Chapter 5
five
DANE
I’ll admit it…I underestimated Darcy. She was so close to cracking, just a hair's breadth away when she left, practically ran actually. When I tell someone to do something, they do it without question. Not my woman, though. I tell her to stay put and she hightails it out of there as fast as her feet will carry her. Not that it’ll do any good. She can run but I’ll always chase.
As much as I wish she would listen, it's that same instinct to fight that will make her one hell of an old lady. A gentler approach will always go better with her, especially as spirited as she seems to be. The only time I want Darcy’s claws out is if they’re digging into my back while she’s coming on my cock. That doesn’t mean I’ll let her evade me forever.
Instead of a nice steak dinner with Darcy and Owen, my dinner was eaten at Mrs. Grant’s house with only the static crackle of the baby monitor for company. Completely unacceptable. She’s going to change her mind about us, and soon, no matter what means I have to use. While I ate my pathetic takeout burger, I overheard Darcy talking to someone from an employment agency one town over. Darcy thinks she’s going to interview at some plumbing company.
No, she’s not.
I was less than pleased that Darcy started job hunting before we had a chance to approach her. Her determination is a turn-on but inconvenient. I need to move fast before she starts looking at rentals and gets settled somewhere else. Judging by the late payment history on her bills, she can’t have much saved up. Her bank accounts are abysmal, but Folgers says it looks like she just pulls out her entire paycheck and pays for everything in cash.
With the club in the middle of a transition of power, it’s going to be a risky time for anyone close to me, regardless of how smoothly the process goes.
I’ll admit her safety is on my mind as I find myself at the A New Day employment agency this early in the morning. The biggest part that’s driving me to interfere, the one that consumes my soul, is my need to have her close. I want to pop in anytime to kiss her lips, to spend every available moment with her, but most of all, I want Darcy back where she belongs. Darcy never should have left, and it’s time to fix that.
From one of the cubbies in the empty workroom, the blonde twenty-something-year-old gives me a “deer in the headlights” stare as I approach. “Hello, Kaitlyn,” I say in greeting as I pull out an envelope of cash from my pocket.
She jumps from her seat and stammers out a “hello,” her body rigid as brown eyes stare at the wad of bills I’m holding out to her. She already knows what’s expected. It’s not like she’s screwing over Darcy. This is a win-win for both of them. Kaitlyn gets more money, and my woman gets a better job. Only fear of being caught could be holding her back.
She looks around the office but avoids my eyes as a manicured hand reaches out to accept my offer. It trembles slightly as she tucks the bills inside her leather purse. Turning back to her computer, Kaitlyn plops down in the chair and wakes up the sleeping monitor. With proficient movements, her hands fly around the keyboard before the large printer to her side groans to life. She swivels out of her office chair and paces over to retrieve the document just as it spits out the information I came for.
“What pay was she looking for?” I ask casually.
“Hold on, I can check for you,” Kaitlyn responds, rapidly clicking her mouse. The printer makes another groaning noise, but this time, I’m the one who retrieves the document: the notes on Darcy’s employment agency file. It immediately infuriates me. Her standards are far below what she should expect. Less than what she was making with us, that’s for sure.
“Change her status to employed now, but wait a few days to call her with my offer,” I grit out. “If she checks in before that, tell her that Robicheaux Plumbing already hired someone.”
Kaitlyn doesn’t even blanch at my knowledge. “Consider it done,” she answers, having no idea that she’s likely just spared someone’s life. Darcy’s application was going to be sent to Marcus Robicheaux. There was an incident between him and the club during a fundraiser at the local elementary school. The fifty-year-old man made the poor decision to corner and grope Folgers house mouse, Sutton, about three seconds before Folgers walked inside. The words “Louisville slugger” are probably still printed across old Marcus’ back. After he showed such disrespect, there’s no way my woman is going to be in the same room as him.
Folding the two sheets of paper in half, I tuck them into the pocket of my cut. As I turn to leave, Kaitlyn works her lip nervously, fidgety in her chair all of a sudden. “You’ll tell Mudbug I helped the club?”
I find my eyes rolling heavenward. Blonde, curvy, and within an hour's drive of the clubhouse. Of course, she’s one of his women. I stifle a chuckle before answering, “Sure, darlin’. I’m sure he’ll be real proud of you.”
Turning to leave, I don’t bother with pleasantries. I have other shit to handle this morning. Seth’s being released.
I’m fully aware of the reason for Darcy’s reluctance. She wasn’t even surprised when we showed up to collect a debt, as if it was just another day for her. If she didn’t even blink at us on her doorstep, I can only imagine what she’s been through. Darcy’s in survival mode, too busy surviving to bloom.
Getting rid of the piece of shit before he inflicts even more damage on Darcy is going to be a good step in the right direction.
* * *
The truck’s air conditioner blasts against the exposed skin of my arms, providing relief from the warm March day. Mudbug shifts around in the passenger seat and starts to tap his foot. His eyes are bloodshot, and the smell of liquor seeps from his pores. He laid off the midweek benders a while back, but he’s been hitting it hard the last few days.
Staring absently out the windshield, he offers, “You can still change your mind.”
Without looking away from the sliding gates of the jail, I respond, “Not happening.”
“You’ve been in the same room as her once,” he accuses.
I slide a glance in his direction as a muscle in my jaw ticks. “Twice,” I correct, “But once is all it takes.”
“That doesn’t mean you know her,” he answers sullenly. He slouches down in the seat, lips drawn into a thin line.
“I thought you liked Darcy?” I remark, trying to keep my tone conversational, my grip on the steering wheel tightening with every controlled breath. For a brief moment, I imagine throwing my lifelong friend out of the cab of my truck going full speed down the interstate. A strange darkness washes over me with every reminder that they knew her before I did. Any detail he knows is infuriating. I wish I could wipe every old memory of her from his brain by any means necessary. No one should know Darcy better than me.
All because I visited my aunt while my parents went on weekend runs together when I was younger. My aunt used to invite the neighbor's son over to keep me company and that kid just happened to grow up to become the new lieutenant of Gaming Enforcement.
His unit was breathing down the New Orleans chapter's neck, so I was sent to work out some sort of an arrangement. I mean, sure, Keith and I spent a lot of time playing together as kids, but I didn’t even know he became a state trooper until my grandpa told me. With as deep shit as the chapter was in, we had to use any and all leverage we had, and a small amount of nostalgia might go a long way. It worked. I spent a year of my life coming to an agreement with Keith, then making all the necessary changes. In the meantime, the boys saw Darcy five days a week, spending time near her and getting to know her better than I did.
Mudbug shakes his head with disapproval and shifts around the truck's cab again, bouncing his leg. “I do like Darce,” he admits in a voice softened with affection.
Affection for my woman. It’s enough to cause a man to commit a felony while in a jail parking lot.
“Don’t you think you should address the vice-president’s old lady by her real name?”
“And that’s the problem. You’ll be the president in a few days,” he reminds me, his eyes flickering with worry. “She’s not even in a property patch yet, and already she’s your weak spot.” I can’t expect Mudbug to understand. While my parents had an amazing marriage that flourished within the club, Linc and his old lady fought constantly. My mother joined Dad on rides and was by his side. Mudbug’s mom refused to even come to the compound. My mother’s death at the hands of an enemy was the final straw for her, and she took off, leaving Mudbug.
Is this why he’s been a dick lately? Does he think Darcy is going to pull me away?
“A strong old lady isn’t a weak spot,” I growl, my knuckles growing painful with the grip on the steering wheel. “They’re the glue that holds us together.” My shot, a reminder of his mother, hits home.
“You do know how she grew up, right? She thinks she’s rebelling by wearing pants for fuck sake. She’s going to run for the hills halfway through her first club party.”
No, she won’t. I’ll never let her leave me. “You’re underestimating Darcy. She just needs time to learn our ways.”
And in the meantime, I’ll have to keep a very sharp eye on her stubborn ass. Albeit through different means, both of our fathers lost their wives for the same reason. They were wrapped up in the issues with the Kings and not keeping their old ladies close. I won’t make the same mistake.
“And the kid?” he snarls back. “Everything’s going to be different with a baby around. Did you think about that at all?”
“Our sons are the future of this club,” I insist. If he’s this upset about a child changing the dynamic, his head will explode when he realizes just how all in I am with Owen. He won’t just be “around”, but with me as much as I can manage. I want to be very hands on with our children. Yes, plural. Two kids under two sounds amazing. Hell, why not three under three?
With the buzz of a gate, Mudbug slides on his Raybans, not bothering to look in my direction. “You can take some time to think about it,” he tries again.
“No,” I answer crisply. Seth is leaving town today, with whatever he has on him. There’s no telling what he may do while he’s backed into a corner like he is, and I’m not letting him cast his eyes on my family again.
Seth emerges from a set of double doors and walks right up to the truck, his gaze darting between Mudbug and myself. I’ve given him as little information as possible, so he doesn’t know who he's giving Darcy to. Holding my face expressionless, I get out and open the cab door, motioning for him to climb in the back. He pulls in a deep resigned breath before climbing in. Rubbing the back of his neck, he dares say, “Hey man, I need to stop by Butch’s house.”
I slam the back door on him without answering and get into the driver’s seat, ignoring his rambling and mentally picturing my fist driving straight into his face to shut him up. “No stops,” I grit out. My stomach rolls as I glance at him before pulling out of the parking lot. The person he is now disgusts me
“Take me to Butch’s house or the deal is off,” he tries.
With a humorless laugh, I say, “You think you’ve got a choice in this? Either you do everything as agreed, or you get to spend some quality time in the back shed.”
He knows what happens in the old storage building on the edge of the compound. As young teens, we overheard enough to figure it out. You might walk in, but you aren’t walking out.
“You think I’m crazy? You can’t get what you want without me. Take me to Butch’s place or I ain’t signing shit.”
“You’re going to do precisely what you agreed to,” I warn. He’s only so brave because he thinks we won’t really do it. When it comes to Darcy, I won’t stop at anything.
Despite the moving truck, Seth reaches for the Door handle, “Fuck you man. Let me out.” With a scream he punches the back of the passenger seat. Mudbug’s body jolts forward, and he stiffens. Wearing a “ boy did you just fuck up ” grin on his face, Mudbug turns toward the back seat. Seth’s bratty expression falls when my brother reaches into the console, and removes a roll of duct tape. He swivels it around his finger, a warning.
“You were told you are going straight to the bus stop,” I remind him at a red light, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.
He smirks back at me in the reflection. “What, your friend is stealing my woman and kid for this bullshit, and he can’t even talk for himself?”
Tone laced with exasperation, Mudbug asks, “Can’t we shut him up?”
Not smart enough to take the warning, Seth mouths back, “What do you want them for anyway? Darcy might be a hot piece of ass, but she’s shit in bed and can’t cook or clean the house worth a damn.”
I can feel the vein on my forehead throbbing, the edges of my vision growing dark as I turn into an empty parking lot with cool precision. I swore I was going to keep today nice and neat, but I’ve had enough of his bullshit. When I open the door, he scurries to the other side of the truck like the little rat he is. I drag him out and lay him face down on the hot concrete. “You were warned,” I taunt as I pull out a length of tape. The last thing I need is for him to scream and draw more attention to us.
“Fuck you, Odin ,” he says, pronouncing my road name snidely. “All this over a woman. You rigged that fight I know it!!” He’s rewarded with a kick to the ribs, just for suggesting Darcy is anyone’s but mine, then another because his face is pissing me off.
I grip the front of his shirt, and rear back bringing my full force toward those smart lips. Twisting my ring toward the front, I reach down to punch him again, remembering how I found Owen in the closet. There’s a crack, and when I look down, his nose is bleeding. If you beat him too hard they won’t let him on the bus, and then he won’t go the fuck away.
Leaning down, I chide, “Now why would we have to rig a bet when you’re good enough about losing it on your own?” While Mudbug restrains him, I wrap the silver tape securely over jean-clad legs, around his arms, and finally across his lips. It’s deeply satisfying. His muffled screams grow louder when Mudbug pulls a tarp out the truck, and lays it down in the backseat. He tries to squirm away like the worm he is, but I drag him back by his ankles and lay him on top of the tarp. He’s shaking with fear, forehead sweating, so Mudbug warns, “Do not piss yourself or you’ll be riding all the way to Florida in those pants.”
The confirmation that we’re not actually going to kill him, produces a relieved whimper. The idea of making Darcy his fucking widow, his anything, is enough to keep him alive.
Right before I close the door to the truck I decide to goad him, “Just so you know, Darcy and Owen? They’re mine.” Him not having any idea who they belong to is one thing. Thinking my family belongs to another man is another story entirely.
His eyes grow large with rage as he tries to kick at me with his restrained legs. A slammed door muffles the screams of protest as he frantically rolls around the seat.
Blaring Jimi Hendrix blocks out the continued wails from our passenger for the rest of the drive. I pull into an alleyway a block from the bus stop. After swinging open the passenger door, I pull out my large pocket knife. The wide blade sends Seth into a fit of kicking and screams as he rolls around the truck. “For fuck sake I’m just cutting you loose so you can sign all the paperwork,” I answer, exasperated.
His chest moves up and down with rapid breaths as I use the blade to free his hands, then rip the duct tape off of his mouth. I leave the tape on his legs, in case he decides to run. He rubs the red marks on his wrists, not meeting my gaze as he sits up. Mudbug hands him a box of tissue that he uses to clean up. Even the Bayou Dogs would have some explaining to do about blood splattered on important documents.
From my back pocket, I pull out the manilla envelopes that contain the beginning of my family’s future and toss it into his lap with an ink pen.
“Sign all of it,” I demand.
“I want the money from Darcy’s father first,” he demands. “I know he’ll give it to you if you ask, and I ain’t leaving without it. A man needs to be able to support himself.”
Support himself? This man has never had a woman taking care of him a day in his life. I’m not sure what funds he’s talking about, but I plan on finding out. “Consider it added interest on your debt. Now sign, or I’m going to go back in my toolbox and start getting creative.”
With a dramatic huff, he pulls out the first stack of blue-backed paperwork from my lawyer. Scanning the top, he shakes his head and moves to hand them back to me. “Don’t need this. We were never married.”
“Bullshit,” I grit out. No way am I letting him lie, then come back and hold the divorce decree over our heads.
“No, man, for real. Darcy grew up all super religious. Wouldn’t go with me unless I put a ring on her finger. Never divorced Camille’s crazy fucking ass, though, so it’s not legal.”
Nothing about what came out of his mouth is a deterrent from seeing if he can outswim Couyon’s pet gator.
But it means Darcy will only ever truly be my wife.
Mudbug cranes his neck around from the passenger seat, his eyebrows raised high. He gives me a look that says, “Can you believe this?” I return one, wordlessly saying, “ Are you surprised?” This sounds on brand for Seth and the girl he’d been with off and on since high school, but I’m not relying on it. So, in a low warning tone, I say, “Sign it anyway.”
His hand trembles as he signs over anything in this world of any value. Even if their marriage isn’t legal, I want the paperwork completed. I want any claim he may think he has over her to be gone. But was she ever really? Whatever relationship they had prior to leaving town together was kept quiet, since she lived with her strict, disapproving parents. Had she married quickly, just to get away from them?
Her reasons, or the status of their marriage don’t matter. I won’t share Darcy or Owen. They’re both mine. I don’t give a shit what any man says.
Seth refolds the document and then reaches for the second, the one concerning Owen, not even bothering to read it as the pen scratches across the paper in designated spots. “You can make me sign whatever you want, but blood will always be thicker than water. My boy will know who his real old man is,” he taunts.
Interesting he’s showing some concern over Owen, since Darcy told that friend she talks to at night that he’s held the baby once. He’s just using Owen to piss me off.
“If you try to come back or ever try to contact Darcy or Owen, I’m going to sic Gris-Gris on you,” I promise. Seth’s bullshit spreads, contaminating everything around it. The only way I can ever protect Owen from it is to keep Seth away.
His face turns ghostly pale at the threat. In the years Gris-Gris has been with us, tales of his “playtime” have spread. We release him to stroll around the casino sometimes, just as a reminder to those who may think about not paying their debts.
He hands the documents back to me with a sullen look. I check each page, and each little flagged line to make sure all the T’s are crossed and I’s dotted.
Darcy and Owen are free of this shit stain. Once Darcy and I are married, we can file to make Owen my son legally. He’ll have my last name. No one will ever question that he’s mine. They wouldn’t dare.
Mudbug leans over and hands Seth the ticket. He asked to go to Florida, of all fucking places. “The Miami chapter will be keeping an eye on you,” Muddy pronounces.
Seth walks out of the truck with a downtrodden look, still wearing his prison sliders. At the doors to the Greyhound bus, he shoots me a one finger salute.
I don’t entertain children’s antics like that, or disrespect, but my sole focus right now is to get him on that bus. If only I had more time to spend with him in that alleyway.
“Now that he’s gone, are you going to keep someone at Mrs. Grant’s?” Mudbug asks without looking in my direction.
“It’s for the best with everything going on,” I answer. The sooner Darcy is at my place, the better. I wish I could keep them at the compound. The bayou serves as a better fence than anyone could erect. No one can raid the clubhouse if they can’t find it. With the hours I work, it’ll be best if my family is close by, but the drive from town to the clubhouse is more than I can expect a baby to make every day. We’re just going to have to keep people on Darcy and Owen from now on.
Shortly before departure time, a Jeep Cherokee pulls up to the curb ahead of us to let someone out. “Speak of the devil,” I laugh as Camille, Seth’s “ex,” runs out carrying a large bag. Mudbug and I share another disbelieving look as she runs through the doors right before they close.
“I should have seen that coming,” Mudbug remarks in astonishment.
Typical of Seth. He’s an expert at manipulating women into cleaning up his shit. He must have been worried she wasn’t coming, and wanted to go to Butch’s house, where Camille lives, to convince her.
We wait where there’s a clear view of the bus until it pulls out, watching him leave our lives for good. It’s likely, hopefully, the last time I’ll ever see the person who was once my best friend.
The drive back to Parran is quiet, me deep in thought, Mudbug hungover. Halfway through our drive, he says wistfully, “You know, I really didn’t expect you to put him on that bus. I was certain he was going to meet Sally.”
“Can’t feed him to the gators. It takes longer to divorce an absent or missing person, and seven years for them to be declared dead. The way he’s going, someone will dispose of him for me.”
Just not with Darcy in the line of fire, not anymore.
I drop off Mudbug at the garage, keeping the engine running as he heads toward his bike.
With most people still at work, The Corner Mart is relatively empty. Edna Jones is at the register but looks up as I approach, lifting a heavily penciled eyebrow in my direction. The Dogs aren’t exactly what you call respectable, but they’re respected. “Where are the diapers?” I ask.
Her eyes immediately light up with the thrill of fresh gossip. “What size?” she asks, like they aren’t all in the same damn place.
“He’s brand new,” I say with the pride of the new parent I’m soon to be.
“Aisle three,” she answers before all too eagerly asking, “Did mom happen to mention if she needs wipes as well?”
She’s clever to mention “mom”, digging for any more information. “You know, we do need those too,” I answer as if recalling. I’m definitely confirming that there is a mom. As my father and Linc have proven time and again, there’s nothing women find more irresistible than a single father. I won’t disrespect Darcy by letting anyone even wonder if I’m taken.
I grab a pack of the diapers I noticed on the changing table, wipes, and a few random items from the aisle. As an afterthought, I grab the lavender hand lotion Darcy uses to answer any more questions Edna may have.
A lifelong resident of Parran, Edna is always at the VFW Hall playing bingo and gossiping with the other town biddies. By this time tomorrow, the entire town of Parran will be completely aware I have a woman and a kid.
Too bad Darcy doesn’t know it yet.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Darcy’s family has turned their backs on her and Owen. They wouldn’t be spewing lies about Darcy going to live with an aunt out of state and bible college if they were still speaking. Darcy and Owen don’t need them. They’ll have me, my family, and the club to love them unconditionally.
As I load up my items, I imagine Darcy on the back of my bike, her tits rubbing against my back, delicate fingers wrapped around my chest. My dick starts to harden inside my jeans again. My hand isn’t enough of a release these days while I wait for her. Soon, I’ll be inside my woman.