Chapter 15 A Storm Is Brewing
FIFTEEN
A STORM IS brEWING
Rage
I wake up to the sun streaming through the window.
There’s no warm body next to me. I abruptly sit up.
She’s not here. Worry takes hold of me, so I get up and hobble over to the door, still stiff from the fight.
I glance down the hallway, my chest tightening.
Has she left me? The thought sends my heart racing as I make my way to the spare room.
When I push open the door, the sight of her makes my body sag with relief. She’s here.
Rose turns in her seat and her eyes meet mine, but her expression falters. Her gaze lingers on my face, and I see the frown that follows.
“Good morning, my sexy cougar,” I say with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.
Her lips curve into a small smile. “Hello, God.”
I laugh and walk over, give her a kiss good morning, and check out what she’s doing. She’s holding a piece of gold with a design overlaid on top in one hand and a tool in the other. It looks like she’s delicately carving it out.
“Is it a ring?”
“The wedding ring is for Milly,” Rose answers proudly. “She wanted a specially designed ring. I’m working on it now.”
My woman has skills. She’s crazy talented. I’m happy Milly asked Rose and is getting her involved in the wedding. Oh shit. I haven’t even asked Rose yet. “Will you be my date to the wedding?”
Her face softens and she gives me a beautiful smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It throws me off. “Is everything all right?” I ask.
“Everything’s fine,” she reassures me. “And yes, I’ll be your date for the wedding.”
Something feels a little off, but with her ex, her best friend, the fights, and getting slapped in the face, it would be weird for her to be fine. She’s had a lot of stressful moments. Maybe she needs some time out. “Do you want to go out for lunch?”
Her eyes brighten and she nods. “Sounds great. I’ll get a start on this other ring this morning so I can mail it while we’re out.” She tilts her head and her smile fades. “Twitch was looking for you yesterday. It seemed important.”
I don’t like the sound of that. “Okay, I’ll let you be and go find him. Will you be ready to leave about one o’clock?”
“Sure, will be.”
I leave the room, close the door behind me, and go downstairs to the office. Twitch is sitting in front of the computer. “Hey, man, were you looking for me yesterday?” I ask.
He swivels on his chair, and the uneasy look on his face makes my stomach twist.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, gripped by paranoia.
“We started to get threats from the Russians.” He looks at the ground and squirms. “Phone calls demanding a rematch, saying it was rigged.”
I throw my hands up. “How was it possibly rigged? I won fair and square. No one intervened. It was just me and him. Sore loser is just pissed they lost money.”
He shrugs lazily. “They’ve been telling people that there’s going to be a rematch, so there’s a buzz about it. You should knock him out again and we can be done with it.”
Just the thought of seeing Rose upset makes me feel sick. “Did Reaper say much about it?” I ask, my voice tight.
“He doesn’t want the issue to escalate,” Twitch replies, his expression darkening. “Just with how they turned up at the clubhouse the last time . . . They’re unpredictable.”
My jaw tightens. “I want nothing to do with them. The guy’s girlfriend slapped Rose. They can all get fucked.” My tone is ice-cold.
Twitch winces. “Yeah, man, I get it. I think with the women and children here Reaper is being cautious. No decision has been made without you. It was just the general chat I heard while I was there.”
“I’ll go find him,” I reply, my voice clipped.
I leave the room and start my search for Reaper. He’s not in the common areas, the living room, or the kitchen. I head out back and spot him standing off to the side with Ava, both of them watching Hope play in the sandpit.
As I approach, a frown settles on his face. “So you’ve heard,” he says, cutting straight to the point.
Ava looks cautiously between us. “Should I leave you two?”
He gives her a warm smile. “Just give us ten minutes.”
“No problem,” she says and walks over to join Hope in the sandpit.
“Do you want me to fight the Russian again?” I ask. I’m torn between wanting to beat him again for starting shit and spreading rumors, and not upsetting Rose.
Reaper pauses, studying me closely. “Once you beat him, they can’t ask for a rematch again. It will be publicly embarrassing for them. The fight would take the heat off us.”
My jaw clenches, but I say nothing.
“They’ve got ties with bad people,” he continues. “I don’t want it to end with people getting hurt. We’ve got a lot to lose with women and children here. They know where we live, and they’ve seen Rose on numerous occasions now. I don’t know what they’re capable of.”
My body turns to stone, each muscle locking up. It feels like there’s a noose around my neck at the thought of Rose in danger.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to risk anybody getting hurt, but essentially”—he looks at me for several seconds—“it’s your call.”
A storm is brewing inside of me. Anxiety, anger, and restlessness clash.
I feel like I’m being pulled in different directions.
Will Rose be able to handle another fight, and so quickly?
She’s already gone through so much. But what if Reaper is right and they hurt one of us—that would fall directly on my shoulders. It’d be my fault.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly.
He nods. “That’s fine. We don’t need to know right away. You two are both recovering, so it wouldn’t be for at least one to two weeks. If you don’t want to, we’ll sort something else out.”
I leave and go upstairs to my room. I fall onto the bed and look at the ceiling. I hate that the Russians have pulled me back into this situation. Fair is fair. I won. No one else has ever claimed that our fights are rigged. They lost money; that’s their problem.
Rose
It takes me a few hours, but I finish the customer’s order—two dainty single rings that sit perfectly together. I place it in a small bag, then in a small shipping box, and stick the address label on top. I smile. It’s all ready to go.
I’m delighted to go out for lunch. I don’t know what to do about the future, but I figure I’ll wait until after the wedding to make a decision—while saving my money in case I have to move. In the meantime I’m going to enjoy my time here and not take a moment for granted.
I peek into the bedroom, but Rage isn’t there.
I grab the lingerie he bought me and a burgundy wrap dress and head to the shower.
After shaving and freshening up, I slip into the dress, straighten my hair, and apply makeup.
Not to brag, but I’m rocking this look. I can’t wait for Rage to see me in the dress.
I slide on black wedge sandals and grab my bag and tuck the package inside. It’s 12:45 p.m., so Rage should be close to ready. My heart pounds as I head downstairs, gripping the handrail to steady my two left feet in these shoes.
As I reach the bottom, I hear whistling. My cheeks burn when I spot Viper and Sophie at the bar.
I laugh nervously as Sophie walks over and twirls me around. “Look at you, you sexy thing!” she exclaims before planting kisses on both my cheeks.
“Thank you,” I reply softly, still embarrassed.
“Rage is one lucky man,” Viper adds with a grin.
“Aww, thank you.”
Ava pops her head out of the kitchen and rushes over, pulling me into a hug. “You’re beautiful,” she says warmly.
“Thank you,” I reply, overwhelmed by the compliments.
“Have you seen Rage?” I ask, glancing around.
“I think he’s in the computer room with Twitch,” Viper says.
I proceed to the computer room and pop my head inside. Rage is standing by the desk. They both turn when they hear me. Rage’s eyes widen as he drinks me in, and I see fire igniting in his eyes. I gulp.
He strides to me and pretends to bite my neck, making me laugh and sending goosebumps up my arms. “You look and smell so fucking good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “I’m trying to be good, but damnnn, all I want to do is pick you up and take you back to the bedroom.”
I grin and whisper back, “Lunch first.”
He gives me a naughty grin, wraps his arms around me, and squeezes my ass, making me laugh. “Let’s go, my sexy cougar,” he says, taking my hand as we go to the truck.
“Wait, can I get a photo of us?” I ask, wanting to capture the moment.
“Sure,” he responds. I take a picture with my phone. When I check the photo, I’m looking at the camera, smiling, but he’s looking at me, grinning, and the adoring look he’s giving me warms my heart. It’s a reminder that he does care about me.
As we climb into the truck, my phone beeps. I check it and see another order placed on my Etsy store.
“What was that?” Rage asks, starting the truck.
“Oh,” I say, smiling again, “I got another order through my store.”
He reaches over, places a hand on my thigh, and gives my leg a gentle pat. “I’m proud of you. Running your own business, having that drive and commitment—it’s next-level.”
The fact he recognizes my accomplishments means a lot. Happiness bubbles up inside of me. I put my hand over his. “Thank you.”
When we arrive at the post office, he parks outside. I reach for the door handle, but he stops me. “Wait for me.”
I watch him strut his sexy ass over. He’s wearing a fitted shirt that shows off his muscular frame, and the bad boy motorcycle club vest. Yummy! He opens the door for me, glancing around as he does.
“Aww, what a gentleman,” I coo.
“Only for you,” he reassures me, and I feel like a queen.
Inside the post office, he stands tall, his eyes scanning the room as we wait in line. I notice how he keeps checking and rechecking our surroundings. Maybe after everything that’s happened he’s just being cautious.
After posting the package, we stand by the truck.
“Where’d you like to go for lunch?” Rage asks. “Or would you rather grab something and take it down to the beach?”