Chapter Eight
Violet
The clubhouse’s backyard was shrouded in darkness, save for the dim glow of a single bulb above the back door. Gravel crunched beneath our boots, the sound sharp in the silence.
I turned to him, my heart hammering. His blue eyes locked onto mine, reflecting a storm of emotions that mirrored my own. Without a word, he stepped closer, the heat from his body radiating against the chill of the air.
His hands found my waist, pulling me into him. The world narrowed down to the touch of his calloused fingers through the thin fabric of my shirt, the warmth of his breath on my skin.
His lips crashed onto mine, insistent and demanding. The kiss ignited something fierce and desperate, a fire that consumed all thought. I melted against him, tangling my fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck, surrendering to the onslaught of sensation.
But as quickly as the blaze had erupted, it was smothered. March pulled away, leaving me gasping for air, my lips tingling from the loss of contact.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched tight. The guilt that shadowed his features was unmistakable. Ben -- my brother, his best friend -- loomed between us once more. I’d thought we’d moved past this last night, but apparently not. Or maybe, despite how much he said he wanted me or needed me, some part of him felt like he was betraying his friendship with my brother? I wouldn’t know if I didn’t ask.
“March?” I reached for him, my chest constricting with a mix of confusion and fear. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, the lines of his face hardening. “This… us… It’s not simple, Vi.”
“Nothing about life is simple,” I replied, my breath forming clouds in the cold air. I could feel the weight of his internal battle, the struggle between desire and duty. “It’s not supposed to be. Living is messy, painful, but it can also be beautiful. Those beautiful moments are what make the rest of it worthwhile.”
“Ben wouldn’t have wanted --” He stopped himself, the sentence hanging unfinished, heavy with implication.
“Ben’s gone, March.” The words were a knife in my own heart, but they needed to be said. “We can’t keep living for a ghost. And I’m not sure my brother would have disapproved. He knew you better than anyone. If he was ever going to trust someone not to break my heart, it would be you.”
He looked at me then, really looked, and I saw it -- the flicker of resolve behind his eyes. But it was the pain, raw and unfiltered, that held my gaze. Pain for the past we’d lost, for the future we were uncertain how to claim.
“Violet…” His hand lifted, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face with a tenderness that belied his rugged exterior.
I leaned into his touch, willing him to understand that some risks were worth taking. That even in the chaos of our world, there was a chance for something real.
“Let’s not think about tomorrow, just tonight,” I said softly, daring to close the space between us once more. “We can take things one day at a time.”
I stepped back, the cold biting through my clothes as I put distance between us. March’s eyes were a storm of blue, churning with conflict and something deeper, something that sent shivers down my spine that weren’t from the chill in the air.
“Do you regret this? Us?”
He remained silent for a heartbeat too long, and I felt a pang of fear that maybe he did. Maybe we were just two lost souls colliding in the night, destined to crash and burn. But then he moved, his hand reaching out, slow but steady.
He took my hand, his grip strong and warm. “I don’t regret a single damn thing.”
The sincerity in his eyes pinned me in place. His touch seared into me, branding his promise onto my skin. And just like that, the world shifted beneath us, our connection solidifying into something unshakeable. Even if Ben came between us again, I knew we’d get past it, just like we had now. Nothing in life worth having was ever easy, and that was doubly true of relationships.
The air between us, once heavy with unspoken fears, now felt alive with possibility. My heart hammered against my ribs as I leaned in, pressing my lips to his with renewed conviction. This kiss wasn’t just about seeking comfort -- it was a declaration. I was his and he was mine.
His response was immediate, powerful. March’s arms enveloped me, pulling me into the fortress of his embrace. His touch was a shield, his body a barrier against the chaos of the world outside our secluded haven.
“I swear on everything I am -- I’ll keep you safe.”
In the cocoon of his arms, I allowed myself to believe in the sanctuary we could create together. Other than the one incident, things had been quiet here. It made me wonder if we’d have lots of days like this, or if my past would come back to haunt me. It didn’t seem like those men were looking for me. Even if they were, how would they find me? Now that I was here, now that I had March back in my life, things would be okay.
The pulse of his heart thrummed against my cheek, a steadfast drum in the stillness of the night. His arms, my sanctuary, tightened just enough to remind me I wasn’t alone.
“March,” I whispered, the courage surging like adrenaline through my veins. “I’m scared.”
His embrace didn’t falter. It was the rock in a raging sea. “Talk to me.”
My breath hitched as I pulled back, looking up into eyes that had seen so much yet still managed to hold such gentleness for me. My hand instinctively rested on my still flat belly in a protective gesture. “It’s not just us anymore.”
He listened, his gaze never leaving mine. The dim light from the clubhouse windows cast stark shadows across his face, accentuating the lines of concern etched there. But he stayed silent, giving me the space to voice the fears that gnawed at my soul.
“Violence… retaliation… It’s part of the world you live in. Part of the world we live in now. What if --” I swallowed hard. “When the mayor sent those men here, I could have died. You could have. Does a baby even stand a chance?”
He took my hands in his, grounding me. “We’ll face it all. Together.”
“Can we really protect our baby from --”
“From anything and everything,” he assured me, his conviction sharp as steel. “You have my word. You’ll never be alone in this. You have me and everyone else here. The kid is going to have a bunch of overprotective uncles.”
His words reassured me, even though the fear didn’t completely dissipate. I wasn’t sure it ever would. At least, not until this town felt completely safe.
* * *
March
Life at the clubhouse wasn’t always peaceful. With the place filled with mostly single men, there was a party more often than not. Although, not quite as much as since Jo and Eliza had joined us. At least, not the same types. Even then, it wasn’t like we’d been wild. Not like some of the clubs I’d met. Tonight, music had been blasting from the speakers in the common room before it had even gotten dark outside.
The night had turned ink-black by the time we decided to retreat from the solitude of the clubhouse’s shadowy backyard. Violet’s hand in mine was a lifeline, her skin warm against the cool evening air. We moved together, almost as if we’d been doing it all our lives.
Our room became our sanctuary, the door shutting out the world. And yes, I was starting to think of this as our space. She still hadn’t moved out of the guest room, but I had a feeling it was only a matter of time.
Clothes fell away, and we tumbled to the bed, getting tangled in the sheets. I felt desperate for her, hungry. The way she kissed me back said she felt the same.
I pulled her closer, my hands exploring every inch of her soft skin. She moaned, arching into my touch, her nipples hardening against my chest. We rolled over, and Vi spread her legs invitingly, revealing her glistening pink pussy.
I kissed my way down her stomach, not stopping until my shoulders pressed her thighs wider apart. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
I pushed my tongue inside her, tasting her sweetness. She gasped, her hips bucking off the bed. I pulled away, leaning back to stare at the perfection laid out before me. She watched me intently, her eyes filled with trust and submission.
“Are you ready for me?” I asked.
She nodded shakily. “Please.”
Coming up over her, I wedged my hips between her thighs. She welcomed me inside, her legs wrapping around my waist. I slid in easily, nearly groaning at how amazing she felt. We moved together in a coordinated rhythm, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. She arched her back, pushing her breasts out, begging for more.
I reached between us, rubbing her little clit, and thrust into her again and again. She screamed in pleasure. I didn’t stop, didn’t slow. I took her like a man possessed, and maybe I was.
“You like that?” I asked, my voice rough.
“Yes.” She whimpered. “Please, don’t stop.”
I pulled all the way out and plunged back in, harder this time, hitting that sweet spot inside her. She cried out, her nails digging into my back. I reached down, pinching her nipple, eliciting another moan.
I picked up speed, pounding into her with unrelenting force. She met every thrust, panting and writhing beneath me. I couldn’t hold back anymore. My cock throbbed with need. With one last hard thrust, I came inside her, my whole body shuddering with release.
We lay there panting, our hearts racing.
“That was amazing,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. Even last time… Well, this was just different.”
I smiled, knowing this was only the beginning.
I helped her out of bed, and we cleaned up together in the shower before lying down once more. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep in my arms. But peace didn’t claim her. Instead, tortured whispers slipped from her lips -- names that knifed through the quiet, had me focused on what she was saying. Michael Wright. Tyler Murray. The ghosts of her past demanding attention.
I disentangled myself gently. Pulling on my jeans, I made my way through the clubhouse, searching for the only other hacker I knew. Absolem was outside, alone, smoke curling around his solemn face. My approach was silent, but his eyes flicked to me, recognizing the urgency before I spoke.
“I’ve got two names: Michael Wright, Tyler Murray. Dig up everything. It’s priority. I think they’re in my hometown.”
His nod was curt, blue eyes steeling over. “Consider it done, March. They won’t hide long.”
He didn’t even ask why I wanted to know. Bastard probably already knew. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what would pull me from bed when I had a naked woman in my arms.
“Thanks,” I muttered, clapping a hand on his shoulder before retreating back into our makeshift haven, where nightmares dared to tread. Violet’s nightmare was now mine to wage war against. And I’d spill blood for justice, no matter the cost.
Returning inside, I found Violet stirring, her eyelashes fluttering open. She searched my face for something -- reassurance, perhaps.
“Hey,” I whispered, slipping beside her, enveloping her in an embrace that sought to banish the shadows from her eyes. “You okay?”
Her lips curved into a brave smile, one that fought back the remnants of her nightmare. “Better than fine,” she murmured.
I held her a little longer before urging her from the bed. We dressed in silence, the fabric of our clothes whispering over skin still warm from each other’s touch.
Together, we stepped into the common room where the rest of the club moved about, oblivious to the tempest brewing beneath my calm surface. Violet squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back.
I didn’t know what we were celebrating tonight, but it seemed everyone was still going strong. The thump of bass pulsed through the clubhouse walls. Violet released my hand, and I watched as she moved among the brothers, her dark hair catching glints of light. Despite the horrors that had chased her into sleep, she seemed fine now.
She turned, those whiskey eyes finding mine, and there was a spark there. She waited as I caught up to her, my hand finding hers.
“Let’s dance,” I suggested. It wasn’t something I’d particularly enjoyed, but I knew Vi did, and I’d do anything for her. Even make a fool of myself in front of everyone here.
Violet nodded, a smile playing on her lips. She fit perfectly against me as we swayed to the beat, her curves molded to my frame. Her head rested against my chest. This moment, this connection, it was what I fought for -- what I would die for.
“Feel that?” I whispered, my mouth close to her ear.
“Your heart,” she murmured back.
“Yeah.” My arms tightened around her. “Beating for you.”
“Mine’s yours,” she confessed.
The world narrowed down to the space between us, the shared warmth of our bodies, and the promise of tomorrow. As we danced, I felt the weight of the past and the pull of the future. With Violet in my arms, I knew one thing for certain -- we weren’t just surviving.
We were living.
The night wrapped around us as I lowered my head to hers. I kissed her like my life depended on it, not caring if my brothers saw. They’d give me shit later, but right now, I needed to prove to both myself and her that she was mine. Violet melted against me, and I held her tight, never wanting the moment to end.
In her, I’d found a reason to keep going, to forgive myself. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.