Chapter 3MarxLovely
Marx
I make my way through the farmhouse, stopping here and there to look at the pictures of Chewy and her brothers lining the walls.
There’s one of them in sports uniforms, another with their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, smiling.
Well, the boys are smiling, Chewy is staring down the lens in that unnerving way of hers.
My lips tug up at the sight. I move further down the line, finally coming to the hall cupboard where Mama Debs directed me.
Opening the door a fresh linen scent hits me, the towels inside are fluffy as hell so I know they’re going to feel like heaven after days of sitting in the hospital.
Opening doors until I find the downstairs bathroom, I step inside and rid myself of my clothing as quickly as I can.
I never noticed it so much when I was on that hard ass chair in Lovely’s room, but now that I’m out in the world the guys were right, I downright reek.
Hanging a towel on the rail I notice the pile of clothes left on the vanity.
I have no idea how the hell she did it, but Mama Debs has left my own clean clothing for me.
Shit, if she wasn’t Pops’ woman I’d try and set her up with Mad Dog.
Speaking of, I need to sit down with him and the rest of my men.
I guess that’ll have to wait until after I sleep. Mama Debs’ orders.
Cranking the water on, I step in immediately, welcoming the cold water on my skin, the blast waking me up a little before it grows warmer.
The water beats down on my shoulders and back and I can feel my age.
My back cracks like a damned glow stick these days.
Grabbing the Old Spice body wash, I can’t help the smirk that paints my face knowing I’ll smell like Pops.
I can’t believe the old man has not only opened his home to us, but from what I could see driving in, has also arranged extra accommodation for the club.
I know when he first turned up he was nothing but a pain in the ass, I mean, he still is, but shit, there isn’t a man, or a family I’d want at my back more than the Tombs.
They should really patch in. Maybe when shit settles down I’ll bring it up in Church.
Washing off the suds I face the water, palms to the wall, head angled down so the water rolls down my back, washing away dirt, dust and hospital funk.
Closing my eyes I take two long, deep breaths, turn off the water, dry myself and dress in quick succession.
Looking at my dirty clothes I contemplate what to do with them.
They’re stained with Lovely’s blood and the sight makes my hands shake and my throat tighten up.
She’s lying in the hospital, without her little girl because of me and here I am wanting to make her mine.
I don’t fucking deserve a woman like her.
She thinks I keep her at arm’s length because I think she’s weak.
That couldn’t be further from the truth.
I keep her at arm’s length because she scares the fuck out of me.
That little woman survived shit that could break a grown man, and yet she’s out here, eyes wide open, experiencing everything the world has to offer with little to no judgement.
She’s kind and loving, mothering everyone she comes into contact with, and yet like a Mama Bear she will throw down with the best of them.
Case in point, the pep talk she gave me at Christmas when she basically told me to get my head outta my ass.
Lovely is like a fucking phoenix, she walked through fire and came out the other side as pure light.
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, “Leave your clothes on the floor, e tama , I’ll put them in the incinerator when you’re done. I have a load to do anyway,” Mama Debs’ voice calls through the door.
Incinerator? What? I’m frozen in place with confusion and just cannot wrap my head around this new information, even though shit like this is par for the course with these guys.
Someone’s fist bangs against the door, “Get out here, Son. Your men are asking for updates,.”
Opening the door Mad Dog stares at me mid-knock. “Hey Dad. Did you know these guys have an incinerator?”
His brows hit his hairline before a thoughtful look comes over his face, “Is that so? And how big is this incinerator?”
“Big enough to get rid of the half blown up cow carcass the kids were experimenting with,” Mama Debs replies, bustling past.
“Well, remind me never to piss you people off,” Mad Dog mumbles as Mama Debs cackles, carrying my dirty washing with her. “Come on, Son,” Dad’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder and he guides me down the hall to what looks like a living room.
One half of the room is packed with kids’ toys and a pretty couch Blanche, Nat and Mira are perched on, kids surrounding them.
Little Bee is sitting on the floor at her aunt’s feet, her dark hair pulled up into two cute pigtails.
She looks up, staring directly at me for a moment before a smile blooms across her face, showing off her little teeth.
She leans forward, planting her hands on the floor, using them to balance as she gets her feet under her.
She pushes up and then she’s running to me.
I meet her halfway, swinging her up into my arms. Bee throws her arms around my neck and cuddles in.
I’m not sure how I feel, that the first time I’ve held this little girl is days after her mother risked her life to save me.
Something about that really hits home and I hold her to me, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat.
“Looks good on you, brother,” Rhodie smirks, passing me to perch himself on the arm of a large leather sofa where the wounded seem to be propped up.
I let out a whistle, calling everyone to attention.
“I’m calling Church tomorrow,-” I hold my hand up, stopping any comments from my men that we need to act fast. “At the moment, we’re hurting.
We have two family members in the hospital and we have injuries.
They’ll be bringing Fox out of his induced coma tomorrow morning, and Lovely should wake up any time now.
Tonight we rest, lay low, enjoy each other and enjoy the home the Tombs’ have given us.
Tomorrow we plan our hit on the fuckers who did this.
” I nod once, before looking every person in the room in the eye.
I want them to know that we’re all on the same page.
We’re in this together and I have their backs as much as they have mine.
Walking over to my men on the couch, I make sure to check in with each of them. As expected Dex and Judge wave away my concern.
“Pres, this shit is for the birds,” Rider whines.
He’s perched on the couch, but he’s not sitting square. Instead he’s leaning on an angle, a donut pillow under one side of his ass. I raise my brows at his positioning. Rider huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, glaring at the men in the room.
“Go on Rider, tell Pres what happened,” Flack goads from his seat in an armchair nearby.
Rider mumbles something but I can’t quite make it out.
“Yeah, Rider,” Mira pipes up. “Tell us where you were hit.” She grins up at Tank, his arm over her shoulders.
“I was hitintheass,” he mumbles.
“What the hell did you say?”
“I said, I was hit in the ASS.” Rider’s voice grows in volume until he yells the ending.
Bee’s head snaps around to look at Rider, she opens her mouth and a loud laugh erupts from her body, shaking her little frame.
I can’t help myself, hearing her little girl giggles and knowing the brother who is the biggest pain in the ass got shot in the ass, well, I lose it along with everyone else.
“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up, fuckers,” Rider grumbles.
“Hold up, isn’t this the second time you’ve been shot in the ass?” Savage asks, and an argument breaks out among the brothers.
Before I can wade in, my phone goes off. Checking the screen, Dom Landry’s number flashes. I hesitate, unsure if I want to know. Looking up I’m met with eyes on me. I swipe the screen and bring the phone to my ear.
“Marx? She’s waking -”
I don’t even wait to hear the rest. I yell to the room that I’ll be back, I need to get me and Bee to the hospital. I need to be there to look into her dark eyes when she opens them. I need her to see her little girl and to know that I’m all in. Whatever it takes.
Lovely
Everything feels heavy. Everything. I’ve been trying to move my fingers and toes and I’m not sure if it’s working.
There are voices around me but they don’t sound like the one that has been keeping me company.
Marx. I’m not sure if I dreamed it or if it was really him, but why would he be here? With me?
In my mind I’m stuck in a weird loop of watching the school van leave the compound and then seeing the SUVs with the dark windows speed toward us.
The window lowering and the muzzle of a gun pointing directly at Marx.
I can’t for the life of me remember what he was saying, but it didn’t matter.
He needed to move. I used all my strength to push him out of the way and then…
nothing. I don’t know if he was hit. I don’t know if anyone was hurt.
I don’t know anything. I want to open my eyes, to move my lips, to ask questions, to find out what happened, but I can’t.
My eyelids are stuck closed, my lips feel like they’ve been glued shut.