Chapter Six
I’M HOME.
When Beth launched herself at her father, he caught her with ease, as he did when she was a small child.
His strong arms closed around her in the familiar and comforting hug she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed.
He smelled of leather and sandalwood with a hint of the tobacco he still thought Shell didn’t know he indulged in occasionally.
She knew. Of course, she knew. The man couldn’t hide anything from his ol’ lady.
For one moment, everything in the world made sense. The stress, fear, and pain stayed back in Texas as Copper’s embrace transported her back to a time when life was simple, when her father’s hug could cure every manner of ail and heartache.
“ ’Bout time you came home to us.” His deep, gruff voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket, chasing away the chill that had settled in her heart months ago.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his massive chest. “Sorry I’ve stayed away so long.”
He grunted. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
If only it were that simple.
“Enough! Stop hogging her. I’m the one who pushed her out of my body after hours and hours of painful labor,” Shell said, swatting Copper’s thick arms. “It’s my turn.”
Copper kissed the top of her head as he chuckled. “Can’t help it if I give better hugs.” The second he released her, Shell grabbed hold and yanked her into an equally strong embrace.
“Can’t argue with that,” she said as she hugged her daughter. “Nothing better than being in your dad’s arms.”
Beth held her mom just as tightly, inhaling the sweet scent of the vanilla lotion Shell had worn for as long as she could remember.
“Especially when I’m naked.”
Beth barked out a laugh. “God, Mom, I’ve been home for three seconds. Do I really need to hear that shit already?”
They both burst out laughing as Copper muttered something about dragging Shell to his office.
Growing up around the club, Beth learned about the birds, bees, and entire animal kingdom at an early age.
PDA was commonplace, as was raunchy humor, swearing, and innuendos.
She’d never censored herself around her parents, and they didn’t hide much from her either.
“God, I missed you, my baby girl,” Shell whispered.
Tears sprang to Beth’s eyes. “Missed you too, Mom. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
Clearing her throat, Shell pulled back but kept her hands on Beth’s shoulders.
“None of that. You’re here now. We’re not going to waste time on apologies.
” She smiled, then ran her hands over Beth’s hair, ending by cupping Beth’s cheeks.
“I’d almost forgotten how b-beautiful you are.
” She blinked rapidly as though fighting tears.
Beth rolled her eyes as she fought to flinch from her mom’s hand on her sore cheek. Makeup did a fantastic job of concealing the redness, but it still stung when touched. “Mom, you’re ridiculous,” she said as she pulled her face back.
“You must be starving,” Shell said as Copper slung an arm across her mom’s shoulders, pulling her tightly against him, probably to save Beth from more of her motherly fussing.
“We got a shit ton of food cooking out back.”
“I can smell it. I’m starved.” She turned, wanting to share a look with Saint, maybe thank him properly now that they’d arrived, but the space behind her was empty, and his bike was gone.
“Oh. Where…” What the hell? Maybe he’d wandered past her while she’d been distracted by her parents. But where was his bike?
“Come on.” Copper pulled her to his other side, steering her and Shell toward the side of the clubhouse. “I’m fucking starved.”
“Yeah.” Beth glanced around, frowning as she let Copper guide her to where the rest of the club milled around, eating and drinking without Saint anywhere in sight. He couldn’t have vanished, so where the hell did he run off to?
“Oh, my fucking God, she really is here!” Maverick let out a whoop and charged her way from where he’d been hanging out with Zach at the grill.
As a kid, he’d been her favorite ‘uncle.’ Covered from head to toe in tattoos, he’d been like a walking coloring book.
Mav was loud, wild, inappropriate, and never-ending fun.
He used to let her color over his tattoos with her markers, making them all various shades of pink and purple.
Hours of her childhood consisted of redecorating his colorful arms and legs.
He plowed into her, whipping her off her feet into a twirl that had her laughing.
“Shit,” he said, panting. “That was easier when you were seven, and I was in my thirties.”
“Careful, old man, you don’t want to throw your back out. You won’t be able to do all those dirty things to Stephanie that you two freaks get up to.”
Mav threw back his head and laughed. “Shit, Cop, she really was raised by a feral bunch of bikers, wasn’t she?” He ruffled her hair like she was still a kid.
“Hey.” She swatted his hands. “Go bother someone else.”
“Good to have you back, kiddo.”
Kiddo.
They all used to call her that. As much as she’d hated it during her teen years, hearing the familiar nickname again nearly brought her to tears.
The next few hours followed a similar pattern. Beth managed to shovel a few bites into her mouth between hugs, hellos, and introductions. Everyone wanted to reminisce and welcome her home, which she appreciated.
But after two hours, she needed a break. Her back ached from days on a motorcycle, her cheeks ached from smiling, and the damn scarf around her neck was soaked with sweat, but couldn’t be removed because of the fucking bruises.
Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed the bruising, and the club appeared to buy her flimsy I’ve-been-too-stressed-and-busy excuse for her distance.
After a lengthy chat with her mom, Izzy, Toni, and Stephanie, the women who’d played the most pivotal role in her upbringing, she’d needed a break.
They’d rambled on about how proud they were of her, how they admired her independence and drive, and how happy she should be with the woman she’s become.
If they only knew.
Every word they spoke stabbed into her facade, carving a chunk out of the bullshit story she’d sold them.
Every compliment and gush made her feel like the worst kind of fraud.
What would they think if they knew the truth?
If they knew she’d let a man hurt her? That she’d stayed with a man who belittled, humiliated, and hurt her?
They’d be devastated.
All of a sudden, she couldn’t tolerate another second of the conversation.
“Excuse me,” she blurted as she shot to her feet.
Four sets of startled eyes stared up at her from where the ladies sat at the picnic table.
“You okay, sweetie?” Shell asked.
“Yeah, of course. I’m just gonna grab a drink and…” She glanced around. Come on, somewhere there had to be an excuse. Gator sat alone, removed from the group, frowning at his phone. “Um, grab and drink and say hi to Gator. I haven’t had a chance to chat with him.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’m glad you’re having fun.” Shell squeezed her hand and grinned the same smile she’d been giving Beth all night—part adoration, part excitement, and all love.
“Do not let that man talk himself into your panties, missy,” Stephanie said as she shook her finger and glared in Beth’s direction. “He is a menace.”
Laughing, Beth lifted her hands in surrender.
“Don’t worry about that. That man is way too insane for me.
” And that was the truth. As much as she loved Gator and as good friends as they’d become over the last few years, he was too unpredictable and wild for her, not to mention she had no interest in putting him in Copper’s murderous crosshairs.
After refilling her cup at the keg and a second for Gator, she wandered to where he sat alone in an Adirondak chair, removed from the rest of the group. Two other chairs, one on either side of him, remained empty. He stared down at his phone with a very un-Gator-like scowl.
“Mind if I join you?”
Gator’s head popped up. As soon as he laid eyes on her, his expression morphed into one of happiness. He set his phone face down on the armrest and grinned the smile that had charmed many, many brave women over the years. “If one of those beers is for me, then you better sit that sweet ass down.”
Instantly, her mood lifted. Gator had that effect. His personality was so out there that she could do nothing but smile in his wacky presence. “It sure is.”
“Well then, cop a squat, princess,” he said, patting the chair on his right.
“You better not start in on that princess shit,” she said as she handed him his Solo cup of beer and took a seat. “You know I hate that.”
Grinning like the devil he was, he shrugged. “But you’re the club princess. It’s straight-up facts.”
Beth glared at him. “Unless you want me to bite your other leg, you will not call me princess.”
He snorted, then sipped his beer. “Fine, be like that.”
The sun had set, and darkness wrapped around the clubhouse and the surrounding area.
Screw lit a bonfire a while ago. It roared about twenty feet away from where she and Gator sat, chasing away the slight nighttime chill.
A few of the kids roasted marshmallows, stuffing them between crackers and chocolate to make a delicious, gooey treat.
Some of the guys flirted with their guests while others chatted in groups, drinking and laughing.
Beth couldn’t help but smile as she watched the antics unfolding.
This was home.
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. He might be off his rocker, but Gator could read people in a way most couldn’t. Without words, he seemed to realize she needed some time to process. Of course, he couldn’t keep his trap shut for too long.
“So, saw you getting grilled by the ol’ lady brigade.”
“Not grilled, just… told how amazing I am. It was super uncomfortable.”
He chuckled. “Aww, p-cess, they just love you.”
She arched an eyebrow as she stared at his mischievous smirk. “P-cess? Seriously?”