Chapter 21
TIME TO UNCAGE THE BEAST
VIKING
The house is dark when Ghost pulls to a stop in the driveway, and I’m grateful he doesn’t comment. Twelve hours locked up with the guys, while Rosenfeld’s deputies took every chance to sneer in our direction, has me jonesing for a shower and a cold beer.
“Hey, before you go.” Ghost reaches into the back seat, a file folder in his big paw, when he shifts forward again. “A few things to get Trenton started with school until we have the final results from the lab.”
I nod, taking the falsified papers from him. “Thanks, man. I owe you. For this,” I lift the folder, “and today.”
“Nah, Pres. We’re square. There’s a reason why you let me miss half the shit with the club.”
“Right. See you later, man. Thanks for the ride.”
I unfold myself out of his tiny sedan, but before I can close the door on the last twenty-four hours, he clears his throat.
“Tell Trenton to lay low until we get everything sorted. The last thing we need is him getting into trouble at school and someone digging into things.”
“I’ll let him know.” I shove the door closed and double-tap the roof before heading for the front door.
Bear sprawls across the entryway carpet when I get inside. He doesn’t bother to move, clocking it’s me, with his half-opened eyes, as I skirt around his huge form.
“Hello?” I call through the house, making my way to the fridge, but only silence greets me.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” I whisper to the emptiness, cracking open my beer and downing the refreshing brew in two quick pulls.
Dragging my cell from my pocket, the damn thing remains black, dead as a fucking doornail. I chuck the bottle into the recycle bin and stomp down the hall toward the bedroom where it can charge.
Waiting for it to power back on, I hop in the shower, letting the stench of the cell wash from my skin. There’s not usually more than the odd drunk and disorderly stored there overnight, but they tend to leave behind the stink of failure and regurgitated alcohol.
The heat softens my strained muscles until I remember my house is empty once again and that my wife and kids are nowhere to be found. There’s no note left on the counter to ease my anxiety that Josie’s up and ran off.
She wouldn’t. Not after last time. Especially, not with Trenton in tow.
Maybe she left me a text instead. I cling to that hope, rinsing away the suds and stepping out into the fogged-up bathroom.
I wrap a black towel around my hips and all but run for my phone, which now glows with a little battery life.
One missed call, but it’s not from Josie. Si called twenty minutes ago. I hit the redial button and wait for him to pick up.
“Vik,” his annoyed answer sparks an idea in my head.
“Your wife home?” I ask.
“No,” he growls, probably feeling about the same as I do right now.
“She leave you a note?”
“No.”
Oh boy. This should be good.
“You know where they’re at?”
“They’re at Duke’s. Blaze’s got eyes on them. But I’m headed over there now. I suggest you do the same. He said they’re on their second round of doubles.”
“I’ll be there in ten.” I slam the phone down, leaving it on the charger, while I get dressed.
The heavy wood door slams shut behind me, and the noise of the place hits like a right hook. It’s overwhelming, enough to stun for a second. I scan the crowded bar looking for the jet black hair and curvy body I could outline within a millimeter with my eyes closed.
“Hey, boss, over here,” Blaze calls out, grabbing my attention.
His back’s against the wall, boot kicked up with his arms crossed against his chest. He casually watches the entire room like it’s a war zone overseas and not a dive bar in our small town.
Si’s backed into the corner, shadows hiding his large frame, eyes locked on one thing across the room. I follow his stare and find the girls seated in a rounded booth, laughing at the top of their lungs.
God, she’s beautiful. A carefree smile plasters across her face as she tips her head back with another full-body laugh at something Harlow says animatedly.
Her cheeks are tinged pink from the alcohol coursing through her system, if the collection of empty shot glasses is anything to go by.
I don’t know what their plan was for getting home, if they’re all keeping up with my wife, but hopefully, they had a better one than calling a random car for a ride.
“How long have they been here?” I ask Blaze, grabbing a beer from the bucket on the table in front of Si.
“About an hour. That’s their third round, it’s kind of impressive.” He lets out a shocked scoff.
His eyes darken, narrowing brows pinching with concern.
I swing my gaze back to the girls, and immediately clock what the reaction’s for.
I’d intended to let them enjoy their night.
Shit, if anyone needs one, it’s Josie. That’s right, until some young buck with his polo shirt sidles up to their table.
Chairs scrape against the hardwoods as Si and I both jump to our feet, ready to haul ass across the packed bar. The girls still, their laughter immediately drying up, as the kid with a fucking death wish leans in closer to Harlow.
“Oh, shit,” Silas whispers, knowing damn well his woman is seconds away from being hauled into the jail cell we just managed to vacate.
“Time to go, boys.”
Halfway through beating back the crowd to get across the dance floor, a whisp of dark hair catches my eye between a couple two-stepping.
When we make it to the other side, Harlow’s got the guy bent over the table, his arm pulled behind his back at a very awkward angle, and she’s tipping a half-full pitcher above his head.
His buddies are starting to take an interest now that she’s shown her hand.
Letting Si deal with her, I scan around the table, but all I find is a flushed Charlie egging Harlow on. Before we’re kicked out and I lose Josie completely, I turn on my heels and beeline for the only other place she could be right now.
The narrow hall is just wide enough for a single person, and the lack of lights, aside from the glow of the exit sign at the end, confirms that no one else is waiting back here.
Just my luck.
The woman’s bathroom has double stalls, but only one is closed. Flipping the lock on the door so no one interrupts, I wait for Josie to finish, leaning against the sink with my boot kicked out in front of me.
She stumbles out, hip-checking the door, eyes cast to the floor. She’s had more than enough liquor if she’s this far gone. Another round and she’d been face down on the table.
The skin over my knuckles stretches against my fist. I want to haul her over my knee and redden her ass for putting herself in this state.
It’s one thing at the club, where the last thing I have to worry about is her safety, but here around these fucking wanna be cowboys and rich pricks slumming it on our side of town… I can’t even finish the thought.
“Celebrating your newfound freedom already, wife?”
She startles, a little yelp escaping her lips as her eyes finally fly up from the floor.
“Vik?” Josie asks, confusion beating at her brow.
“Expecting someone else to follow you in here?” My palm itches as the idea takes shape in my mind.
“What? No. Of course not.”
I have to admit that the look of utter disgust and shock eases the anger cruising through my veins. Even plastered and pissed at me, the idea of being with another man seems to be the furthest thing from her mind.
“Good. Because the last thing I want to deal with right now is a dead body, I’d much rather handle my woman.”
She scoffs, reaching forward to turn off the water from washing her hands. I crowd behind her, grasping her waist in a tight hold. My fingers dig into the softness there, and my nose finds the top of her head, inhaling the smell of home.
My home. My girl. My everything.
My fingers trail slowly down her hips until they reach the hem of her denim skirt and curl around the stiff material. I don’t rip it up like I want to. Instead, I still and lift my gaze to the mirror in front of us. Glossy eyes bright from lust or alcohol, I can’t tell, meet mine.
She’s flushed, chest heaving quickly with every breath. Her tongue peaks out, swiping along her bottom lip, and I want to follow it with my own, dragging it down her neck, until I move low enough to swirl it around her hard, peaked nipples.
“Miss me, baby?”
Keeping hold of her skirt, I let a rough finger drag against her skin, just reaching the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. She tightens against me, squirming in my hold. Her ass brushes against my already hard cock, and I bite back the groan rumbling in my chest.
She shakes her head in defiance, but I see the moment she feels me nestled between her ass, and like a cat in heat, she forgets her answer and rubs against it without reserve.
This time, there’s no quieting the beast within me. He’s desperate to be fed, and I think it’s time to open his cage.