Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Storm
“Why is there someone at the door?” I whine, dropping my head back on the couch cushion. “I want to go back in time and not tell anyone where we live.”
It’s been hours since the funeral, and while Wilder and I opted for a quick shower to rinse off the day, Marie just got out of the tub forty minutes ago and is napping in our bed. She has her nest, but a part of me is very happy that she’s surrounded by our scents.
Marie is sleeping in one of Lore’s sweatshirts, and while I noticed that Ransom’s heavy jacket also is near her, I chose to bite my tongue. I have this very loud voice in my head telling me that he may be her soul match, which can be even worse than being away from your scent match.
The poor omega can’t get a fucking break.
“Are you going to pout or answer the door?” Wilder groans.
We’re both completely wrecked. Fuck.
Forcing myself to my feet before I have to shoot whoever is at the door for waking up my girl, I pad in bare feet across the house. I’m wearing sweatpants and absolutely nothing else, because the thought of real clothes is unacceptable.
My fingers pull open a cabinet door in the living room to grab a gun as I walk past it, and a second later I’m greeting whoever is at the front door. I refuse to be lax in my security, though I’m too lazy to check my phone to see who is on the other side of the door.
I’m an oxymoron, what can I say?
“It’s you,” I sigh, staring dispassionately at Ransom. “What do you want?”
“You know why I’m here,” he says. “And before you decide to be a smart ass, it’s not for my fucking jacket. Jesus, I couldn’t move fast enough to pull it from my saddlebag when I saw her. I’m not trying to take her from you, I just can’t ignore this.”
“She says you’re not scent matches,” I grunt. “My vote is that you’re soul matches. She’s sleeping upstairs.”
“All I know is that it feels awful the longer I’m away,” he admits.
Taking pity on the poor bastard, I step back. “Shoes go on the mat.”
“Done,” Ransom says, stomping his feet outside before pulling off his boots as he steps inside to place them in their correct placement. “Is Prez going to shoot me for not asking him to his face to transfer into his chapter?”
“Devon told us he had shit for you to do,” I reply. “Wilder isn’t the type to punish people for having prior commitments."
“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” Wilder grunts from the living room.
“Do you two always talk like cavemen?” Ransom asks, amused.
“Only when we’re exhausted. Losing Lore still doesn’t feel real,” I say, uncaring at how that sounds as I practically limp back to the living room.
“You’re armed,” he notices. “Were you planning to shoot me?”
“Only if you were an asshole. Shooting and killing are very different things.”
Wilder rolls his neck toward my voice as I walk past him, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Did Arsenal leave you any of that pot he said he had?” he asks.
“He did actually,” I say, grabbing it from where I stashed the joints. “Marie can’t smoke.”
“Did you get her knocked up already?” Ransom asks, falling onto the couch.
Wilder and I freeze guiltily before we force ourselves to relax. We don’t actually know if she’s pregnant or not, which means we don’t have shit to feel bad about. There’s no reason to borrow trouble.
“Her job drug tests,” Wilder says mildly.
I nod as I place the gun at my side, dropping my head back on the fluffy couch pillows.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear what you told Marie about her stamina,” I say, pulling out a lighter from the baggy and lighting a joint carefully.
I rotate it to ensure it’s evenly toasted, refusing to look at Ransom.
“Just because she’s not running several miles a day or hitting the gym, doesn’t mean she’s not walking miles all over the damn hospital. ”
“Fuck, I knew I was going to pay for saying that,” he groans.
“Marie internalizes shit,” Wilder says, his eyes on the joint as I take a few gentle puffs to establish an even burn.
We’re both ignoring Ransom so we won’t punch him.
I suppose this is what growth looks like.
“It’s best if you learn that now instead of seeing what it's like when she goes silent because she’s hurt. ”
“I can appreciate that. Fuck up a lot with her?” Ransom asks.
Leaning forward, I hand the joint off to Wilder first.
“You have no fucking idea,” I mutter. “I’ll put a bullet between your eyes if you fuck up like we have. That may seem hypocritical, but she doesn’t need to go through the shit twice.”
“We’re going to Illinois in the morning,” Wilder adds, taking a slow, steady hit from the joint. He’s silent for a moment as he holds it before he blows out the smoke. “Devon seems to think she needs to become better acquainted with club life.”
“I never thought I’d fall this hard at first sight for a nice girl like Marie,” Ransom says, shaking his head. “What if I fucking break her?”
“You’re already watching out for her,” Wilder says, handing him the joint. “Marie needs to feel as if you give a damn. It’s not that fucking hard. She also tends to get into trouble, so keep your weapons on you at all times.”
“Always do,” Ransom grunts, his eyes closing slightly as he holds in his hit from the joint.
Blowing it out in a cloud of smoke, he glances at the two of us.
“Does she give you gray hair? I mean, she threw off an alpha’s bark and taunted him.
Devon isn’t processing his brother’s death well, but I almost fucking shot him for what he did. ”
“So this has been going on since the beginning of the funeral, huh?” I ask, smirking. “To answer your question, yes. She does give us gray hair. Marie wants us to alpha bark her so she can fight it off. She doesn’t want to be susceptible to them.”
“She may be a normal omega on paper, but that’s not exactly stable behavior,” he groans.
“I’d say welcome to the madness, I just can’t quite yet. I need to know you can be good to her before we make you pack,” Wilder says.
Ransom is quiet while we pass the joint around until he finally growls under his breath as if making a decision.
“Bond with me,” he says. “That’s where my commitment level is. You’ll know what my intentions are at all fucking times.”
Leaning forward to place my forearms on my knees, I blink slowly to make sure I’m hearing him correctly. Am I really that high? Nope.
Ransom Myers is fucking insane. Maybe he will work out perfectly in our pack. I haven’t even bonded to my own pack mates yet. As if reading my mind, which he can’t, Wilder grunts.
“We’ll bond each other,” he decides. “We’ve been wanting to do it, we just never did. It’s not quite as dangerous if we lose someone in our pack, at least not until Marie decides we’re worthy of being bonded.”
“I fucking hate that you lost Lore,” Ransom says softly. “I’m really sorry for it. I’ve seen him around whenever he’s come to see his brother, and I can’t even believe he’s gone.”
“I keep waiting for him to come in the door,” I confess.
“It’s difficult to remember to talk about him in the past,” Wilder sighs. “Thanks for the sentiment, Ransom. We’ve been a pack for so long, it was hard to know where the other person ended. We were stuck like glue. Now… I’m just taking it one step at a time. Where do you want our bites?”
“Inner arm,” Ransom says, standing and moving over to our new president. “How do you want me to swear fealty?”
“Pretty sure that’s what you’re doing now,” Wilder says wryly, taking Ransom’s arm and bringing it up to his lips. “Last chance to back out.”
“Fuck—” Wilder’s lips twitch just before he bites down, interrupting the rest of Ransom’s sentence. “Oh goddammit.”
“It’s easier if you’re not expecting it,” I say nonchalantly. Wilder and I are tired, high, and thoroughly enjoying fucking with Ransom.
If he can’t handle this, he’s in trouble.
“Are we going to talk about ground rules?” Ransom asks cautiously, moving toward me when Wilder lifts his head and waves him on.
He doesn’t really need to bite us back at this point, and he’s the new guy here. He’ll feel some of our emotions with our bites, and hopefully it’ll help him acclimate faster to us. We aren’t people you fuck with, and we’re not the most stable on a good day.
Marie helps calm some of our craziness, but in other respects she throws gasoline on it. We’re feral about her safety, even if it is a work in progress. One percenters aren’t the best about limiting danger in their lives.
“Like what?” I ask, raising my brow.
“You’re both insane, huh? Is it the kind of psychosis you take meds for?” he asks.
Ransom continues to talk nervously right up until I bite him, and he stifles his pained sounds to keep from waking up Marie.
“There aren’t meds for the kind of insanity we suffer,” Wilder says mildly, stealing the joint back as Ransom heads to the kitchen to wash his bites. “Think we’re freaking him out yet, baby?”
“Definitely,” I chuckle, getting up to walk over to him. “Take your hit and then bite me. Make me an honest alpha.”
“Very funny,” he mutters, his eyes dancing with amusement as he takes a small puff of the joint.
The last few days have been filled with pain, and his eyes have been flat and dead.
It’s nice to see there’s still a spark inside of him that finds things amusing.
“Even when you were a prospect, Lore and I thought your butt looked good in a pair of jeans.”
“Glad to know my ass game brought all the bikers to the yard,” I snort. I’m really feeling the pot now. Fuck.
Wilder sputters before pulling me down to my knees.
“Is this going to get kinky?” Ransom asks, leaning against the wall as he watches us. “Do I need to leave for this?”
“Take the joint and go fuck yourself,” Wilder suggests.
“My fuckery has nothing to do with this,” he says, walking over to take the joint.