Chapter Thirteen
Riley
Spike’s in a meeting, but I don’t care. I know he’s talking about Chuck and Asher, and I want to be part of it.
So, pulling my big girl panties up, I march my way to the war room. Which I’ve only just learned is an empty room with a huge round table and a wall full of security screens.
“You can’t go in there right now, miss,” a man says as he steps in front of the door. “I’m afraid there’s a meeting going on.”
“I’m fully aware of that,” I respond, my voice still a bit raspy from Chuck’s attack. The bruises on the outside are nothing compared to how I feel on the inside. It hurts to speak, but I won’t back down now. I take another step forward.
Without a second thought, the man reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder to stop me. He doesn’t hurt me, doesn’t squeeze too tightly, but instinct takes over. I rear my fist back and slam it into his throat.
He staggers back, shocked, but I can tell it wasn’t enough to seriously hurt him. He just stumbles against the door, clearly surprised by my reaction.
“What the fuck is going on?” Spike shouts as he opens the door, causing Blue Eyes to fall back.
Blue Eyes points right at me, and I square my shoulders.
“Baby, what are you doing moving around?” he says, ignoring his man and stepping over him. “You shouldn’t be walking around on your own.”
“What the fuck, Prez?” the man sputters, pushing himself up. “This fucking woman hits me, and you’re acting like she’s your goddamn prize?”
“Damnit,” Max, at least, I think that’s Max, grumbles from behind me. “I’m gonna lose all my prospects at this rate.”
“She hit you?” Spike asks him. “Why?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” the man stammers, his face flushed with anger. “I just told her she couldn’t go in the room.”
“You touched her,” Maverick’s voice cuts through from somewhere behind me, calm but sharp.
“I did no such thing,” Blue Eyes protests.
“You calling me a liar, boy?” Maverick steps forward, his posture menacing, his voice low but full of authority. “Don’t forget that I’m not an actual patched member of this club. I don’t need a good reason to kill a fucking brother. Slitting your throat will give me great pleasure.”
“Sorry, Maverick,” Blue Eyes whimpers. “I wasn’t thinking. You’re right. I did touch her. But I didn’t hurt her.”
“You touched my woman?” Spike’s voice is a growl, filled with a dangerous edge that makes the air feel heavier.
“Your woman?” Blue Eyes asks, his face draining of color. “I didn’t know, Prez. I swear.”
“He hurt you?” Spike’s eyes roam over me, taking in every bruise, every mark, but I know he doesn’t see what he’s looking for. There’s so much damage on me, Chuck’s marks all over my body, that I know Spike wouldn’t even notice if Blue Eyes had added to them.
“No,” I admit, the words slipping out as I glance at the floor. “He just put his hand on my shoulder when I tried to get in, but I’m so freaking tired of people touching me. I’m tired of being hurt.” My voice cracks, and for a moment, I can’t hold it in anymore. “I don’t want anyone to touch me ever again.”
I hate how weak I sound, how broken, but I can’t take it anymore.
And despite everything I’ve just said, I lean into Spike’s chest, feeling his arms come around me like a shield.
“Nobody but you,” I whisper against his shirt, my voice barely audible. “Please, don’t let them touch me.”
I can’t explain why I’m saying this. I can’t explain why my skin crawls at the thought of anyone’s hands on me. I can’t explain why Spike feels like the only safe place, but I don’t care. I don’t need to. All I need is for him to promise me that I won’t have to endure the touch of anyone else ever again.
“You don’t ever have to worry about anyone touching you again. You’re safe here. You’re with me.” Spike says, his voice tight, as though he’s struggling to hold back his own emotions.
And I believe him. Maybe for the first time in a long while, I believe that I’ll finally be protected. I’ll be safe.
“Back to work,” Spike says, gently pulling me away from his chest and guiding me into the war room.
“Uhm, Spike?” I ask as I sit in the chair he directs me to.
“Yeah, baby?” he replies, his voice low but attentive.
Everyone else is back in their seats, their eyes fixed on me. I sigh, feeling the heat rise to my face. I really don’t want to ask this, but I have no choice.
“I need a pump,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.
“A pump?” he asks, kneeling in front of me, his brow furrowing in confusion.
I can feel the embarrassment creeping up my neck, but I gather the courage to meet his gaze. My eyes drop to my chest, where wet spots have already formed over my nipples.
His confusion deepens, and I sigh before explaining. “A breast pump. Without Asher nursing every four hours, my breasts are full. I was able to pump at the hospital, but I haven’t since then. If I don’t pump regularly, my milk supply will decrease. I could lose my ability to nurse him.”
Spike’s brow creases and the intensity in his expression makes me smile despite the awkwardness.
“Manual or electric?” a broad man, one I’ve never seen before, suddenly asks.
“Uh,” I hesitate, unsure if I should answer the stranger.
I glance back down at Spike, who’s still kneeling in front of me, but now his eyes are fixed firmly on my chest, a dazed look in his eyes as if he’s forgotten everything going on in the room.
“I’m not sure,” I admit to the stranger, feeling my cheeks burn hotter.
“No worries,” he smiles, looking down at the laptop in front of him. “Who has access to the club’s funds?”
“That would be me,” Skip answers, his tone sharp. “Why?”
“I have an order ready for her pump,” the man says, fingers tapping away at the keyboard. “It’ll be delivered in a few hours. Just need to make sure it’s an approved expense for the club.”
“Absolutely,” Tank says, sitting back in his chair. “Since our President’s not mentally here right now, I’ll override the voting process and approve it.”
“Agreed,” the rest of the room chimes in, their voices in unison.
“I’ll input the bank info,” Skip says, but the man just laughs.
“No need, Skip,” he replies with a smirk. “Already did. I even added some extra bags so you can freeze the milk, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Riley,” I smile, embarrassed, my face feeling like it’s on fire. “Thanks.”
“How did you get our bank info?” Skip asks, still looking suspicious.
“With a few strategically placed ones and zeros. Don’t worry, I made sure to use the main account,” the man chuckles. “I also have some news on the baby. I’ll update everyone whenever the club’s President gets back from his... vacation.”
With Spike still staring at my chest, I place my hands over the wet spots, trying to hide the evidence of my body’s betrayal. This milk is for my son, and my body is wasting it.
Finally, Spike seems to snap out of it. He shoots a glare at the rest of the group, his jaw clenched with irritation.
“If a single one of you fuckers looks at her tits again, I’ll stab you in the dick,” he growls, his voice hard and unmistakably serious.
The room falls into a stunned silence as his threat lingers, and I feel a strange mix of amusement and comfort that he’s so protective.
Standing, Spike reaches down, turns my chair slightly, and pushes me forward against the table.
Without another word, he removes his black vest, shoves my arms through the slits, and drapes it backward over my body, effectively covering my chest.
I watch as he steps back, his eyes scanning my body. Once he’s satisfied, he moves behind my chair, his large hands resting gently on my shoulders. His fingers press into the muscles there, a comforting weight that settles me even more.
“Better?” he asks.
I nod, a slight chuckle escaping me despite myself. “Yeah... much better.”
The rest of the room remains quiet, and I can feel the tension ebb away, both in the room and in my body. Spike’s got this way of making everything feel like it’ll be okay, even if the world’s falling apart.
“Now, what did you find out about Asher?” Spike demands, his voice low but firm, the weight of the question hanging heavy in the air.
“Oh, so you were listening?” Bones chuckles. “I just wonder what was on your mind that you couldn’t remember how to talk earlier?”
“Fuck you, Bones,” Spike mutters. “What do you have for me, Foster?”
The broad man, Foster, leans back in his chair.
“First, Asher’s proof of life is now correctly filed at the hospital,” he says. “It wasn’t anything nefarious. There was a system crash that very morning and everything was done with good old-fashioned pen and paper. They’re just now getting everything logged into the computers.”
“I remember that,” I sigh. “The nurses kept apologizing to me because they were having a hard time getting things done. They couldn’t access the things they needed with a keycard, either. Which included most medications. It was chaos.”
“I image it was,” Foster smiles. “Now, for the other good news. The custody agreement that Ms. Hayes signed,” he says, the smile widening. “It’s null and void now.”
“What?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat, my pulse quickening. “It wasn’t legal?”
“Oh, it was legal,” Foster says, holding up a hand to calm me. “That bastard made sure to file it with the court within an hour of leaving you at the hospital. But here’s the thing. It’s not legal anymore. It’ll take about twenty-four hours for the courts to sort through all the logistics, but you’ll have your son back by this time tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?” Spike asks, his fingers squeezing my shoulders a bit tighter.
“Without a single doubt,” Foster smirks. “By this time tomorrow, baby Asher will be inside these compound walls.”
“What do I need to do?” Spike asks. I’m thankful because my voice doesn’t seem to work. My throat locks up, and my vision blurs with tears.
“You just need to send someone to collect him,” Foster explains. “Give me the name, and I’ll make sure they have clearance to remove the baby from Chuck.”
“I’ll do it,” Spike says immediately.
“And by that, he means I’ll do it,” Maverick cuts in, his tone firm.
I want to fight them both. I want to stand up and say no, I’m his mother. I should be the one to bring him home . But the truth is, I know Spike won’t allow it. I can barely stand without shaking. The thought of facing Chuck again makes me want to curl into a ball and disappear.
“The fuck you will,” Spike growls. “That’s my son. I’m the one bringing him home.”
“And I’m not affiliated with the club,” Maverick reminds him. “You walk in there, and Chuck’s gonna know exactly where Riley and Asher are. Let me handle it, brother.”
The rest of their conversation fades into background noise as the tears finally spill down my face. The relief is too much. My body shakes under the weight of it, and before I can even process what’s happening, I feel myself being lifted into strong arms.
Spike.
He carries me like I weigh nothing, his grip solid and unyielding. I don’t fight it. I just bury my face against his chest and let it happen.
“If my son is inside this compound tomorrow like you said,” Spike says, his voice filled with quiet authority, “you’re fucking hired.”
“Want to be a member?” Max asks as I feel Spike’s chest vibrate with a chuckle.
“Not sure,” Foster replies. “Let me think about it.”
I sniffle. “My boobs hurt.”
Spike shifts me in his arms. “We’ll get you in a hot shower, baby.”
I hear some amused chuckles, but I don’t care. The moment the door closes behind us, muting the voices of the club, I feel the exhaustion set in deep.
“When we get our boy back,” Spike murmurs, carrying me through the building and back into his office, “I’ll tell you what I was dreaming about.”
I manage a small smile, adjusting in his hold until I’m sitting comfortably against his lap when he lowers himself onto the couch.
“Even though Chuck is a monster, I know he isn’t hurting Asher,” I admit. “Every time he looked at him, he seemed happy. I’m not afraid for Asher’s immediate safety. I just want my baby back. I want my son in my arms.”
“Soon, baby.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Spike exhales, tightening his hold on me. “Tomorrow, you and Asher are moving in with me.”
I huff a small laugh, shaking my head. “You’re making decisions for me now?”
“Damn right, I am,” he grunts. “I don’t want to hear shit about it being too soon. You’re mine. Asher’s mine. And you will be in my bed for the rest of your fucking life.”
“I don’t really want to be outside of the compound walls,” I admit.
“Our house is inside the compound, baby,” he tells me. “It’s less than a minute walk away.”
Despite everything, I giggle. “Alright,” I whisper, not really wanting to fight him anyway. I’ve felt safer with Spike since I’ve met him than I have in my entire life. Maybe I was always meant to end up here. I just had to take a detour to bring Asher into the world first.
“The reason I always fell asleep in your office,” I admit softly, “was because it was your space. I knew I could rest there when you weren’t around. I felt… safe.”
Spike strokes his fingers down my spine. “Then don’t fight me on this.”
“I won’t,” I say. “On one condition.”
I feel his smile against the top of my head. “What’s that?”
“What’s your real name?”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “Ethan Turner.”
I smile. “Nice to meet you, Ethan Turner.” I pause, then tilt my head. “Now, tell me. Why did you freeze in there earlier?”
Spike groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Because I was picturing your tits engorged with milk.”
My mouth drops open.
He smirks unapologetically. “I had this image of you sitting naked in our bed while I squeezed your nipples to relieve the pressure.”
“You daydreamed that you were milking me?” I laugh, even as warmth spreads through me. “Caveman.”
“I accept caveman status,” he chuckles, shifting so I’m tucked securely against him. “Now, get some sleep. I need to be well-rested. I’ve got revenge to plan.”
“We’re getting Asher back,” I remind him. “Why are you still plotting revenge?”
His entire body tenses. “Because that motherfucker beat my woman,” he growls. “I’m gonna make sure he fucking pays.”
“He’s gonna beg me for mercy,” Bones’ voice suddenly cuts in as he waltzes into the room, “while I peel his skin from his fucking bones.”
I shudder. Not because I’m scared of what he’s saying but because I’m not scared at all. And that terrifies me.
“Graphic,” I say.
“How do you think he got his name, baby?” Spike murmurs, running a hand down my back.
I glance over at Bones, watching as he leans casually against the wall. “Interesting choice of hobby,” I say. “Is it hard to peel someone?”
Bones smirks. “Not if you have the right tools.”
“Oh my,” I mutter.
“Anyway,” Bones continues like he wasn’t just discussing skinning someone, “your siblings are about five hours out, Spike. I’ll wake you when they’re an hour away.”
“You have siblings?” I ask as Bones disappears down the hall.
“A brother and sister,” Spike says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Samuel travels a lot for work, but my little sister, Abigail… she’s different.”
“Different, how?”
Spike sighs. “She’s been through some bad shit. Has a ton of triggers. One of them is vehicles. This trip is gonna wreck her.”
My heart aches. “We’ll help her,” I promise. “When Asher gets back, he’ll help her too. Babies are magical when it comes to a broken woman.”
Spike lets out a deep breath. “Thank you, baby. My little sister means the world to me. And knowing that my girl, my fucking universe, will be there for her? That means everything. And when we get our boy back, he’s gonna heal her heart.”
I swallow hard. “We’re getting Asher back,” I whisper, fresh tears falling. “Please, please, please let this work.”
Spike pulls me tighter against him, shifting until we’re lying down. His body surrounds mine as he moves me to lay between him and the back of the couch. His warmth presses against every inch of me, shielding me from everything else.
“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
And with a deep breath, I close my eyes and actually believe it.
He truly does have me.