Chapter 24
LEGION
H olidays…Most equate them with feasts, family, and friends. I grew up severely lacking in all three. To me, for years, holidays meant hunger. There’s no free lunch when school is closed, so I never felt the joy everyone else does.
The windows in her home seem like a movie screen, emanating a warm glow from the lights in her dining room and kitchen, showcasing the smiling faces of her loved ones as they gather around the table. From this angle, I’m unable to see what has been laid out for her guests, but I can imagine.
I’m certain they heard me pull up on my motorcycle.
I’m also certain I’ll be on the receiving end of resentful glares from Keegan and the members of his crew in attendance tonight, for the duration of this holiday meal.
I am most unwelcome here, though it matters not to me.
Vanna invited me out of the goodness of her beautiful heart.
She didn’t have to. The thought of me being alone for the holidays bothered her.
I would be remiss not to acknowledge the fact that she most likely invited me out of pity…
And although I fucking hate it… I will work with what I must. If pity is what gets my foot in the door of her good graces, then I shall play the pitiful part for her.
But I am no charity case, and this sharp, dark grey and burgundy Armani suit serves as a layer of psychological armor, keeping those feelings at bay.
I pull a final drag from my cigarette and toss it down on the pea-gravel section of driveway, grinding it out beneath my shoe, then remove the autumn bouquet from my saddle bag. I had it specially ordered for her, as well as the box of desserts I’ve brought.
I hope she likes these… Red, orange, and cream-colored roses, sprigs of eucalyptus, pussywillows, sunflowers, and red dahlias…
Even a single black rose, hidden within the vibrantly fall-colored arrangement, my not-so-secret I love you.
I took my intentions a step further, however, and infused a majority of the flowers with what was left of the mugwort oil blend I’ve come to call Dream A Little Dream…
I’ve also blended it with my aftershave and cologne, and the purposeful aroma has lingered quite nicely… She can’t miss it…
Vanna is already opening the door to greet me with an apprehensive smile as I ascend the porch steps.
She’s wearing a fancier apron than the one I’d seen her in last, with accents of fall leaves embroidered on it that complement her dark merlot wrap dress.
I’d drink in her curves, savor her silhouette like a fine wine, if I weren’t certain of Keegan’s watchful glare fixated on my every move.
I attempt to keep my enamored gaze on the lovely curve of her mouth.
“Hello, Damien. Come in,” she says, stepping aside and awkwardly gesturing for me to enter.
I’m immediately hit with the mouthwatering aroma of her cooking. Clearing my throat to distract from the sound of my grumbling stomach, I step inside her home, holding out the bouquet to her.
“For you, Vanna,” I say, and she takes the flowers from me with a timid glance toward Keegan, who is already seated at the head of the table, Ace in his lap, and surrounded by a few of his MC brothers and their significant others.
“Thank you for allowing me into your home on such an intimate occasion among your nearest and dearest.” Perhaps one day she will count me among them.
“These are lovely.” Her eyes drop to the bouquet.
“Puts the little centerpieces I threw together to shame.” She offers me a bashful smile, then breathes in the scent of the bouquet.
Excellent. For a brief moment, she seems puzzled by the aroma, no doubt wondering why the roses smell more like cedar and herbs than flowers.
I shift my gaze to the dining room table.
If you overlook the fact it is surrounded by bikers, the scene is something straight out of a Hallmark movie.
A burgundy tablecloth that happens to match my necktie, faux fall leaves scattered between platters of everything I’ve ever imagined a real Thanksgiving feast would have.
And I’m certain she prepared it all. Along the center of the cloth-covered table are a couple of small, pumpkin-shaped gourds filled with yellow, orange, and deep red mums. A smile of my own curves my lips.
These are the gourds she collected with Ace, carved out herself, and thoughtfully stuffed with mums.
“Perish the thought… Gourds for little vases, sweet one… How clever. This bouquet will look just fine on your island. I wouldn’t dream of competing with your thoughtful display. And might I add, your spread looks amazing.”
Keegan clears his throat loudly, and she quirks a brow.
“ I didn’t mean it like that.” I grin.
“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this time .” Her slight smile remains as she shakes her head, but I don’t miss the way her eyes quickly scan my attire. “You look great, but would you like me to take your jacket?”
“No, thank you, but you may take this for later,” I say, handing her the dessert box.
“Come, sit down.” She gestures to the table.
The only vacant seat is between Chopper and Viking… I am positive this is Keegan’s doing. Probably his insistence. Anything to make me feel as unwelcome as I already know I am.
Her words bring another grin to my face. ‘ You’re welcome to come if you can withstand the heat…’ I was forged in Hell, my love... There is but one heat capable of bringing me to my knees… And that divine region does not lie between two bikers.
I slide into the chair between them. As if on cue, they both rest their colossal, tattooed arms on the burgundy cloth, elbows claiming the table-real-estate before me. I simply rest my hands folded in my lap and sit back in the chair.
“Comfortable?” Viking sneers.
“ Quite , thank you.” I smile, unfazed by the subtle chuckling around the table as I glance at Keegan. “Lovely abode, Dean .”
Keegan pretends to be preoccupied with his son, ignoring the compliment, while I pretend to be the impressed guest. This isn’t the first time I’ve been inside their home, but it is the first time I’m seeing it with the lights on.
As my gaze wanders down the hallway beyond the kitchen, so too does my memory of the night I watched her sleep.
I needed to see her one last time before setting off on my quest for redemption. My mission was leading me away from North Carolina, and I refused to let my last memory be one of her in a wedding dress, vowing her eternal love and devotion to Keegan.
A cat learns to stalk prey in silence, despite the bell affixed to its collar.
I, too, mastered the art of stealth early on, in order to survive.
That night, I stood in the shadows of their bedroom, staring down at her.
She had one of her shapely legs atop the covers and was curled on her side, facing him.
One of her hands tucked up beneath her chin, a telltale sign of deep-rooted trauma, a subconscious need to protect her throat in the vulnerable state of sleep. Something else we have in common.
I fought the urge to draw nearer to her slumbering form, to run my hand along her exposed leg, to remain within the darkest shadows of her bedroom. And it was a good thing I did.
As if sensing the atmospheric shift of my watchful presence, Vanna nearly jackknifed in the bed from a dead sleep.
I held my breath and watched as she got out of bed, bare feet padding softly past me, toward the hall beyond her bedroom door.
I remember wondering if it had been a mother’s instinct that woke her with an urge to check on her child.
She tugged at the hem of her slightly oversized t-shirt, but it didn’t cover the glorious globes of her ass cheeks peeking out the bottom of her boy-short style underwear. She went to Ace’s room and quietly pushed open his door to slip inside.
Keegan stirred in the bed, as if sensing her absence, and I stealthily shifted my position to the hallway outside their child’s room in time to see Vanna place a soft kiss upon her sleeping son’s forehead. I wonder if there was ever a moment like this shared between my mother and I.
“ W hat’s in the box?” Viking’s gruff demand pulls my attention back to the present.
“Hopefully not an eyeball ,” Axel whispers.
“A contribution to dessert… I’m sure our gracious and gifted hostess has that well-handled. Even so, I did not want to show up empty-handed,” I say.
“Just red-handed ,” Keegan mutters under his breath.
I let his comment slide. I promised to be on my best behavior, and while his grudge is justified, I will not allow him to derail me. Not in front of Vanna.
“If that remark was in reference to the cellphone I lifted off of your Sergeant At Arms, it’s already with your cop friend,” I say.
Before Keegan can comment, Vanna’s gleeful words cut through the growing tension at the table, “ Oh! Cannoli and sfogliatelle!” She’s unboxing the Italian desserts and wrapping them on a tray for later. “Did you pick these up somewhere in town?”
“Actually, the sfogliatelle is from your hometown.” This time I allow myself a smug grin. I don’t have to look at Keegan to know he’s scowling. “I had them overnighted for you .”
She glances up at me, pleasantly surprised. “ Oh … You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“I wanted to give you… Sapore di casa .” I wink at her.
“ A taste of home?” Keegan scoffs. “ This is her home.”
Conceding to him, I raise my hand in a placating gesture. “Simply the name of the establishment.”
“Can we eat now?” Viking lets out an impatient burst of air.
“Yes, I think we’ve got everything…” Vanna says, undoing her apron as she glances around the kitchen, then double-checks the dining table. “Oh, the candles… I forgot to light them.” She tosses the apron onto the large marble island, then turns to pull open a drawer and rummages for a lighter.
“Allow me,” I insist, flipping open my Zippo as I stand to light them for her.