Chapter 21
PAGAN
Elbows to desk, I bit back a groan, holding my head in my hands while wishing I could go back twelve hours and say no to the half a bottle of whiskey I’d consumed because I was in a snit with my woman.
After I left her standing in the dark beneath the flicker of string lights and the shiver of a Wyoming spring breeze, I reached for the bottle and was still wasted five days later.
The only reason I’d even gone to the wedding was to see Ash.
I hated the thought of not being present at a big life event.
In the future, when we were spending time with her family, and they reminisced about the day Callum got married to Maeve, I didn’t wanna be the odd one out.
I wanted to feel part of something and to be included in her life.
Fuck knows what I expected. It wasn’t like, after everything that had happened, Ash would just fold for me again. It wasn’t like I had any chance of rocking up and sweet-talking my way back into her life.
The second I caught sight of her at the wedding, all the rage and bitterness I’d been running on for weeks melted away.
I talked to different women just to see if I could bear the thought of getting to know someone else, while also trying to get a reaction out of Ash.
I knew I was an asshole, and I knew I shouldn’t have expected much from our first real talk since the drama, but instead of taking it on the chin, I doubled down on the whole asshole act and made myself even more of a bastard.
The way she looked at me when she caught me with Saskia played on repeat in my head so many goddamned nights that I could still feel her heartbreak.
I should have explained then. I should have dragged her back into the clubhouse, tied her to a chair, and made her listen to me, but my stubborn pride stopped me.
Maybe I always knew she’d end things eventually, and it was my way of forcing the issue. I mean, she was amazing and smart and so fucking beautiful that sometimes when I looked at her, I couldn’t breathe. So it begged the question…
Why the hell would she ever wanna be with a fuckup like me?
All night, I’d proved her right to hate me because I’d gone back in and flirted with her goddamned cousin. I was so mad with her that I’d danced slow and sexy with the woman and angled us so Aislynn had the perfect view of everything.
It wasn’t even about making her jealous. The truth was, I had something inside me that was so broken, and so raw and jagged that I used it to cause pain to others.
Except all I ever did was hurt myself.
I’d gotten so drunk that Castle had to sneak me out, put me in his cage, and bring me home (alone). I woke up the next morning and was so pissed at myself for fucking up again that I reached for another bottle and continued my bender for the next five days.
I’d stopped drinking the night before, checked on my boys, and gone to bed. This morning, I’d woken up and drank coffee instead of whiskey before hitting the gym and pounding the punch bag until I puked up the alcohol I’d consumed the day before.
The taste of whiskey still burned the back of my throat, reminding me of every bad decision I’d made since I’d been in Wyoming. My brain felt like it had been put through a blender, and my actions spun around my mind until my head hurt.
Over the day, as the haze of alcohol disappeared, something hit me.
I was fucking up big time and ruining myself with my own actions and the black, twisted organ I called a heart, and I had to fix it. If I wanted a shot at mending things with Aislynn, I needed to pull my finger outta my ass and stop moping around.
I wouldn’t get a result without some action, so I had to start thinking with my head instead of my heart and especially my dick. I’d gotten everything I wanted through my own tenacity and brainpower, and if I wanted Aislynn back, I’d have to revert to my usual method of getting my own way.
Manipulation.
I looked up as my office door opened, and Rex and Rome strode through.
“You’re sober,” my oldest observed with a slight curl to his lip that was one hundred percent a trait he got from his old man.
I winced. “Yeah. I’m sober.”
Rome threw himself into the chair on the other side of my desk. “You hung over?”
“A bit,” I said warily. “Why?”
Rex perched his ass on the edge of my desk. “Wanna take us to the diner for dinner?”
“You don’t usually want me hangin’ out with you,” I commented. “Especially when there are babes to flirt with.”
“He’s off the market,” Rome blurted, nodding at Rex, whose cheeks reddened.
My eyes lifted to his. “You are?”
Rex glowered at his brother. “Why can’t you just be cool for once? Jesus, Rome.”
Roman ducked his head, obviously embarrassed.
“Who’s the girl?” I asked.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Isabelle.”
I thought back to the pretty brunette whose number he’d bagged in the diner the weekend they moved here and raised a hand to cover my smile.
Rex’s head reared back. “What’s so funny?”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my hands over my stomach. “Seems we’ve got a type, Son.”
Rex snorted and then asked, “Talking of types, when are we gonna meet Aislynn?”
“I dunno, Son. She dumped me.”
Roman barked a laugh. “Were you a dick?”
I shrugged. “Yeah, a bit.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh well. Plenty more fish in the sea.”
“Not for me, Son,” I admitted. “Ash is special.”
“Right,” he said knowingly. “When was the last time you had a girlfriend?”
“Your mom,” I stated, cocking my head to one side. “Why?”
“You’ve gotta lot to learn about women, Dad,” Roman explained. “The dating scene’s changed. Girls like it when their men are sensitive and shit, so basically, Dad, you’re screwed, seein’ as you’re about as sensitive as Hannibal Lecter.”
Rex folded his arms across his chest and studied me. “What are you gonna do to get her back?”
I shrugged. “I was thinkin’ I could knock her over the head with my club and drag her by the hair back to my cave.
Or in this case, my clubhouse. Then I’d lock her away and keep her hidden and make sure I was the only other human she came into contact with, until she developed Stockholm Syndrome and never wanted to leave my side again. ”
Rex studied me. “I guess it’s a plan, but how about you try just bein’ nice to her?”
My eyes rounded. “Me? Be nice? Me?”
His eyes flicked over my face. “True that.”
“Let us help,” Rex suggested.
My stare slid to him. “And how the fuck will you do that exactly?”
“We can be nice to her and make her like bein’ around us so much that she’ll put up with your moody ass just so she can hang with us.”
I thought about it, nodding slowly. To be fair, I’d heard worse plans, and if it failed, I could always go back to the Stockholm Syndrome idea.
I opened my mouth to start hatching a plan with my boys when my cell phone rang. I grabbed it from the desk and saw Wiki’s name flash up before answering and putting it to my ear.
“Yo!”
“Boss, somethin’ interestin’ just flashed up on the police radio. What cage does your woman’s mom drive?”
I thought back to the day I’d worked on Maureen’s car and replied, “White Toyota Highlander. Why?”
“Huntley Junior’s just stopped her car for speedin’ just outside Grand Junction. He’s called two arrests in, and your woman’s one of ’em.”
I got to my feet. “Send me the location. I’m on my way.”
Pocketing my phone, I turned to my boys and gestured toward the door. “Time to jet, boys.”
Roman pushed up to his feet and followed me to the door with Rex close on his heels. “Where are we goin’?”
I glanced at my boys over my shoulder, and a slow grin spread across my face. “We’re goin’ to rescue a damsel in distress.”
—————
My initial thoughts when I pulled up on the side road where Aislynn’s mom’s car was parked up was that the sooner I killed Huntley Junior, the better.
He’d cuffed Aislynn’s hands behind her back and left her leaning with her ass against her mom’s car, furiously yelling at him while Kennedy Stone was on the phone, no doubt to her husband, Kit Stone.
Huntley was fucked because if I didn’t get to him before Kit did, he’d die in a big ol’ pool of blood and a whole world of pain. Kit ‘Breaker’ Stone’s demons put mine to shame. Rumor was that he had a penchant for slitting throats and then blowing up the evidence.
I was in bomb disposal myself, so I understood the finesse of that—got off on it even, but Kit’s skillset put mine to shame if another rumor I’d heard back in the day was to be believed.
The word on the street was that Breaker was part of an international anti-terrorist force that went into situations deemed confidential by the government to cause death and mayhem.
When I was deployed at Camp Eggers, I heard a story about a mountain in Afghanistan that supposedly housed hundreds of insurgents being blown up from the inside out—an explosion he was at the center of.
Still, military men tended to gossip like goddamned fishwives, so I usually took it all with a grain of salt.
Even so, messing with the woman Breaker had loved since he was a kid was not smart.
Not only was Kennedy a fucking shark of a lawyer, but her husband was VP of an MC that was well respected and had recently taken down a sex trafficking ring.
So, when you added on the slitting throats thing, Huntley Junior was about to get fucked, and I didn’t mean with a computer mouse.
Aislynn heard me coming and already had her eyes fixed on me when I parked up and dismounted. I casually took off my helmet and glanced behind me as my boys pulled up in their 2010 black Hummer Alpha and parked behind my bike.
Her eyes widened as she watched my boys jump out of their truck and swagger over to me.
“Is there a problem?” I called over to Huntley, who by then was shifting on his feet nervously.
“No,” he replied. “Just a routine traffic stop. Nothing for you to get involved with.”
“When your traffic stop involves my woman, I’m involved,” I stated, my eyes going to Aislynn. “Were you speedin’?”