Chapter 23
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
LINDY
Wes was right.
There was no reason to fight anymore, was there? I was so used to fighting. But here, now, me and Wes together like this, was the dream coming true at long, long last. And I could embrace it. Embrace him.
My hand went to the side of his face. “I don’t want to fight anymore.” I brought my lips to his and kissed him gently. He remained still. My lips brushed his, my tongue sought entry. Finally, he opened for me. Union.
On a growl, his body surged against mine and our kiss deepened. Raw and hungry. Tearing off my T-shirt, he brought me down on the mattress again, his weight settling on me, my legs twisted around his hips as my clit throbbed against his body. Kisses seared my throat, my chest.
This was the night. Finally.
Kissing, we shifted on the bed, and a sharp pain burst in my flesh. “Ouch!”
“What is it? You okay?” He shot up.
“Something jabbed my back…” I reached out, and my hand slapped over a book. “It’s the photo album.” My hand pressed down on the vinyl cover.
He let out a soft laugh and fell back on the bed. “Ah, right. I tossed it there before dinner.”
It was good to hear him laugh. I wiped my hair behind my ears. “Would you mind if we looked at the photos?”
Turning on his side, he rested his head on his hand. “Sure, let’s do it. I’ve been dying to check them out since my mom gave them to you.”
“Me too.” My shoulders eased.
He scooped up my T-shirt from the floor and held it out to me. “Thanks.” I grabbed it on a small grin.
“I’m going to turn on the lamp. Watch your eyes.”
“Okay.” Turning around, I put my shirt back on and stretched out. Dim light glowed in the room. The quilt was crumpled, and I smoothed it out.
Wes ran a hand through his messy hair. “My mother mentioned chocolate, didn’t she?”
“God, yes. Where’s that shopping bag?” I spotted the bags and grabbed two bottles of water as well as a bag of chocolate Kisses. Wes and I climbed back on the bed, peeling open candy and munching with the album between us like two kids having found a secret treasure in the middle of the night.
Ease shot through me. Any other guy, the ones in my experience, would be crabbing about wanting to get off. But not Wes. He was not only generous and kind, but he knew how important this was to me, and that mattered to him. I also knew that it was important to him too, to see these old pics of his parents in probably happier times, and I liked that it was meaningful to him like it was for me.
He caught me grinning at him. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“What is it?”
“I like that we can share this together.”
“Me too,” he whispered.
I opened the album. Each page had four photos inserted into four slots. The Jacks and the Broken Blades were on a run together. Each club’s bikes were lined up on the road, and each biker had his old lady with him. They were all waving at the camera or shooting the finger, grins on their faces.
“There’s Alicia.” I pointed to a shot of the long haired platinum blonde with smokey eye makeup and a petite thin body standing up on a chopper. She wore a bikini top and very short denim cutoffs and boots. Both her arms were up in the air as a man drove the bike, his beard and long braid of hair flying. The two of them laughing.
A smile curved Wes’s lips. “Mommy and Daddy.”
“They look like they belong on that bike together.”
His eyes were glued to the photo. “You’re right. They do.” His tone was wistful, soft.
“Damn, he’s some alpha hot man.” I giggled.
Wes shot me a look. “You say that like it’s unusual. Like you’re surprised.”
“I did not.”
“You don’t think I inherited that quality from him?”
“Umm…”
His jaw tightened, and his brow furrowed. I put a hand on his arm. “You’re a different kind of alpha hot man. Not gruff and rough all over like Jump. You’re more alpha around the edges. And when you get poked–watch the fuck out.”
Wes grinned at me, a sly careful-you’re-asking-for-it grin that made my pulse tick up like crazy. Chuckling, he flipped a page. More of Alicia and Jump hugging in group photos of the One-Eyed Jacks. Wes’s forehead creased as he probably remembered faces, placed people that didn’t seem immediately recognizable. There was one of Alicia kissing Jump as he held her up in his arms, as if he’d won her in a contest, best prize ever. Dudes stood around them cheering and holding up beer bottles.
“Your parents had lots of fun together.”
“They did.” He stared at the photo, chewing his lip.
I leaned my shoulder into his. “It’s nice, huh?”
Our gazes met. “It is.”
“I’m guessing you’ve never seen this album before?” I asked.
“First time. There are others. My mom loved taking photos for the club, of her and her friends. Souvenirs of golden times.”
“I sure am grateful she did.”
Something about Wes’s face remained wistful, sad.
I turned the page, and my breath cut. Broken Blades of yesteryear. “Here we go…” My pulse picked up at the familiar faces, our logo on their cuts. “Here’s Minty. He’s a Flame now.” I let out a laugh. “And still rocking this same handlebar mustache. And this is Notch.” I pointed to the skinny black-haired biker, who looked like he needed a shower and had just gotten kicked out of a heavy metal band after a long, ugly night.
“Yikes.”
“This is Zed, who was president before him, and his old lady, Angel.” I scanned the photos on that page, pouring over every face. My gaze froze over a photo of two big, burly men laughing, their arms slung around each other, giving the photographer the finger. “This is my dad and Raptor.”
“Whoa…there’s that tattoo on his throat and chest you told me about.”
“Impressive, huh?”
“Mmm. Dad and Zed with their bikes,” Wes murmured as he took out the photo to look at it closely.
“That’s your bike now, right?”
“I have it.”
“Looks the same. I would have thought that by now you’d have painted it yourself with something different.” He ignored my remark as he tucked the photo back in the album. I continued, “I have my mom’s old car, it’s a vintage Challenger, and one day I’m going to give her the all-star treatment.”
“A Challenger? Cool.”
“Sure is.”
He pointed at a photo of Zed and his Dad. “Zed’s bike is outrageous. Those handlebars…”
“Zed’s dad had been a Blade too. That chopper had been his.”
“Amazing.” Wes turned the page, and my heart jumped. “Lind, is that your mom?” He pointed to the photo of Mom and Dad. “You look just like her.”
“That’s what they tell me.” My voice came out quiet. “When I was little, I looked more like my dad, but the older I get, the more my mom comes out in me. At least that’s what Dad says. He says, ‘Thank God ‘cause I’ve got an ugly mug, baby.’ But he’s not ugly, at least I don’t think so.”
“No, he’s not. Rough, yes, but not ugly.” Wes nudged me with his body, and I let out a small laugh. “My mother was right.”
I met his bright gaze. “About what? What did Alicia say?”
“She said she’d only chatted with your mom a few times but there was something real genuine about her. Like an innocent country girl. You got that genuine too, Lindy.”
My whole body lit up with his words, the fierce way he looked at me. His gaze shot to my mouth, and I couldn’t resist. I pressed my lips softly against his.
He grinned. “Did she have your sassy mouth?”
“She sure did.” I let out a laugh, and we both went back to the photo album. More pics of the old ladies of both clubs. Alicia and Angel showing off their bodies in low-cut, sopping wet, white T-shirts in what was most probably the aftermath of a wet T-shirt contest. “Hot babes,” I murmured.
“Oh yeah.” Wes let out a laugh.
My gaze scanned the familiar Blades faces from my childhood, my heart squeezing that this moment in time had been captured. An icy prickle flared over my skin. This club, this family of mine, was no more and would never be again.
Another page. Couples kissing, Jacks leaning back against their bikes, laying down on the ground by their Harleys amidst a zillion empty bottles and cans of beer. My gaze landed on a pic of a handsome, dark blond guy, bare-chested in a Jacks cut with a young brunette at his side. They were both beaming, his long tattooed arm slung around her shoulders, bottles in their hands, drunk on love, drunk on each other. My finger tapped on the picture. “Why does she seem familiar?”
“That’s Grace and her first husband. He was a brother too. Got killed a few weeks before I was born.”
“Oh no.”
“She was pregnant at the time, like my mom was with me. But Grace ended up losing her baby.”
My hands shot to my mouth. “That’s awful.”
Wes turned the page. More Broken Blades. I took in each photograph slowly, carefully, my gaze pouring over every detail, every nuance as if I were drinking a fine wine, savoring its scent and every layer of flavor.
Notch dancing with a topless girl who seemed underage young. Angel having a laugh with Jump as she handed him a beer. Raptor kissing a woman in a deep, animal kind of way. Wes chuckled. “There’s some alpha hot man action for you.”
“What a lucky lady,” I murmured. Raptor held the woman up high in his arms, his huge muscles bulging. Her long cowboy booted legs were wrapped around his waist. My lungs crushed together in my chest. “Holy shit…”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“That’s…” My breath cut.
“That’s your mom!”
I brought the photo album closer to the lamp. That page was full of pics of Mom with Raptor and him with his hands on her. His mouth on her. His hands on her hips. On her bikini clad tits, her grinning. Their tongues out and touching. Another with my mother slung over his shoulder, her long hair flying, his hand on her ass like a cave man who owned her, and her raking her nails on his back as she laughed. My heart pounded in my chest. That ringing laugh of hers I loved so much went off in my head.
Wes flipped to the next page. “Jesus, look?—”
My parents posing with Raptor. The two men had their arms around Mom, one around her waist, the other over her shoulders. Both men possessive and yet perfectly at ease. And the look on Mom’s face? Defiant and pleased. “Holy fuck, they were a threesome. Holy fuck.” Adrenaline washed through me like a bolt of lighting.
Wes flipped pages back and forth. “This was way before you were born…”
I pushed my hair back from my face as I studied the photos. “We were a normal mom and dad and kid family. I didn’t see any sharing or menage shit going on, but what the fuck did I know?” My voice had gotten louder. “The three of them could’ve been bonking at the clubhouse while I was at school or at softball practice or?—”
His hands cradled my face. “Lind, Lindy, it’s okay.”
My skin heated. “It’s not okay! How could I not know?”
“Maybe they didn’t want you to know.”
“But…but…”
“Breathe. Come on. Breathe. Look at me, come on…that’s it.”
I took in a deep breath and let it out, focusing on Wes’s warm hand on the back of my suddenly clammy neck, on his steady deep-blue gaze.
“Let’s take this from the beginning,” he said softly. “You said you remember your dad and Raptor being good friends?”
“That’s what I remember from when I was little. But I don’t remember him coming over, hanging out with us at home ever.”
“You remember them fighting or falling out?”
“No.”
“Did you ever get a vibe around the club that they hated each other? Or your mom didn’t like him?”
“No, none of that. I don’t remember my parents ever talking bad about him. Or talking about him much at all. If they talked about the club at home, they’d gossip about Notch and his old lady fighting all the time. It was always a drama about Notch screwing young girls. Or his extreme point of view versus Zed’s. That I remember, but nothing about Raptor. Anyhow, Raptor wasn’t around too much. He would go on lots of special jobs for National or secret jobs for the club.”
Wes let out a huff of air. “Maybe he was also doing those jobs with Zed and my dad.”
“Maybe. I remember when Uncle Zed died and Notch became president, Raptor and Dad became officers, and then Raptor was around more.”
“Was he ever at your house with your mom, when your dad wasn’t home?”
“He never came over. And I’d remember because he always creeped me out a little. Had a way of staring that made me uncomfortable. Plus he was…larger than life.” My teeth scraped my lip as my brain sifted through images and memories and clips of conversations. “How could I not know?”
Wes closed the photo album. “It’s late, and you’ve had a fucking long and crazy day and night, and now you’re upset again and that’s not good. You need to relax. Let’s put this away and get some sleep.”
“Wait—” Grabbing the album, I flipped it open to the page where the pics of the three of them were. They looked comfy together. Happy together.
On fire together.
“Lindy, you’re upset?—”
“Wes, I’m not upset. I mean, I’m not upset because I’m shocked morally. I’m upset because what I assumed was true all my life was not true. There was a whole other life going on right in front of me and I never realized. That’s the shock.”
“I get it, believe me.”
My gaze snagged on his, and something in my chest heated. “I know you do.”
“Lie down.” He took the photo album from me and put it on the desk.
“What? Why?”
“So I can take off your shoes and you can relax, that’s why.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Lindy. Let me do something for you.”
Other than kiss me, touch me, lick me, make me come?
I laid down and Wes unlaced my hi-tops and slid them off my feet. His hands rubbed my arches. My body sank into the mattress. “Feels so good…” I groaned as he kept rubbing.
“You said your parents were happy together, and I’m 100% sure that’s true.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better? ‘Cause I don’t know what’s true or not at this moment.”
“What I’m saying is as kids we know.”
Grabbing the album again, I flipped to the page of another pic of Jump and Alicia that had caught my eye earlier. Alicia riding piggyback on Jump, the two of them laughing. I showed it to him. “That looks real happy to me. Do you remember this kind of happy when you were little?”
Releasing my feet, he climbed up on the bed next to me and took in the photo. “I do. It’s good to see, really is. But this is what I’m saying—as the years wore on, and once I got older and could compute my parents’ shit, they were not truly happy together anymore, not like this. By the time I hit middle school, so much resentment and anger had lodged between them like dried thorns and weeds, and that rotted and kept on building and building and got as thick and hard as cement. That I could feel. I didn’t understand it, but I knew it was there. That unease. That resentment. All this to say if it was bad between your mom and dad, you would’ve felt it on some level.” His fingers stroked my chest. “You would’ve known in here.”
My breathing picked up at his tone, his touch, his heavy gaze. His wisdom. “You’re right. I would’ve known.”
He laid down next to me and took out the photo of my parents and Raptor. “They look happy together, don’t they?”
“They do. Very happy.”
“Now that’s some alpha hot,” he whispered.
“It is.” I giggled.
Wes put the album on the dresser next to the bed along with the photo, kicked off his boots, and laid down next to me on a sigh. “Maybe in the beginning, when your dad and Raptor first joined the club, the three of them were together, but then for some reason they stopped. Maybe something happened or?—”
I turned over to face him. “Maybe I’m the something that happened. She got pregnant and Raptor wasn’t into being a dad and doing the whole family thing. Or Mom decided with a baby in the mix, she didn’t want to have a three-way situation anymore. Or she wanted a kid and he didn’t, so she and Dad–”
“Lindy–”
“Or maybe the club had a problem with it? Or Zed?”
“Lindy.”
“But that doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
Launching at me, he took my mouth and bit down on my lip, and I gasped, blinked as the sting of pain raced over my flesh. I gripped his arms, his taut muscles flexing. “Babe, stop.”
My eyes fluttered, and my heartbeat twitched at the way his voice pleaded and demanded, at the way he kept kissing me. “Stop what? Wondering? I can’t. I want to know.” His lips took mine once more, and I tore myself away. “Dammit, Wes, stop kissing me. I can’t think.”
“Good.” His tongue dove into my mouth again, and I melted, I heated. Flared. Floated.
I pushed him away. “Wes!"
On a chuckle, his head fell back against the pillow. “Here’s the bottom line—you love your mom and dad any less ‘cause you know this about them?”
“No.” I laid down next to him and let out a breath.
“There you go.” He took my hand.
My hand squeezed his. “I miss them so much.”
“I know you do,” he whispered back, and the ache in my heart only grew deeper. He took me in his arms and held me.
“So much.” A cry spilled from my lips as water filled my eyes. I cried, burying my wet face in his chest.
“Baby, the only one who can tell you the truth is your dad. Only Pick.”
I nodded, words beyond me. Emotions tangled in my brain, tears in my throat threatening to drown me. “If we ever find him. If he’s still alive.” I shut my eyes against the wave of horrible reality threatening to assault me all over again and burrowed deeper into Wes.
“We’re going to find him.” He kissed my forehead. “We’re going to find him and bring him home. I promise.” His chest rumbled with that strident word as his big hands stroked my back.
His steady heartbeat thrummed under me, and I breathed in his warm scent. Arousal and refuge. Sighing, I fell into the deepest sleep ever.