred me on. When we finally parted to breathe, I winked at him as I hoarsely replied.
“Cowboy, you play your cards right, and this cowgirl will give you that repeat performance tonight. Better buckle up.” His sexy growl made me giggle and then moan as he grabbed my ass and kissed me again.
Later, as we sat and got the congratulations from our friends, I couldn’t stop smiling. I couldn’t wait to show off my cut and buckle to War, Raff, and my parents. However, we might have to come up with a tamer story to explain the buckle to my parents.
???
Cowboy and I were waiting on our porch. We were shortly to have dinner with my parents, but before we did, two men arrived to see us.
We’d been called by Boden and told about it.
When he explained who it was, Cowboy had instructed him to escort them to our house.
As Boden did, Cowboy sent a text to the entire compound, telling them of the visitors.
I was so nervous I felt like I was about to puke. Cowboy’s hand rubbed my back. “Babe, look at me.”
I did as he asked.
“There is nothing to worry about. Just keep saying that. We knew they’d come.”
He was right, we had known. There was no more time to panic because Boden pulled in front of the house in the club’s SUV. The first man to get out was in casual, business clothes, and the other in uniform. Boden remained by the SUV, pointing at us. As the men climbed the steps, Cowboy took charge.
“Hello, Detective, Officer, I’m Zander Brashears, but I go by Cowboy. This is my fiancée, Saranya Coleman. We understand you need to speak to us. We’ve been expecting you.” His voice was firm and calm.
His admission that we were expecting them made their steps falter for a moment, then they recovered. Gaining the porch, the older one spoke.
“Mr. Brashears, Ms. Coleman, I’m Detective Montgomery. This is Officer Merritt. You say you’re expecting us. Why? We never said why we’re here.” There was speculation in his tone.
“Please, have a seat. Can we offer you something to drink?” Cowboy asked.
He pointed to the chairs on the porch. He’d told me that they wouldn’t be invited into the house, just as they wouldn’t be permitted in the clubhouse.
Having them inside the compound at all was a big enough risk.
However, there was nothing that would have given them probable cause to search.
The scenes from my crime dramas ran amok in my head.
“No, thank you on the drinks,” we were told as they took seats in the rockers we had on the porch. There were four of them, so we all had one. Cowboy retained hold of my hand after we were seated.
“Of course, we expected you. Have you not been speaking to everyone who was a friend, colleague, staff member, or acquaintance of Jordan Neely? You’ve spoken to Anya’s parents and the staff at their clinic,” my man smoothly explained.
His unflappable demeanor helped to calm me. “Yes, my parents told us all about Jordan. Dad and Mom came home from a short vacation, and he was nowhere to be found.”
“Yes, we’re here about Dr. Neely. We understand from your father that you were the one to report him missing to your parents,” Detective Montgomery said. There was no easing into it. He was going for shock factor.
“I reported to my dad that Jordan had asked me a couple of days before to help him with a difficult case since my dad was gone. When I arrived at the address, we found it was an old, abandoned-looking place. Jordan wasn’t there.
After repeatedly knocking on the door of the house, searching the area, and sending texts and calling him, I left.
“Why wait two days before telling anyone? Why not call the police?” the detective asked.
“I feel terrible about the delay. I thought he had changed his mind and forgot to tell me not to come. Or gave us the wrong address. Jordan is a great vet, but he has done something similar before with my dad. It turned out that the customer canceled the call, and he zoned telling Dad. Then Jordan told my dad he shut off his phone for the night. I assumed Jordan did the same thing with me.”