Chapter Fourteen
Violet
I awoke with the sharp edge of dawn slicing through the room, but the chill in my bones was soothed by the solid warmth of March’s arms around me. His chest was a shield against the creeping light, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath my ear, lulling the remnants of yesterday’s terror into silence.
“Morning,” he murmured, and I felt the rumble of his voice more than I heard it.
“Morning,” I whispered back, not daring to move, as if shifting would shatter the fragile peace that had settled over us.
Someone tried to open the door and March tensed, every muscle coiling like a spring. But then, he heard Absolem’s voice call to him. He stood and went to open the door. Absolem glanced at me before focusing on March again. “It’s done.”
“Done?” I echoed, sitting up. What was he talking about?
“Those bastards won’t be breathing anywhere near you again.” March folded his arms, looking both protective and intimidating.
“You’re safe,” Absolem confirmed with a single nod.
I still wasn’t sure what that meant. How did he know? No, wait. Did I really want to know? Maybe it was better if I just accepted what he said and left it at that.
“Good.” March’s response was curt.
Absolem gave one last nod, his blue eyes locking with mine for a moment that seemed to stretch too long, before he disappeared, shutting the door behind him. What had he been trying to convey with that look?
March came back to bed, sliding back under the covers.
“March?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I meant it for everything -- for the safety, for the sanctuary of his arms, for the promise in his eyes. It didn’t matter how they knew those men wouldn’t bother me again. Whatever they’d done, I’d just accept it.
March wrapped me in his warm embrace. Thanks to him and the men here at the Underland MC, I’d found the courage to hope, to breathe, to stand once more.
March and I went back to bed for another hour or two, but when I knew I wouldn’t be falling back to sleep, I got up and showered. After I pulled on some clothes, I left the room to see who else might be awake. I found Jo and Eliza in the kitchen, looking over recipe books.
“What are you two doing?” I asked.
“Thought we’d have a party of sorts tonight. Good food and music. You in?” Jo asked.
“Sure. Just let me know how I can help.”
Eliza sighed and shook her head. “Shouldn’t have said that. Now she’ll have you doing all the kitchen stuff she doesn’t like.”
“As long as we’re all aware I’m a dismal cook, then I’m game for whatever. I can follow instructions. Mostly.” We wouldn’t discuss the fact that following a recipe often ended in disaster when I was the one cooking or baking.
Jo and Eliza picked out a few desserts for us to make, and Jo got me started on one of them. I sifted flour, the white powder dusting over the wooden countertop like a fresh layer of snow. My hands moved with more surety than they had in days, molding dough as if to reshape my own destiny. I had to admit it was rather fun.
“Looks good,” Jo murmured, her voice a low hum beside me. She cracked eggs with a precision that made her seem like a pro.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“Can I help?” Eliza’s eyes seemed to gleam with happiness. “Jo put me on the sidelines.”
“Sure.” I patted a spot next to me. “You can help me knead this.”
As our hands worked in tandem, kneading and rolling, it felt like we were growing even closer. The scent of baking bread began to fill the air, warm and comforting. I hadn’t realized until now how much I needed this.
“Smells like hope,” Eliza said, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Hope,” I echoed, letting the word sit on my tongue, tasting its sweetness. It was a fragile thing, but it was growing, fed by the nourishment of kindred spirits.
“Damn right,” Jo added with a grin. “We’ll bake it into every damn loaf, cupcake, and anything else we make. Not only have the three of us had a rough time, but the men here could use some peace as well.”
As we baked and cooked, laughter bubbled up, unexpected and bright, as we stood shoulder to shoulder. The hope I’d begun to feel before now blossomed into something more. The future looked far brighter than it ever had. It beckoned like warm sunshine, a path unwinding from the shadows, and I was ready to walk it -- with these women, with the Underland MC, and with March by my side.
Once my part in the kitchen was done, I headed to the common room to help with the decorations. I wasn’t entirely sure why we were going all out with this, but it was kind of fun.
I hoisted a string of fairy lights above my head, the tiny bulbs winking like distant stars against the twilight canvas of the clubhouse ceiling. The soft glow cast long shadows on the walls, transforming the place into something otherworldly.
“Higher, Violet,” Jo said. I stretched on tiptoes, muscles protesting, attempting to secure the lights.
“What the fuck?” I nearly toppled from the top of the table at Tweedle’s outburst. “Why the hell is a pregnant woman doing this? Hell, all of you are pregnant! You should have asked one of us for help.”
He came over and helped me down, then hung the lights himself.
“Perfect.” Eliza clapped her hands. “It looks amazing in here.”
Jo had pushed a few tables together and draped them in red tablecloths. Someone had put on classic rock, but turned the volume down low enough we could all talk and hear each other without shouting.
“Let’s get this party started.” Cheshire’s grin flickered into place as everyone began to file in, their heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. We still had two tables with chairs we could sit at, and the bar had plenty of room. But we’d opened up the center of the room in case anyone wanted to dance.
Hatter entered and gave me a silent nod. I waved back and wondered what to expect of the evening. I’d thought this would be more a casual buffet type of thing, but it was looking more like an actual party. The longer I was around the club, the more I realized they seemed to celebrate even the small things.
The air soon thrummed with conversation and laughter. The men told tall tales, or talked about funny things that happened while they were in the military. Cheshire pulled Eliza onto the makeshift dance floor, while Jo bustled to and from the kitchen. March stayed beside me, holding my hand.
“Food’s ready!” Jo cried out, snagging everyone’s attention. March placed his hand at the center of my back and guided me over to the tables of food. He picked up a paper plate and started filling it. When I went to grab one, he tugged me closer.
“This one is yours,” he said. “I’ll come back for mine.”
I stared up at him. “I’m an adult. You know that, right?”
He nodded. “Yep. It did cross my mind, more than once. Especially when I had you digging your nails into my shoulders and screaming my name.”
My cheeks flamed and I gasped, glancing around to see who might have heard him. The way Cheshire snickered said he had. Damnit. After March gathered enough food to feed three of me, he set the plate on one of the remaining tables and pulled out a chair for me.
March returned with his own plate as well as a bottle of water for me and a beer for him. He set everything down and claimed the spot next to me. I’d only taken a few bites when Cheshire came over with Eliza, and they sat down in the remaining two seats. I glanced to my right and saw Jo, Hatter, Rabbit, and Absolem were at the other table.
As night deepened, glasses clinked in honor and remembrance as the men lost themselves in the days when they lost brothers. I wondered if this was what family was supposed to be like. Ever since Ben had left to join the Marines, I’d suffered in silence. My home life had been awful, but I’d done my best to endure it. Not once had I ever experienced a true family dinner or holiday. It was starting to look like this would be my first year to get to experience those things.
Cheshire and Eliza got up to dance again, and March scooted closer to me. He tipped his head toward the back hallway, and I nodded. Didn’t matter why he wanted to head that way, I was on overload. Too much socializing at once wore me out.
Except he didn’t take me out the back door or to our room. Instead, he leaned against the wall and pulled me closer to him. He breathed in my scent and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“What’s wrong, Marcus?” I asked.
“What happened to you… it tore me up. Even now, I’m scared I’ll wake up and this will have been a dream, that you’ll still be gone. We were too lax and they were able to come in here and snatch you. Hell, we didn’t even realize it. What sort of man does that make me?”
I reached up to cup his cheek. “Clearly, the kind who beats himself up over things we can’t change. I don’t blame you, not even a little. It happened. They didn’t hurt me much. I’ll be fine, the baby will be too.”
“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently, placing his calloused hand over mine. The touch sent a shiver up my spine. “I can’t change the past, but I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
“I --” How could I find the words? How could I tell him that despite everything, he made me feel safe? Cherished? When he said he wasn’t ever leaving me, then… did it mean he wanted forever with me? Did I dare hope that’s what it meant? The way he’d talked, I’d thought he might, but he hadn’t been clear enough. After all, he could have easily grown tired of me at some point and made me leave. This had been his home first.
“All I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe. To give you a life far away from the dangers that follow men like me. But damn it, I want you here, with me, always. Keeping my distance was the wrong move. So maybe keeping you by my side is what I need to do.” He sighed and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m not good at this kind of thing, but, Violet Benson, I love you. I know I’ve said it before, but I want to make sure you know I meant it. I’ll tell you a hundred times a day if I need to.”
“March…” Love bloomed in my chest, fierce and undeniable. “I love you too.”
His smile was full of warmth, the kind that reached deep into my soul and set it ablaze. He leaned in, and his lips met mine in a kiss that spoke of promises and a future I’d never dared to dream of before coming here.
“Whatever comes our way,” he murmured against my mouth, “we’ll face it together.”
“Together,” I affirmed, knowing that with him, I could face anything.
He took my hand and led me to the end of the corridor and out the back door. We stepped into the moonlit night, and I breathed in the frosty air. The door shut behind us, but I could still hear the muffled sounds of laughter and music.
“Beautiful night,” March murmured, turning to face me.
“Beautiful company,” I replied, daring to meet his gaze.
He chuckled, a sound that rumbled through him, and reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered, tracing the line of my jaw before cupping my cheek. I leaned into the warmth of his palm, closing my eyes for a brief moment.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been called that before,” he said. “I think you’re the one who’s beautiful.”
I shook my head. I’d never once thought of myself that way, but March had a vitality to him that drew people to him wherever he went. Even here, I saw the way he caught everyone’s attention when he entered the room.
His thumb grazed my bottom lip. “I can’t promise it’ll always be easy --”
“Who wants easy?” I cut him off, opening my eyes to the fierce determination shining in his. “Besides, isn’t life supposed to be messy?”
“Damn right.” He grinned before his lips descended on mine.
The kiss was everything -- passion and promise entwined. Every fear, every doubt I’d had since coming here, melted away under the intensity of his mouth moving with mine. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer until there was no space between us, until I could feel every line of his body pressed to mine.
“March,” I gasped when we finally broke apart, both of us breathless. “I love you.”
“Love you more, Vi,” he vowed. His blue eyes blazed with a fierce protectiveness that seared straight to my soul.
“Show me,” I whispered, needing more than words.
And he did. With every kiss, every caress, March reaffirmed the depth of his love. The world outside -- the danger, the uncertainty -- faded away until there was only us, only this moment.
We eventually returned to the celebration, our hands clasped tightly. The music enveloped us once more, but the dance floor seemed less daunting now. We moved together, lost in the rhythm, surrounded by the family we had found within the Underland MC.
Laughter rang out, glasses clinked, and the savory scent of the feast surrounded us. This was more than a party. It was a celebration of life.
“Home,” I said quietly, looking around at the faces illuminated by the flickering lights.
“Home,” March agreed, his arm slipping around my waist.
And as the night carried on, with every smile shared and every note played, hope bloomed -- a fierce, unyielding thing. We were part of something indestructible here, bound by loyalty, forged in adversity.
Together, we looked toward a future bright with possibility, cocooned in the love and support of my newfound family. The Underland MC wasn’t just a place. It was where my life began anew.