Chapter Eighteen
Elise ? Late December
Biting my lip nervously, I studied Natrona County International Airport’s flight announcement board closely, checking for the zillionth time that John’s flight had landed.
It was there, plain as day. Flight UAL1642 landed twenty minutes ago.
Confused, my gaze veered toward the tunnel the passengers came through—again, for the zillionth time—and stilled as a tall, muscular, handsome man emerged.
With a squeal, I waved softly and called out, “John.”
Gold met green, and a warm feeling slid through my belly as the world around me tipped straight and righted itself again.
John was home at last.
Within seconds, I was almost hauled from my feet as my man caught me up in a hug so warm and comforting, I could’ve cried. He didn’t smell like him anymore; motor oil and leather had been replaced by a hint of California sunshine, mixed with something woody and masculine. For a second, it threw me.
Strong hands framed my face and tipped it up. “Baby,” John muttered huskily, bending his neck and touching his mouth to mine before slowly pulling away.
I blinked, taking in all the changes.
Floppy, collar-touching hair was buzzed short and neat. Gone was the soft stubble I loved scratching my cheeks when he kissed me, and in its place was smooth, freshly shaved skin. All signs of fast MC living had given way to angular cheekbones and bulky muscles. It was jarring how much John had matured, even more in the few months since I’d last seen him.
John slid his arm around my shoulders and pulled me so closely against his side that his wrist and hand hung down just past my shoulder. He kissed the side of my head as we set off toward the exit and asked, “You bring Bessie?”
My hand slipped into my pocket, and I held up the keys. “What do you think?”
I felt his chest rumble as laughter rolled through it. He took the keys from me and muttered, “My girl’s developed some sass.”
I twisted my neck and peered up at him. “You have no idea, John Stone.”
Gold eyes turned on me and softened. “Can’t wait to find out.”
“You leave those assholes to me.” His hand, which had been glued to my thigh for the entire five-hour journey home, rubbed up and down. “I’ll sort it.”
“I don’t need you to sort it, John,” I argued. “I can sort it myself.”
“It happened because of me,” he argued back. “You lost your shit at Dad because I didn’t explain myself properly.”
I crossed my arms across my chest and flung myself back in the passenger seat.
I’d lost my shit with Bandit because John’s letter blindsided me and blamed his change of plans on his dad. However, we’d already argued over it, and it was his first day home. It didn’t seem fair to get into it with him.
John turned to study me, his lips twitching, and muttered, “See? Sass.”
My eyes rolled upward.
I’d suggested stopping off on the way home, grabbing a pizza, and renting a motel room for a couple of hours. Mr. Protective John Stone told me in no uncertain terms that there’d be none of that. His first port of call was the clubhouse so he could ‘see to his shit.’
‘His shit’ turned out to be ‘my shit,’ which got me madder than a March Hare because ‘his shit’ interfered with me getting to know my ol’ man again. John had introduced me to sex and made it so good that all I could think about was jumping his bones.
It had been a long time.
But no. John had to ‘see to his shit,’ so screw my needy vagina, or in this case—not.
“Buckle up. We’re here,” Stone said, turning the corner and driving Bessie onto the main road that led to the farm.
I knew he didn’t mean my seat belt.
By then, it was four p.m., and the light was dimming. The nights were drawing in, and the sky was made duller by the hint of snow in the air and the distinct icy chill that made your bones rattle. Going by the clubhouse, though, it may as well have been a hot July evening because groups of men and women stood around a raging bonfire, which lit up the winter sky like a beacon, leading John home.
I sensed his entire body slumping as if he’d been holding his breath for all the months he’d been gone and coming home finally allowed him to breathe easy. I could’ve cried for John because I knew how much he missed Connie, probably more so than his dad. It didn’t help that our relationship had also taken a hit this time, and he had to smooth things over between me and the club during his visit.
My throat went dry as a thread of guilt wrapped around my windpipe and squeezed. I hated John had to deal with my crap when he should’ve been making the most of the time he had with his family. But he’d started the chain of events that led us here, and it was good he wanted to smooth things over.
John slowed, turning into the opening and heading past the bonfire. He raised his hand in greeting as he drove by the brothers. Parking at the front of the farmhouse, he turned off the engine and then angled his face toward me. “Stay there; I’ll come around for you.”
I watched him jump out and jog around the hood, then he pulled open my door and held his hand out for me.
Filling my lungs to calm my racing heart, I took his hand, smiling nervously as he helped me down and slid his arm across my shoulder before we walked toward the crowd of people waiting.
Bandit walked toward us, and my heart thudded because he didn’t spare me a glance. His stare was glued to his son, taking in all the changes I’d already had time to process.
We slowed to a stop as we approached Bandit. I shivered at the ominous silence hanging in the air as the two men eyed each other warily.
“You went away a boy and came back a man,” Bandit bit out.
“No shit,” John drawled.
His dad’s eyes narrowed. “Mind your lip, boy. I can still put you down.”
“Maybe.” John shrugged. “But you’d have a hell of a fight on your hands now.”
Bandit’s eyes flicked to me and then back to John. “Is she worth it?”
“Is Mom? Is Iris? Are any of those asshole’s ol’ ladies?” John bandied back. “She’s not worth it. She’s worth everythin’.”
A wide grin spread across Bandit’s face. “Fair enough. You’ve convinced me,” he stepped aside to reveal a wall of brothers, “now you’ve just gotta convince them.”
I watched, fascinated, as John’s face turned to granite. His eyes flicked over the crowd of people, and suddenly, it hit me.
It could’ve been Bandit standing there.
John’s voice rang out loud, clear, and clipped with anger, “Where’s Seth?”
Feet shuffled, whispers and grunts filled the air, and the crowd parted to reveal the man himself, standing tall and somewhat cocky.
John raised a hand and pointed at Seth. “Me and you, here, ten minutes,” he boomed. “Do what you have to do, but be ready.”
Seth smirked. “I’m warnin’ you, Stone. I’ve been trainin’. It won’t be the easy fight you expect it to be.”
John grinned evilly. “Wanna bet?”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
“For those of you who’ve forgotten, this is my ol’ lady,” John shouted. “Club bylaws state that she should be protected. Now, I’m not sworn in as a brother yet, but one day, I intend to be, somethin’ every one of you knows. So, by my reckonin’, the instant Seth pointed a gun at her, one of you should’ve taken him down.”
“She mouthed off to Prez,” someone shouted.
“’Cause of my fuck up!” John roared.
Silence fell.
“Now, I want everyone to look at what happens to Seth tonight and know that next time any asshole disrespects my ol’ lady again, it’ll be their asses on the line. Watch and learn!” His glare went to Seth. “You decide, gloves or bare knuckle?”
Looking decidedly nervous, Seth said, “Bare knuckle.”
“Eight minutes,” John scraped out before turning us around and walking us toward the farmhouse.
My heart sunk to my belly, but I kept my mouth shut until we approached the farmhouse and saw Connie emerge from inside.
John’s hand whipped out and grabbed Connie’s nape. He pulled her into his chest, his other arm still holding me close so I could feel the word vibrate through his chest as he rasped, “Ma.”
Connie mushed her face into her son’s breastplate and sighed long and hard, her relief at seeing him palpable. “I heard from the window, Son,” she murmured, pulling back slightly to look up into his face. “We’d better get you ready.”
He shrugged this leather jacket off and handed it to his mom. “I’m ready”
Connie looked down at his feet. “You need your boots. Sneakers won’t do much damage.”
John held his hands up. “I don’t need boots for this.” His hand went to the hem of his tee, and he pulled it from his waistband until it hung loose. “Pass my dagger outta my jacket.”
“John,” I whispered through my heated throat.
He turned toward me and took my face in his hands. “Babe. I can’t lose. I’m fighting for your place and, ultimately, mine. You don’t fuck around with these men.”
“I don’t care,” I said pleadingly. “If it’s getting to where you need knives to prove a point, it’s not worth it.”
John’s hands fell from my face. “If I let it slide, they’ll never respect me. If I’m gonna be Prez one day, they need to know I mean business.” His tone held a note of impatience. “This is biker life, Duchess. We settle things with our fists—more if needed.”
I thrust a hand through my hair, turning to Connie. “What if he gets hurt?”
“We’ll be here to patch him up,” Connie assured me. “John’s right. This is the way the men settle things. Seth slighted John and what belonged to him, so John has the right to settle it. They’ve worked their crap out this way since the day Bandit founded the club, Elise. It won’t change because you and I don’t like it. They don’t call the cops, and they don’t sue. They sort it with their fists. It’s their law and, in a way, their culture.”
“I won’t lose, Leesy,” John promised me.
“What if he pulls a gun on you?” I demanded.
He dipped his chin and looked me dead in the eye. “Then I’ll deal with it. I’ve trained for this, babe. All my life, Dad showed me what was expected. In the last few months, I’ve learned even more about defending what’s mine. You gotta trust me.”
I went to argue again, but my mouth clamped shut.
The fact was, I did trust John. I trusted him with my heart and my life. I trusted him one day to be a good husband to me and a good father to my kids. I didn’t profess to agree or even understand him fighting Seth, but I had a feeling it ran deeper than just what happened with me. It was more about club politics and, above all else, John’s honor.
Connie pulled me back toward the house. “Come on, we need to get out of the way and let John do what he needs. No interfering, Elise. If anything happens to him, we’ll patch him up, but remember, Bandit’s been training John since he was five. He’ll be okay.”
“I’ve never seen John fight,” I whispered, stretching my neck up to see what was happening as we took our seats on the porch.
Connie patted my hand. “Then watch.”
I leaned forward, watching John and Seth stare each other down as Bandit spoke to them both before walking away.
Seth leaned forward and snarled something into John’s face, which was his first mistake because, quick as a flash, John headbutted Seth, who let out a yelp of pain.
A roar went up, somebody switched the music on, and the brothers began to shout encouragement to the two men as the fight started in earnest.
I held my breath, hardly registering the opening bars to ‘Back in Black’ by AC/DC thump out of the clubhouse because John and Seth were circling each other, looking for an opportunity to get the next hit in.
Seth went first, trying to land a punch to John’s jaw, but my guy saw it coming a mile off. He ducked right, so the blow whistled past his ear, before he twisted and landed a hard jab to Seth’s kidneys.
The crowd collectively sucked a breath in through their teeth.
Seth, who by then was doubled over, looked up and flung himself at John, taking him to the ground so he landed on top, which gave him an immediate advantage. His fists flew, and he managed to land John once in the face, but he came unstuck when John moved his head just in time, and Seth punched the icy ground.
John bucked hard, and Seth, who yowled in pain, flew off. As my guy stood, Seth flung himself at John’s knees and brought him down again, except that time, John angled his body to land on top of Seth’s. He straddled his chest and landed two blows to Seth’s face, one on each side of his jaw, making his head loll to one side.
“Point a gun at my girl again, and I’ll point one at you,” John snarled at Seth. He looked up, scanning the crowd of men, watching the fight with bated breath. “And if you fuckers think you’re gonna see her in the street and blank her, it’ll be you next time.” He clambered off his brother and got to his feet, turning to walk away.
Seth suddenly jackknifed into a sitting position and slowly got to his feet.
John must’ve heard the scuffle because he looked back just as Seth made another dive for him. John sidestepped, pulled back, and punched Seth’s nose. Seth swung around, his hands going to his pocket, and he pulled a gun from the inside of his cut.
The click of the safety sounded through the air.
I jumped up from my seat, my hand flying to my chest, and shrieked, “John, he’s armed.”
“Put the gun down, Seth,” Bandit spat.
“You said you wouldn’t interfere, Prez,” he retorted.
John narrowed his eyes on the scene, his eyes calculating.
“No weapons,” Bandit roared. “You sort it with your fists.”
Seth looked up at his prez to say something, but that was his mistake. The second his focus fell somewhere else, John pulled his dagger from the sheath hidden under his tee and threw it as quickly as a lightning bolt.
My hand went to my mouth as I watched the blade fly toward Seth and slice into the arm holding the gun, sticking him so deep that it wedged in, and the handle protruded.
Seth cried out in pain, dropping the weapon on the ground, his other arm automatically coming over to cradle his injured limb. Within seconds, John was on him, his fists flailing so fast it was difficult to see. The sickening thwack of flesh hitting flesh filled the air, and I raised a hand to my mouth in shock.
“Shit,” Connie spat, getting to her feet. “Bandit. Stop them. Seth’s had enough.”
Bandit nodded at Abe, and they waded into the fray.
The Prez banded his arms around John’s body, effectively caging him in, and pulled him back until his heels dragged. “That’s enough, Son,” he crooned. “You’ve made your point.”
Abe went down on his haunches, checking Seth’s face over. Looking up, he caught Bandit’s stare. “He’ll live, but his nose will never be the same.”
Chuckles and mutters flickered through the crowd, along with shouts of “Good fight, Stone” and “Best man won.”
I watched as John composed himself. His eyes locked with mine, and he jerked his head, beckoning me over.
“Go on, Elise,” Connie murmured. “Your ol’ man needs to make his point with the rest of them now. You need to be by his side.”
With my heart in my mouth and my stomach still churning at what I’d just witnessed, I staggered from the porch, heading for John. Even though I wanted to run for the hills rather than confront these men, I walked straight into my man’s chest, sighing as his strong, warm arm slid across my shoulders.
“Anyone else got somethin’ to say about my girl?” John bellowed. “’Cause I’m ready, able, and willin’ to sort it here and now, the same way I just did with Seth.”
Feet shuffled, and eyes hit boots rather than look John in the face.
My heart sank as one of the brothers, KC, stepped forward to address John, and a deadweight settled in the pit of my stomach.
KC’s big, beefy arms crossed over his barrel chest, beady black eyes resting on John. “You’ve made your point, young Stone.” His mouth stretched into a broad smile, revealing a missing tooth. “Your ol’ lady can call on me if she gets any more shit off this bunch of fuckheads, and you’re not here to sort it. You earned it after that.” He cocked his head to one side, his fathomless stare narrowing on my guy. “Where’d ya learn that move with the dagger? It’s shit hot.”
John’s stare slid to Bandit, then back to KC. “I learned from the best.”
Bandit smirked proudly before his head swiveled to address the brothers. “Show’s over. Get your asses inside. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.” He gestured toward Seth, who by then was sitting up with his head in his hands. “Take Apollo-fuckin’-Creed here with you. Somebody get that dagger out of his arm. I think he needs a strong one. Open that hooch, give him two shots, and for God’s sake, somebody stay sober enough to keep an eye on him tonight in case he’s gotta concussion.”
Two men came over and hauled Seth to his feet, following the others as they made for the clubhouse, one under each arm, dragging him forcibly toward the door.
All tension left John’s body. He kissed my temple and asked, “You okay, baby?”
I peered up at him, wincing at the cut on his eyebrow. “I’ve never seen anything like that, John. I didn’t know you were such a good fighter.”
Bandit cackled. “He’s a chip off the old block, girlie. Just like his old dad.” His stare swung to me. “Maybe next time you’ll remember the consequences when you feel like flouncin’ in here to give me lip.”
“Dad,” John muttered, tone full of warning. “Don’t.”
Bandit’s eyes glittered angrily as he studied me. “You’re back in, but these men hold grudges. I only want you here when you’re with John, at least for the time bein’.”
My gaze met his hard one, and my blood turned to ice.
John may have made a point to the brothers, but his dad wasn’t buying it, and he wasn’t buying me. Bandit’s distrust of me went deep. He’d always seen me as a townie, not suitable for his son, and definitely not to be trusted. When I lost my head at him, I’d proven him right. In his eyes, I wasn’t ol’ lady material and never would be. John could take on the entire club and win; hell, I could fight them myself, but Bandit’s opinion of me would never change.
He’d made his mind up.
And it didn’t bode well for me and John.