Chapter Seventeen
Mimic
Entering the room, my eyes sought hers. Her eyes were easy to read; it was how I’d known she was lying that first time. I didn’t look at the room. I didn’t look at the babies. I needed to look into her eyes and know she was okay.
The moment she saw me, a smile spread across her face. My eyes closed with the relief that she really was okay. She’d survived.
“No more babies,” I blurted out.
Her eyes went wide before she laughed. “Were you worried?”
“Of course I was fucking worried.”
She held her hand out to me, and it took Rose giving me a push before I could move closer and take her hand in mine. Feeling her fingers wrap around my hand did nothing to ease the anxiety I felt.
“You’re worse than Jack, you know that? I promise I’m fine. Everything went exactly how it was supposed to. And now your baby sisters are here.”
Hearing the words from her mouth, knowing she was telling me the truth, eased the lump in my throat.
“Would you like to hold her?” Jack said behind me. I turned and looked at the bundle in his arms. My hesitation made him frown. “Sit down, Mimic,” he ordered. And before I could object, he placed the baby in my arms.
I’d never held a baby before. I hadn’t held Beck’s baby, or Ellie’s. I wanted Sam’s babies to be my first. My baby sisters. “Who is this?” I asked, my eyes locked onto her little face.
“That’s Josephine Vivian.”
My head snapped up, and I scowled at Sam. “No.” I shook my head.
“Mimic, honey.”
“No, Sam. Not Vivian. Anything else but that.”
Her mouth turned down, and I immediately hated myself for making her sad. I rarely called her Sam anymore. It was always Momma. But this baby didn’t deserve to be saddled with the name of a woman I wasn’t sure deserved it.
“Okay,” she agreed softly. “We’ll give her my grandmother’s name. Josephine Diana.”
I nodded. Josephine Diana Williams. It was a good name.
“And this one?” Rose asked. I hadn’t even realized she was holding the other baby. When I looked at her, she was just as consumed as I was.
“That is Rosebud Delilah. Delilah was Jack’s mother’s name.”
“Didn’t she give you away? Why would you want to name your baby after a woman who didn’t want you?” I asked.
“She saved my life, Mimic. She gave me away to spare me the life she and my brother were living.”
“Thorne!” Rose whisper-yelled, not wanting to startle the babies. “I think it’s beautiful. And I am honored to share a name with her and your mother, Jack.”
Rose glared at me before focusing back on the baby. She didn’t understand what I was going through. What I had gone through. She never would. She still had the luxury of believing our mother was brave and honorable.
I didn’t know what to believe, except that this tiny little human in my arms was innocent. She needed a strong name. One that wasn’t tainted. One that wouldn’t make me cringe every time I looked at her.
“What do you think, Charlie?” Sam asked.
“When will they wake up so I can play with them?”
They all laughed, and even I grinned. Charlie had been impatiently waiting for her sisters to be born. She’d thought they would be like Tabitha and Chrissy.
“Not for a while, Cupcake. They’re too little to play.”
“Can we give them back and get bigger ones?”
“Afraid not.” Sam shook her head but smiled at her daughter’s sass. “But don’t worry, they’ll grow quicker than you think.”
Cash stuck his head in the door and growled. “Baby, you’re giving me ideas, holding that baby.”
Rose smiled back at him. “I’m getting ideas holding her.”
Cash walked over and kissed Rose on the top of her head. “The natives are getting restless. They all want to see the babies.”
“Cash is right. If we don’t let them in soon, they’ll riot.” Jack laughed.
“I need to get back to the clubhouse, anyway.” I looked at Sam helplessly. I didn’t dare stand with the baby in my arms.
“I’ll take her,” Cash offered. He plucked the baby from me as if he’d done it a hundred times, and I envied his confidence.
I leaned over and kissed Sam on the temple. “Good job, Momma.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. My own smile dropped, and I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m worried about you.”
“Me? Why?”
I looked over my shoulder, but Cash and Rose were whispering to each other in the corner, not paying attention to Sam and me. Jack had taken Charlie out to the waiting room to start bringing the others in to visit.
“I want you to talk to Haizley.”
“I don’t need to talk to Haizley.”
“Mimic, you do. Either that, or Torment. Rose does video calls with him now that he’s gone.”
“No, I’m fine. I just need to check on Indie. How long will you be here?”
“They’ll let me go home the day after tomorrow,” she answered with a sigh, knowing I’d changed the subject because I didn’t want to talk about therapy. My secrets were mine. I wasn’t sharing them with anyone else. Not yet.
“I’ll come see you again in the morning.”
“Okay, I love you.”
“I love you too.” I walked out the door, leaving my sister there. The words I repeated back to Sam, while absolutely true, were more of a robotic response.
The first time Sam said she loved me, I froze. I didn’t know how to react. She didn’t get upset when I didn’t say it back. She’d said it before she went up to her room at the clubhouse to put Charlie to bed.
Sam never acknowledged that I didn’t say it back.
She’d just made it a habit every time she left me to tell me she loved me.
Eventually, I said it back. What I loved about Sam was that she went out of her way to make sure I didn’t feel uncomfortable.
The first time I said it back, she smiled and left.
No big production about what I’d said or why. She simply accepted it and moved on.
She understood that feelings didn’t come easily for me.
I wished I could blame the Stones for that, but I’d always had trouble with feelings.
Not with having them but with processing them.
My anger—that one was easy. I lashed out.
Even before my mother disappeared, I’d let my anger overtake me often, lashing out at her or Rose when I got mad.
My mother always knew just how to soothe it back.
How to speak to me in a way that cooled the rage inside of me.
When she was gone, there was no one to pull me back.
Rose tried, but we were two kids, alone on the streets of Las Vegas.
No wonder she’d thought I’d left because I didn’t want her around.
I was always angry.
Not much had changed, except that I was better at controlling it. George had taught me that. He’d let Dakota beat me with his fists and his words. Then he would lecture me on the ways a man won in a fight. Whether it was words or fists, a calm head was needed to overcome and defeat your enemy.
A calm head did not exist when I walked into the clubhouse and found Indie sitting at the bar in nothing but a pair of compression shorts and a sports bra, while Johnny leaned over the bar whispering to her as she smiled at him.
That was my fucking woman, and those were my fucking smiles. I wasn’t proud of myself—fuck, who was I kidding? I was damn proud when I marched over and threw my fist into his face, knocking him into the shelves behind the bar. Bottles of alcohol fell to the floor, smashing into pieces.
“What the fuck did I tell you?!”
“MIMIC!” Indie jumped down and ran around the bar to Johnny. “Are you okay, Johnny?” Indie glared at me from the floor, where she crouched next to the prospect. All I wanted to do in that moment was rip the fucking cut from his back and toss his ass outside. Unfortunately, I didn’t have cause.
But I did have cause to kick his ass.
“What the fuck did I tell you, Prospect?”
He didn’t answer. He got to his feet and stared at me. Without a word, he moved away from Indie, walking to the storage closet to grab a mop and broom. He started cleaning up the mess while Indie stood there staring at me.
“Put some fucking clothes on.”
“Fuck you, Mimic.”
I stomped around the bar and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind me.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I didn’t answer. I was too fucking angry to explain anything. And I knew that whatever else came out of my mouth would make things worse. When she pulled against my hand, I stopped and turned. Indie was seething, and my cock was a fucking pipe in my jeans.
She was so damn gorgeous with a look of murder in her eyes, and I knew then I had been fucked up beyond repair. I shouldn’t be getting hard because she was pissed at me. But I couldn’t control it.
I bent down and put my shoulder into her waist and lifted her off the floor. She pounded on my back as I carried her over my shoulder, demanding I put her down, and my dick only got harder.
I was damaged. Deranged from years of watching Dakota take what he wanted from women whether they were willing or not.
I wanted Indie. I wanted to tie her to my bed and fuck her while she screamed.
I didn’t stop to think about what she might scream—my name, the word no, stop.
I didn’t care as long as she screamed for me and only me.
I got to my room and unlocked the door. As soon as we were on the inside, I pushed it closed and dropped her to her feet, before I backed her up against the door.
Her eyes were saucers as she stared at me, waiting for me to move.
My breaths came fast and heavy, my heart raced faster as I saw the look of fear on her face transform the moment I pushed her against the wall and collared her throat.
“You. Are. Mine.”
Before she could respond, I slammed my mouth against hers. I didn’t know what I was doing. My first kiss, and it was conceived in anger and a rage so possessive I’d lost control.
I moved my lips the way I’d seen Dakota do it. My tongue slid along her bottom lip, and I bit down. Her mouth opened with a gasp, and I invaded her quickly and without remorse. I didn’t ask for her consent; I wouldn’t give her a chance to deny me taking what I wanted.
Her hands fisted my shirt at my waist as she tugged it from my jeans, before sliding her hands over my chest. Her fingers twisted my nipples, and I grunted, pushing my pelvis against her.
My fingers squeezed her throat, and she moaned. The sounds she made spurred me on. With my other hand pressed flat against the door, there was nowhere for her to go. She was mine. Held captive with my lips and my cock against her belly.
Her hands went to my belt. Her fingers deftly pulled the belt open, followed by my jeans. Then, her hand disappeared, and she wrapped it around my hard length, causing me to hiss. No one had ever held me. The only hand to wrap around my cock was my own.
Hers was smaller, barely big enough to reach all the way around, but she squeezed and pumped my dick the way I had for years.
The feeling was so different. So much more.
My lips moved to her chin, then her ear as I bit down on her earlobe, and she cried out.
I wanted her pain. I was so overcome with need that all I’d thought about was myself.
My hand left her throat and moved to her shoulder as I whispered, “You wanted to suck my dick? Well, now you will.” I shoved her to her knees, yanking her hand away as I pulled out my cock and filled her mouth.