Chapter 9
Sloane
“Text your Pops and let him know you won’t be home tonight,” Vector says, his voice sounding strained. I turn to see him stretching his back before he stands up. “I could use some TLC and some loving tonight.”
“Can’t. I have an early start tomorrow,” I tell him, catching his frown as I pull the blanket up to roll it back up.
“Don’t you get time off?”
“Of course, but I prefer to use that for emergencies or vacation,” I sass back, holding firm. I have no doubt that if I start taking days off to get laid, I’ll be out of a job soon enough.
“Fair enough. I’m heading down to the Golden Hawk Casino later this week, just a few nights, but why don’t you take Friday off and come with me?”
“Where is that?” I ask, never having heard of it before and a little surprised that he’s randomly heading to a casino for a few days.
“It’s down in Cherokee, North Carolina. Roman and I are going to meet up with some buddies from a couple of other MCs,” he explains.
“Are any of them bringing a girlfr- um, a friend?” I ask, bungling the question yet not wanting to intrude on a guy-trip. I stay focused on repacking his saddlebags even as I feel him come up behind me.
“I don’t give a fuck if they are or not, I want you with me.” His deep voice in my ear is as comforting as the firmness of his embrace. “The men I know are single, but I’m with you now, so I want you by my side.”
“So, we’re together, together?” I ask, wanting clarification on how he sees us. Turning in his arms, I look up at his face trying to get a read on his feelings.
“In case you weren’t paying attention, a few minutes back I gave you a chance to walk away, Sloane,” Vector states, cupping my face in his hands. “You’re mine now.”
“Stay with me tonight?” I ask him, feeling unaccountably shy as I focus my eyes on where his chest hair peeks out of his shirt.
“I thought you had to get to work early?”
“I mean stay with me at Pops’ house,” I explain and smile when he kisses my forehead. “My clothes and stuff are there.”
“And you’ll take Friday off?” he confirms.
“I’ll take Friday off.”
“And next time your truck needs something, my brothers will handle it. No more running off to a random mechanic,” he huffs, and while I like that he wants to take care of me—and my truck—there’s no way I’m going to let him have his way all the time.
Riding home is more exhilarating than the ride out to his secret spot. I’ve been conflicted about moving forward with him, but his patience and understanding showed me that he’s worth it. Not that I’m not completely curious about the woman he used to bring out there when he was younger, and what happened to her.
*
“Hey Pops!” I call out when I enter the kitchen. “We’ve got company.”
The house is strangely quiet, and I cut back to the far side of the kitchen, sticking my head out the door that leads to the garage.
“Everything alright?” Vector asks, placing the bag with our uneaten dinner on the counter.
“He isn’t home,” I say more to myself than in answer to his question.
Reaching into my pocket, I start to call Pops when Vector leans over to disconnect the call and tosses my phone on the counter.
“He’s a grown ass man and we’re home early,” he says, holding up his hands when I glare at him. “You are not his mommy. Give him an hour, then reach out. Do you want to eat first, or show me around?”
Leaning across the counter to him, I try to look as mischievous as possible. “You can come up to my room, but Mom says we have to keep the door open.”
“Wanna tell me about the punks you let hang out in your room?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowns at me.
“Sure, right after you tell me about that harem of yours,” I reply, raising my eyebrow before turning to head upstairs.
“Babe,” he starts, the warning in his tone is loud and clear, but I just keep on walking toward the stairs.
My grandfather’s room is on this level, allowing me to have the upper floor to myself. As much as I love that man, it’s nice to have a place to unwind by myself sometimes. By the time I’ve reached the top step, Vector has paused at the bottom to tug off his boots.
And I have to admit that simple act really pleases me. Growing up where I did, we always left our outside shoes near the door, so I’m happy I don’t have to train that into him. Now, it’s just a matter of acting just annoyed enough about the club girls to get him to go down on me tonight—because that licking he gave me the other night was the stuff of legends.
Entering my room, I hurry to toss the clothing I left on the rocking chair into my closet, only having another second to glance around before I hear the top step creak. When it creaks again, I pop my head out of the door and tilt my head in question.
“Handy that,” Vector says with a grin as he puts his weight on it a third time. “Only step that made a sound the whole way up.”
“Dad said Pops did that on purpose, to bust him when he’d try to sneak out.” I confirm his suspicions.
“A lot of care has been put into this home,” he replies, walking toward me. “There must be a good story or two about why he never fixed it after his son moved away.”
When Vector stops in my doorway, his hands braced on either side of the frame, the look he gives me causes my heart to bounce up to my throat and I take a deep breath.
Is it possible he was this good looking the first time I met him?
Why do I find him more attractive every time we’re together?
“You can come in,” I hesitantly say, unsure of the frown that has settled up near his eyebrows.
“Babe, no giving me shit about the club girls. There’s always gonna be some and I wouldn’t be chasing your ass if you weren’t all I want. I said we’re together, and that means I ain’t going to fuck around on you.”
“Now I really want you to come in,” I tell him, reaching up to tug on his cut.
Just as he wraps an arm around my waist, we hear the door close downstairs, and my Pops is calling out a greeting.
The look on Vector’s face causes me to giggle, which deepens with his frustrated growl.
Vector
Later that night, as I’m holding Sloane’s sated body against mine, memories flood through my mind and I steal myself against the regret of old mistakes. Leaning down, I kiss her forehead as a silent promise that there won’t be a repeat of the past.
Once upon a time, Grace was everything to me and our future was so clear. Yeah, we’d get into arguments here and there over little things that seemed big to kids who were barely in their twenties.
Me re-enlisting in the military was a huge point of contention between us, but there was always some part of me that felt like I needed to keep her separate from the Northern Grizzlies. Grace was just too good, and a little na?ve about the world. I always felt that pulling her into my father’s lifestyle would taint her.
Besides them, the military was the only way I could figure out how to support a wife and the family we would daydream about during hot summer days—and nights—down by the river.
As soon as I got home from that tour, I was going to formally propose. The problem was, I simply wasn’t the same person after I was wounded, and I didn’t know how to pretend to be.
Laying in that hospital in Germany all of those months, I convinced myself that everyone back home was better off without me. Their lives would go on, and I’d make my own way. Even once I got back to the States, I remained no contact with everyone.
I stayed within an easy distance of the VA hospital in Maryland, still needing skin grafts and continuing care. Eventually, I started working with some of my fellow soldiers, those who were becoming more involved with the pain pills they had been prescribed, than with the world around them.
If not for my wonderfully pesky little sister, I don’t know where I’d even be now.
From infancy, Bridget showed an aptitude beyond her years, as she was the youngest kid in her eighth-grade class, she had to kick and scream until our dad and her mom allowed her to go on the overnight class trip to D.C.
Something they promptly regretted when they got word that she was missing. It turns out she had nosed around our dad’s office and found out that I was in Bethesda.
For an adult, it was an easy enough train ride from where the group would be staying. But for a pre-teen girl? It turned into an Amber Alert.
I shake my head at the memory of one of the security guards racing up to me that day. Bridget had been busted walking around the medical campus, slightly dazed as she realized the scope of it, compared to the small hospital in our hometown.
My shock turned to fear, when the guard told me my baby sister was there alone and how they matched her up to the regional alert from earlier in the day.
Ten minutes later, when Bridget was in my arms, sobbing about how much she missed me and wanted me to come home, was the first time it ever occurred to me how much she looked up to me.
Besides having a different mom and our age difference, I’d always made time for her. Until the day I crawled into my own shell and pushed the world away.
Dad and Nadine were there to retrieve Bridget a couple of hours later. Three days after that, I caught a ride home.
And other than Nadine cooking my favorite dinner that night, no one said a word about either my absence or my return. My lifelong friends acted like I had only been gone a matter of days, and no one ever mentioned Grace.
Life went on, almost uninterrupted.
Dad died.
Bridget left for college.
Nadine moved away.
Bridget returned a few years later, with big plans to launder money for the MC.
And me? I just sat in my dad’s chair and pretended I was happy.
But I wasn’t. I wasn’t anything really, until this woman showed up with orders to dig up our property and made my blood start to flow again.
Just then, a comment Oak made weeks ago pops into my thoughts. The delay I set in motion worked better than I expected, but the dig starts next week, and I’ve been lax about getting reports from Oak and Crasher and their progress with that radar machine.
“Babe?” I whisper, gently kissing Sloane on her forehead as I try to slide out from under her. Smiling at her grumble, I tuck the blanket all around her but wait for her eyes to open. “Hey, I’ve got to go handle something. Have your Pops drive you to work, and I’ll check in with the mechanic then call you later, alright?”
“Mmmhmm, top step,” she murmurs, reminding me about the odd piece of faulty carpentry her grandfather never bothered to fix.
Heading downstairs, there’s only one soft light on in the kitchen as I make sure the bottom lock is secured when I head out to my bike.
Riding up to the clubhouse, I start to wonder what Sloane will want to do – stay with her grandfather or move over here. There’s plenty of land, so I have zero issue with building her a house on the property.
“Have you heard from Bridget?” I ask Swann after parking my bike near the entrance. He grounds his cigar against the brick wall at his back before answering me.
“She texted when she was getting on the connecting flight and said she’d call you in the morning,” he tells me. “You good with Sloane?”
“I’m making her mine,” I let him know, pleased when he gives me a nod of approval.
“Good. Evon’s been asking after her and I didn’t know what to say.”
“Is Oak still up? We need to talk, and I could use your help on this,” I tell him.
Swann opens the door and gestures across the room, where Oak has a topless woman resting on each of his legs. The moment he sees my face, he snaps into action, gently standing them up before coming to join us.
I tilt my head in the direction of my office, knowing that they’ll follow me.
“What’s happening with the radar contraption?” I ask as we’re sitting down.
“The GPR, ground penetrating …” Oak starts before he sees the I don’t give a shit look on my face. “Well, it’s a highly advanced piece of equipment, so we had a bit of a learning curve, but I think we have it figured out now.”
Swann snorts in amusement, and once I see the thunderous look on Oak’s face, I know I’m missing a good story.
“Anything you want to add?” I ask Swann.
“Well, the model we borrowed, it retails close to six figures, right? Because of the depth we needed, since it had to penetrate below the gas lines, so it’s fairly high tech,” he drawls out, shifting his eyes sideways to Oak. “Crasher and Oak were working on it and trying to figure out the system and the monitor …”
“Okay! Evon figured it out! Enough already!” Oak admits, balling up his fists in frustration.
My eyes flick between their faces, and I finally realize that the pride on Swann’s face is perfectly countered by the embarrassment on Oak’s.
My hand to God, I try to keep a straight face—then I throw my head back, laughing louder than I have in a long time.
“You’re telling me that a four-year-old outwitted Crasher?”
“Yeah, brother, I’m giving her an extra fifteen minutes of screen time a day now,” Swann tells me, twisting the knife in deeper.
“That’s wise to keep it restricted,” I respond, sagely nodding my head, yet unable to keep from smirking at Oak. “I wouldn’t want to have to put her on the payroll before she turns five.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Oak laughs derisively as he throws his hands up in surrender. “So, we’re going to keep it patched members only while we scan the property. We’ll get it done by Saturday and have a party that night just to keep up appearances.”
“Are you heading out on Friday?” Swann asks me.
“Naw, I’m going to bring Sloane, so I thought we’d leave after she gets off work on Thursday,” I tell them my revised plans.
“Bummed I’m missing it but tell Cowboy I wanna bring Evon down there next summer,” Swann says, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms. “She’ll love the boats and be old enough to go horseback riding.”
Tyrant’s words from the other night ring in my ears and I’m glad that I put him on this, cause I know it’s more up his alley than babysitting the guys working on Bridget’s house. And that reminds me.
“Oak, what’s your take on Paul?” I ask when he’s halfway out of his seat.
“He’s got stories and skill,” he slowly answers me, but I can tell there’s something he’s not saying, so I tilt my head in question, getting him to continue. “Look, this isn’t a guy who couldn’t live alone. I’m sure it’s tough somedays, but he’s pretty fit for his age.”
“If you’re thinking about moving in with them, I want your room,” Oak cuts in.
“Dream on,” I bark out before turning back to Swann. “If I have another house built, you think he’s able to handle the detail work?”
“I think it’d be great for him. More than anything, I think he’s bored,” Swann immediately replies. “Then again, I’m not a doctor nor do I play one on TV.”
“Thanks for the clarification on that. You two bozos can take off, let me know if any issues arise.”
Left alone, I eye my couch. It’s just past dawn and I figure it’s my best chance for any sleep today. Unfortunately, I end up sleeping until the middle of the afternoon when I wake to a call from the gas company.
Thinking it might be Sloane, I answer it only to hear an automated voice droning on about my upcoming service appointment.
Grumbling, I sit up to start my stretches and start thinking about that salve in my room. It really did wonders the other day, which gives me another reason to kick myself. There’s no reason I couldn’t have tried it out in the nearly eighteen months since my newest doctor gave it to me.
Leaving my office to rustle up some food and get the salve, I’m greeted by the sight of long red hair and without even stopping to think what Sloane is doing here so early, I wrap my arms around her.
I don’t know if it was the instant warning bell that went off in my soul, or the panicked look on Roman’s face, but I instantly pulled away from the woman in front of me.
Any turns around, laughing, and tries to move back into my arms.
“See! I told Rouge that it had to have been her hair color that caught your attention. Don’t be grumpy, Vector,” she purrs out as I evade her attempt to wrap her arms around me. “Once you’re looking down at my head between your legs, you can tell yourself anything you need to.”
“Stop,” I raise my voice more than normal, before I give her one last chance. “Knock this shit off now or you’re out for good.”
“Baby, we both know she’s not meant for this life. Do you know how great we could make this chapter with some ideas I have?” she responds, fisting her hands at her sides.
Roman lets out a snort of laughter and as I shift my eyes between them, it’s the first time, I’m really seeing the fire in her eyes and wonder how Any kept her particular brand of crazy from me for so long.
“Bitch is out of her mind,” one of the men behind Roman mutter.
“Shut the fuck up,” Any shrieks turning as if trying to figure out who spoke, and that’s when we both see Sloane standing just inside the door.
The crowd between us quietly part, waiting to see how this will play out.
“How’s your day going, Andrew?” Sloane asks me, her face completely unreadable.
“Just fine until a couple of minutes ago,” I answer, leaning against the bar as I wait to see how Sloane is going to deal with this. “Kind of gone to shit now, though.”
“Why don’t you slither back to whatever swamp you crawled out of?” Any interjects as she walks toward my woman.
A couple of the guys look to me, wondering if they should stop her.
“Babe?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on my red head.
“I’m exhausted, and the project hit a delay, so I brought us lunch since I’m responsible for notifying our customers,” she says with a shrug. “I thought I’d break the news in person.”
“Bitch, I’m fucking talking to you.” Any stops short less than a foot from Sloane and I can feel the rage rolling off of her. How the fuck did that skank go sideways so fast?
Without a word, Sloane simply raises her hand, drawing her four fingers down to her thumb in a motion for the other woman to shut her trap, and if not for her age, I’d think Any was going to stroke out.
Any’s anger twists her face into something unrecognizable and that’s when I start forward, knowing that she won’t think twice about physically attacking the woman I planned on claiming this week.
“I got us tacos,” Sloane tells me, and while it appears that she’s looking at me, I can see that she’s paying close attention to Any as she steps to meet me.
Rightly so , I think the second that Any takes a swing at her.
Now, Sloane likes to talk about how she grew up in a roughneck family and how close she and her brothers are, but I’m not sure I would have believed this if someone tried telling me second hand.
As Any’s fist flies at her, Sloane simply leans to her right and with Any off-balance from the punch that didn’t land, my woman almost casually claps her on the back—like you do when you meet an old friend. And that’s all it takes to send her sprawling to the floor at my feet.
“Roman?”
“Yeah, Prez?”
“Follow Any to the gate and make sure everyone knows she’s banned,” I tell him, circling my arm around Sloane’s head and kissing her soundly.
The now-ex club whore pushes herself off the floor, pausing when she sees a drop of blood. I stop long enough to make sure it’s nothing serious, and indeed, it’s just a small cut from where her chin hit the ground; so, I tug Sloane in the direction of my room.
Now that she’s here, I’ll enlist her help with the salve.
“Tacos, huh?” I ask her, refusing to spend another second, at least in front of my brothers, on Any.
Sloane seems to understand my need for privacy, but as she’s focused on me she doesn’t notice the nods or looks of approval that she’s getting from the men present.
It was completely unnecessary to tell Roman to spread the word that Any’s no longer welcome at any Northern Grizzlies events, those present will have told everyone else by dinner time.
“Fuck,” I exhale the word once I close my door behind us. No matter how cool she played it out there, I keep my eyes trained on Sloane, watching to make sure she doesn’t look upset.
“How long has she hung around here?” she asks me, laying out the food on the counter to my left.
“I don’t know, maybe a year, year and a half?”
“Did she think you two had something?”
“I never gave her, or anyone else, a reason to think that,” I answer honestly, hoping to reassure her.
“Weird,” she murmurs more to herself than to me. After rewrapping a taco to eat it from the foil, she looks up at me, her eyes clear from worry. “I saw her with some guy in town, about a week ago, they seemed tight . Not to diss you in anyway, but why make a big play for you now?”
“Don’t fucking know, don’t fucking care,” I tell her with a shrug as I dismiss her question. “Babe, the tendons in my leg are twitching and I will do whatever you ask, if you could …”
“Oh! Of course,” Sloane says, balling up the now empty wrapper and hurrying to the bathroom to get the salve.
It’s the soft smile on her face afterwards that tells me how pleased she is that I asked her for help that lets me know we’re alright.