Chapter Seventeen
Spike
“Foster, what do you have for me?” I ask as I enter the war room. Riley and Asher have been safe within my walls for four weeks now, and we haven’t heard a damn thing from Chuck. It’s making me antsy.
“As of last night, Charles Landry has put in for retirement,” Foster answers, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he pulls up the official paperwork.
“He’s not old enough for retirement. The bastard is up to something,” Bones says, leaning forward, arms braced on the table. “We need to act before he does.”
I nod my agreement, but my gut is already telling me this is more than just a career change. Men like Chuck don’t walk away unless they’ve got a plan. A backup strategy to keep their hands clean while still pulling the strings.
“Anything else?”
Foster’s screen changes, pulling up recent bank transactions and flagged activity. “He’s moved large sums of money offshore in the last three days. Whatever he’s planning, he’s making sure he’s got an escape route.”
“He’s getting ready to disappear,” Crusher mutters, arms crossed over his chest. “Question is, does he run first or finish the job before he goes?”
My jaw clenches as I process the possibilities. I don’t like either damn option. If he runs, that means he’s a loose end. But if he stays? He’s biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“He’s not gone yet,” I say. “Which means we still have a window to hit first.”
“What are you thinking, Prez?” Bones asks.
I drag a hand through my hair, my pulse steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I want eyes on him twenty-four-seven. Track his calls, his movements, everyone he comes into contact with. If he so much as sneezes in the wrong direction, I want to know about it.”
Foster nods, already working on something.
“And Riley?” Bones asks, his voice lower now.
I exhale through my nose. “She’s been through enough. I’m not telling her shit until I have to.”
“You think she won’t figure it out?”
“She will,” I admit. “But I don’t want her living in fear until I know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Silence settles over the room, thick with unspoken thoughts. I know my men agree with me, but that doesn’t make it easier.
I push back from the table. “Keep me updated. I’ll be at my house.”
I make my way out of the clubhouse and back toward my main house, my boots heavy against the ground. Four weeks of having Riley under my roof, and it still doesn’t feel real. I see her every day. Hear her laughter when Asher gets her to drop her guard. Smell the damn vanilla and citrus scent she leaves behind.
And yet, she’s still holding back.
I step into the kitchen, catching sight of her standing by the sink, staring out the window.
She senses me before I say a word, turning slowly, her eyes guarded.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
Nothing and everything.
I cross the room, reaching for a glass of water to busy my hands. “Just checking in.”
She doesn’t believe me, but she doesn’t push. And that? That tells me she already knows something is coming.
I just hope I can stop it before it gets to our doorstep.
***Riley***
“He’s just protecting you,” Abby says a few hours later, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s ingrained in him to protect his family. He won’t tell you anything that could put you in danger.”
“I get that,” I admit, rubbing my hands over my arms. “But isn’t keeping me in the dark just as dangerous? The more I know, the better I can protect myself and Asher. How am I supposed to keep us safe if I don’t even know what we’re up against?”
Abby exhales, her expression filled with understanding. “And that’s exactly the problem,” she says. “In Spike’s mind, you don’t need to keep you and Asher safe because he’s doing it for you.”
Her words settle in my chest like a weight. “But what if something happens to him?” The thought alone steals my breath. Panic claws its way up my throat. “Oh gosh, Abby. He’s practically declaring war on Chuck and his entire department. Chuck already hates him, and the second he finds out Spike’s been keeping us hidden, he’s going to lose it. If Spike gets caught in the crossfire…”
My pulse spikes. The room tilts. Black spots cloud my vision, swallowing everything.
The last thing I hear is Abby’s voice calling my name before the darkness takes over.
Distant voices pull me from the darkness, muffled at first like I’m underwater. My head feels too heavy, my body sluggish as I struggle to piece together where I am.
“What the fuck happened?” The deep, familiar growl slices through the haze, sending a ripple of awareness through me. Spike. He sounds frantic, his voice sharp with barely contained panic.
“She just fainted, Bubby,” Abby’s voice is calmer, soothing. “I think it was a panic attack. She worked herself up too much.”
There’s a rustling sound, then the warmth of a large, calloused hand cups my cheek. “Riley, baby, open your eyes. Come on.” The demand in his voice is rough, edged with desperation.
I try. I really do. My eyelids feel like lead, but after a few blinks, I manage to crack them open. Everything is blurry, the overhead light too bright, but I can make out his face hovering over mine. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitching, his brows drawn low in worry.
“There she is,” Abby murmurs, relief lacing her tone. “Just breathe, Riley. You’re okay.”
I try to sit up, but Spike’s hands are on me instantly, keeping me in place. “No. Stay down.” His voice is gentler now, but there’s no mistaking the authority behind it.
My throat is dry when I speak. “What… happened?”
“You passed out, baby,” Spike answers before Abby can. “Scared the shit out of me.” His thumb sweeps across my cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite the frustration vibrating off him. “You wanna tell me what the hell had you so worked up?”
It all comes back in a rush. Our conversation, the realization of just how much danger he’s in. My chest tightens again, the panic threatening to rise, but Spike must see it because his hands move, one cradling the back of my head, the other gripping my fingers tightly.
“Hey,” he murmurs. “You’re safe. I need you to breathe, baby.”
I focus on him, his presence grounding me. “I was just… thinking about something happening to you,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Chuck hates you. If he finds out you’ve been hiding us…”
“Stop,” he orders, shaking his head. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
My eyes snap to his, frustration bubbling up. “How can I not? You’re acting like you’re untouchable, but you’re not, Spike. You’re going up against someone dangerous, and I can’t just sit here and pretend that doesn’t terrify me.”
His expression softens, and for a second, something flickers in his eyes. Something raw. “I know,” he says quietly. “And I hate that you’re scared. But I swear to you, I’ve got this. Chuck isn’t gonna touch you or Asher, and I sure as hell won’t let him take me out either.”
He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I need you to trust me, baby.”
I close my eyes, exhaling shakily. “I do trust you, Spike. That’s not the problem.”
He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze. “Then what is?”
I swallow hard. “The problem is… I don’t think I can survive losing you. Weeks ago, you said, I want you to be so in love with me that you’ll go insane without me by your side. Well, here I am, so deeply in love with you that the mere thought of you being taken from me is unbearable.”
For the first time, Spike doesn’t have a quick response. He just stares at me, something unreadable in his eyes, before finally pulling me into his arms, holding me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
And I let him. Because for now, in his arms, I can breathe again.
***Spike***
“Abby,” I say around the pulsing in my ears, my voice barely above a whisper. “Will you please take Asher for a few hours?”
Abby lifts a brow but doesn’t question it. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she nods. “Of course,” she laughs. “We’re going to hang out in the main building. Maybe I can talk Crusher into playing his guitar.”
I barely register her words as she gathers Asher and leaves. The door clicks shut behind them, leaving just me and Riley in the quiet room.
I hold Riley a little tighter, feeling the way her body trembles against mine. She hasn’t spoken since Abby left, and I don’t push her. Not yet. I just sit there on the floor, cradling her, stroking her hair, letting her feel me. Solid, unmovable, here.
Her fingers curl into my shirt, gripping tight, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go.
“Riley,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes shining with something raw. “ I’m okay,” she says, but I can hear the lie in it.
“No, you’re not,” I counter gently. “And that’s okay.”
Her breath shudders as she exhales, and then she does something that damn near breaks me. She buries her face in my chest and whispers, “I just need you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my arms tightening around her. “You have me, baby. Always.”
She tilts her face up, and the look in her eyes steals my breath. There’s vulnerability there, yes, but something else, too. Desperation. “Please.”
That one word wrecks me.
I don’t rush. I don’t push. I just press my lips to hers, soft and slow, letting her feel my every desire.
Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders, pulling me closer. I shift, lifting her effortlessly, and carry her toward the bedroom. She doesn’t protest, doesn’t pull away. She just holds on, like she needs this as much as I do.
When I lay her down, I don’t move right away. I brush my fingers over her cheek, tracing the curve of her jaw, memorizing her all over again.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice thick. “You just had a baby, Riley. I don’t want to hurt you.”
A soft smile tugs at her lips. “The doctor you brought in a few days ago said I was healed. I’m okay, Spike. I promise.”
I search her face, needing to be certain because the last thing I ever want is to push her too soon. But she reaches for me, her touch warm, steady.
“I need you,” she whispers, and I know she doesn’t just mean physically. She needs me in all the ways I need her.
When I follow her down, it’s not just about comfort or escape. It’s about something deeper. Something more.
It’s about reminding her she’s not alone.
It’s about showing her, with every touch, every kiss, that she’s mine. That I’ve got her.
That I always will.
***Riley***
Spike moves over me with a care that steals my breath, his hands tracing slow, reverent paths across my skin like he’s memorizing every inch of me.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion.
I reach up, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer until our lips meet again. The kiss is soft, unhurried, filled with all the things we don’t have words for. He kisses me like I’m something precious. Like I’m fragile and unbreakable all at once.
Somehow, he’s removed both of our clothes, but I’m too caught up in the moment to admire his body or worry about the condition of mine.
His weight settles over me, solid and safe, and for the first time in weeks… years?... I feel like I can breathe. Like I can let go of everything outside this room and just be here with him.
He enters me slowly, kissing away my tears of pleasure as they fall down my face. I arch into him, sighing at the way he fits against me, inside me. The way my body recognizes him, like it was made for him and him alone.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words spilling from my lips without hesitation.
His breath catches, his forehead pressing to mine as he murmurs, “Say it again.”
“I love you, Spike.”
A shudder runs through him, and then he’s kissing me again, deeper this time, his body molding to mine like he’s trying to fuse us together. Every touch, every lingering caress, speaks of something more than just desire. This is love in its purest form.
He moves with aching tenderness, his name a whisper on my lips as he guides me toward something I didn’t realize I needed so desperately. The world fades away, leaving just us. Heart to heart, breath to breath, souls entwined.
And when we finally fall, we fall together.
After, he doesn’t let me go. He falls to his side, keeping me wrapped in his arms, his hand tracing lazy circles on my back as our breathing evens out. I press my face against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart, feeling it beat for me.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice thick with emotion.
“Always,” I whisper back, knowing with absolute certainty that no matter what comes next, we’ll face it together.
“I love you, baby. So fucking much.”