CHAPTER 7
I see a water tower on the edge of town with ‘Sweetwater Valley’ painted on it in bold colors. The color isn’t faded which tells me, before I’ve even entered the town limits, the people who live here care about this place. It makes my chest feel tight because this is the kind of place that can easily feel like home. Has that happened with Heather?
Will we be able to get her to come back with us to New Orleans?
I feel jittery, partially because I’m driving an SUV instead of being on the back of my bike like Bedlam and Scope. Fucking straws. I should have just pulled seniority on Scope’s ass, but it wouldn’t have been fair.
Fuck fair.
We’re about to head into a war for our woman’s heart. Fair should have never come into play and yet here I am, trapped in a damn cage as I watch the scenery of this damn idyllic town roll on past my windows.
It’s beautiful in this area where fall has settled in. The changing leaves are beautiful, and the weather is crisper than it is in New Orleans. I bet the air is cleaner too.
Bedlam is riding out in front of me while Scope brings up the rear and I’m wondering if they’re having the same thoughts I am. When I look into the rearview mirror and see the scowl on Scope’s face, I have a feeling he is, at least.
When we get into the heart of Sweetwater Valley it looks like the town belongs on a fucking postcard declaring ‘Wish You Were Here’. Damn it.
I didn’t think Heather would run away to some perfect place. Don’t get me wrong, part of me is glad because I would be pissed if she was in some shithole town, for an entirely different reason. However, if the town was crap it would be easier to get her back home.
I noticed a large bar and restaurant called The Goose a little farther out from the center of town and I wonder if their food is any good because I am starving. The drive wasn’t more than eight hours, but we didn’t stop much considering the need to get to our woman has been riding us hard for three fucking months now.
On the main drag of the town there’s a hair salon, a bookstore and coffee shop, a bakery, a mechanic and then, when we’re close to the edge of the main drag, a fire station. I’m pretty sure I saw the realtor office our woman is working at not far from the grocery store. There is probably more to see, but I didn’t want to run Bedlam over and we were already getting looks from some of the people in town.
I wonder if it was because of the two big dudes on bikes or if there’s another reason. Not that it matters, we’re not here to start trouble. We’re just here for love. I wonder if that’ll buy us some goodwill with the people who live here.
Who doesn’t like a good romance? I know Heather would read them with a soft smile on her face when she didn’t think anyone was paying attention. What she didn’t realize is I was always paying attention to her.
There are some guys out there who would give their woman a bunch of shit for reading romance. Not me. My mom is a big reader and romance is one of her favorite genres. She would always get this dreamy look on her face when she would finish one while clutching the book to her chest like she could absorb all the goodness from the inside.
I found it funny because my dad adores her and was always doing sweet things for her. He would bring home flowers randomly and always cooked when he was home so she could get some rest. He would take her to bookstores and tell her to go crazy. He was always finding a way to touch her and kiss her.
Even though she was living her own romance, she still found so much joy in the love of others. Not that my mom couldn’t be a hard ass when she needed to be, but there was always a feeling of love and acceptance surrounding her. Growing up it was the norm, which means I didn’t really appreciate it or see how lucky I was.
There was a while there, in my teen years, when I found their affection and love a little gross. Then I saw it for what it was—something to envy.
I never figured I would find the same kind of love for myself. Then I walked into the DSMC clubhouse and saw Heather. I didn’t know she was an angel at first, I just knew she was mine. Finding out her role in the club didn’t turn me off, but it did make me wonder how we could work.
Bedlam saw the way I was looking at her and then the same look on Scope’s face when he came along. I remember watching Scope see Heather for the first time and leaning over to Bedlam and asking, “I didn’t look like that, did I?”
When I looked over at my friend, he was smirking at me. “Worse,” he confirmed, and I flipped him off.
I remember trying to find the need to be jealous. I couldn’t. But I knew if anyone other than us looked at her twice, whether they were in the club or not, I would rip their heads off.
It took us a little time to wrap our minds around the situation, but we got there eventually. Then we did our best to keep Heather close while also keeping our distance. We told ourselves it was for her sake, but now, when we’ve been without her for the last three months, I’m not so sure.
All I’m certain of is we have a lot to make up for.
Still, this is a nice place. The longer I’m here, the more I wonder if we’re just being selfish pricks again. What is the right thing for her? We thought we knew before and my gut is telling me our assumptions hurt our woman.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself without her in my life. Still, if she’s happy shouldn’t that be enough? Isn’t that what I should want? Even if I’m not there to experience her happiness with her?
When we pull off into a parking lot, I’m a fucking mess. I can see the strain on the faces of Bedlam and Scope as they slide into the vehicle with me. Bedlam is running his fingers through his hair as agitation rolls off him in waves.
“This is a nice town,” his voice is gruff like he’s having to work to force the words out of his mouth.
“It is,” I agree as I scrub a hand down my face.
I’m fucking exhausted. We couldn’t sleep once we had a plan to get our woman which means we left New Orleans really fucking early. Now that I’m here and she feels so close, I just want to go to her and curl my body around hers while promising to never let her go.
But I can’t.
“Maybe this is the right place for her,” I hate the words as they come from my mouth.
They feel wrong and I want to swallow them back down, but they’re out there now. Just because I hate the idea of not having our woman with us, doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.
“What the fuck?” Scope’s voice is full of fury, “How the fuck can you say that?”
I look back at him where he’s stretched out across the back seat as Bedlam waves his hand in a gesture meant to encompass the town we just drove through. “You saw this place. It’s nice and clean. Even though people looked at us, they were more curious than anything. No one was frowning. The sheriff or cops or whoever hasn’t shown up to run us out of town even though we clearly don’t belong here. It’s fucking nice.”
“You said nice twice,” Scope points out really fucking unhelpfully. He sighs and rests his head back on the top of the seat. “I get what you’re saying. But she belongs with us. We need to get her and then get her the fuck back home.”
It feels like I’m being torn in two because I understand where both men are coming from. Is there even a middle ground? I have no fucking idea. What I do know is that there’s one voice missing from the conversation, even though my heart sinks at the idea of her choosing to stay here instead of coming home.
“We already know we fucked up with Heather. We made decisions for her without including her. We decided we knew what was best for her and look at where it’s gotten us,” my voice sounds hollow because without her that’s exactly what my life is like.
Guilt churns in my stomach because we never took the time to look at the choices we were making through her eyes. We should have, but we thought we knew what was best. We never even gave her a chance to tell us how she feels or what she wants.
“We did it for her and we were thinking about her the entire time,” Bedlam defends.
“I’m not saying we weren’t,” I point out. “I’m not even saying I would do it differently, but we should have talked to her. Even if no one else knew that she belongs to us, we should have made sure she knew. Maybe then she wouldn’t have run.”
Silence descends in the car, and I rub my chest right over where my heart is beating, an ache growing with every thud. I miss her. I’ve never missed anyone like I’ve been missing her for the last three months.
“It doesn’t matter,” I break the silence, my eyes fucking burning. “We can’t change what has already happened.”
“No,” Bedlam sounds like a petulant child, “we can’t.”
Scope’s leg starts to bounce in the backseat, and I can feel his anxious energy like a wave through the enclosed space. I want to give him shit about it, but I’ve already stewed in my nerves and anxiety for the entire drive. I’m in no condition to tell him to tone it down.
“We need to go and see her,” Scope insists. “No matter what happens after, it’s the first step.”
I nod along with Bedlam. Scope is right. We can’t figure out a way forward without seeing our woman. I don’t know what will happen after and not knowing is eating me up inside.
We had such a clear plan before. Get our patches. Claim our woman. Build a life with her as our center.
It was so fucking clear.
Now, I’m not so sure, but I do know we all want that still. It’s why we’re here.
Without a word, Scope and Bedlam slide out of the cage and stride back to their bikes. It’s one of those moments where words aren’t necessary.
What would we even say? That everything is going to be okay? There’s no need for rainbow platitudes when we don’t know what is awaiting us when we see Heather again.
It takes only a few minutes to get to the real estate office, but there isn’t any parking right out front. We go half a block down to grab some spots and then we meet on the sidewalk. I wince because I don’t know if Heather heard the bikes and if it will be a big warning to her that we’re here. Will she run again?
It doesn’t matter because I look down the sidewalk toward where the office is, and my breath catches in my throat. It’s her. I swear she wasn’t on the sidewalk just seconds ago, but now she’s moving away from us and toward the office. Where the fuck did she come from?
Does it even matter?
“Jesus,” Scope grunts which tells me he sees her too.
My feet start to move before I even realize it. My strides are long, and I feel my brothers moving next to me, our eyes fixed on our woman and closing in fast.
When we’re close enough to touch her, I force myself to keep my arms at my sides. I don’t want to fucking scare her. It’s the last thing I want in this whole fucking world. Even though I’m yearning to wrap my arms around her and feel her body against mine again.
“Heather,” Bedlam’s voice breaks as he calls out to her.
She stumbles a little as she freezes and the three of us reach out to steady her, but she doesn’t need it. When she takes a step forward and then whirls around to face us, her hazel eyes are wide with shock. As my eyes scan our woman, I’m thrown for a fucking loop when I move down her torso to find she’s now sporting a very round, very pregnant belly.
Everything stops around us, the moment frozen in time, as shock, relief, fear, and a little bit of anger start to course through my blood.
It feels like everything comes together, making so much more sense, and I know, without a doubt, the real reason why she ran. The feeling of my heart being ripped out of my chest is almost too much to bear.