Chapter 20
Four Days Later
It was nearly ten-thirty on a Thursday night when I walked out of the diner.
Aware Pistol would still be on patrol until midnight, I already made plans to wait for him at the clubhouse rather than go straight home.
After almost two weeks of giving us a chance, we’d fallen into a routine of sorts.
We weren’t exactly domesticated, and club drama had everyone on edge, but we were communicating. We were learning.
We were becoming less and less like strangers and more and more like the husband and wife we were.
As ever, when I arrived on the compound, mine wasn’t the only car parked in the lot. I spotted Sofia’s SUV and smiled to myself, glad to know she chose to wait for her man at the clubhouse, too.
Like it was discussed at the meeting I attended with Pistol before our first date, the Stallions were on patrol around the clock, working in pairs.
Fury and Pistol were on duty three nights a week, five to midnight.
While the Copper Kings had yet to escalate matters, they were still encroaching into Stallion territory attempting to sell sex and drugs.
I tried to take comfort in the fact that things had yet to get violent.
It seemed too soon to assume Pistol was in the clear regarding the dead King, but with every passing day, it was hard not to grow in confidence that what he boasted was true.
He cleaned up his mess well. Even the cops were forced to keep their distance, with no substantial evidence available to allow them to do more than ask questions regarding their recent missing persons case.
It would have been a lie to say my hope wasn’t clinging to the possibility I’d married a man who knew how to get away with murder.
While circumstances were far from peaceful, I was beginning to feel like I was in the right place at the right time; like the life I was chasing in Gillette was a shoe I was trying to make fit when all along I was destined for something else.
Something greater. I had a purpose right here at home—and in fulfilling it, my chance at happiness was very real.
Upon entering the clubhouse, I paused to get the lay of the land.
The place was far from empty, but the vibe was more laid back than rowdy.
Recently, I could sense there was a level of comfort and security on the compound we all craved.
Many of the ranked members were scattered about the room, playing pool or poker with a drink nearby.
I noticed Sofia at the bar with Hazel and Viv.
Viv caught my eye and waved a hand, signaling me over to join them.
“Hey there, honey. You drinkin’ tonight?” asked Sofia as I took the empty bar stool next to hers.
I glanced at the counter and noticed both Viv and Sofia had a bottle of beer in front of them while Hazel had something in a cup I guessed was a bit stronger.
With a little more than an hour to kill, I looked behind the bar and saw Tex coming toward us.
The ever-so-diligent probie pointed to my empty hands and I smiled.
“I’ll have a beer, thanks.”
He turned for the fridge the same time Viv asked, “Did you come straight from work?”
“Yeah. Figured I could wait on Pistol here.”
Sofia flashed a mischievous grin just as Tex put an uncapped bottle of beer in front of me.
“What?” I murmured, reaching for my drink. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Things between you two are evolvin’. We haven’t had an update in a couple weeks, but you seem happier.”
“Oh. Yeah,” I replied, unable to keep the smile off my face. “We’re getting used to each other.”
“Mmhmm,” hummed Vivienne. “I think it’s more than that.”
I brought the bottle of beer to my lips and let the cold drink glide over my tongue. As my mind flooded with recent memories, all of which made me deliriously happy, I tried not to blush, willing the beer to keep me cool and collected.
What I told them was true. Pistol and I were getting used to each other, and it was way more fun than I thought it could be.
I brought to mind Saturday afternoon. I was at work when the furniture truck arrived with the bedroom set. Pistol called me twice before I understood he wasn’t going to stop, and I needed to take five. I accepted his third call from Viv’s office.
‘Nothing too major. Your words, not mine,’ he’d grumbled, unmistakably annoyed.
More than worried over his tone, I was disappointed I would have to wait for the end of my shift to get home and see how everything looked. Our new duvet set had arrived, but I’d stowed it all away in the guest room, waiting for the perfect moment to unpack it and complete the design.
‘Lyla…’
His impatience was familiar but not nearly as intimidating as I’d known it to be.
‘You’re a grown-ass man, baby—grown-ass men own nightstands. And if they don’t, they marry women who buy them some.’
‘Funny. Pretty sure my credit card statement would prove you didn’t buy shit.’
I couldn’t help but to smile, picturing him on the phone with me, watching the movers do their thing.
‘You said if I needed something I should say something, right? Well, I need a nightstand on my side of the bed.’
‘And this dresser? Had one. Moved you in and you came with one, too.’
‘Ri—neither of them matched.’
‘Lyla…’
‘Don’t mind you give a fuck. Prefer it, if I’m bein’ honest—your words, not mine.’
After that, he grumbled something incoherent before he hung up on me.
Later, when I got home, I learned he finally took a good look at his credit card statement. We fought about it. Then when I told him I’d help him pay it off, he got even more pissed.
Then he fucked me on top of the dresser.
Yeah. We were getting used to each other.
I even had the sore bits to prove it.
Yesterday, the area rug for the living room was delivered.
Its arrival didn’t spark an argument—but after he helped lift the couch so I could roll it out the way I wanted, we broke in the rug, too.
Soon, we were going to run out of new surfaces on which he could own my body.
Not that I think that would stop him.
“Lyla Wells—are you thinking about that man naked right now?” teased Sofia, playfully jabbing me with her elbow.
Wells.
Hearing my name like that was still so foreign…
But it felt good, too.
Really good.
“Man. Seems like another lifetime ago when Cecile and I were newlyweds, but I still remember that high,” said Viv with a smirk.
“Yeah, me, too.”
“Oh, please. Let’s not pretend what they have is anything more than good sex,” griped Hazel, completely shifting the mood.
I frowned in her direction, taken aback by her outburst.
“Hazel!” chastised Sofia.
“They hardly know each other. They didn’t get married because they were in love, and she has neither ink nor kutte marking her as his.
That ring on her finger means almost nothing.
” She tossed back the last of what was in her cup before her eyes found mine.
“He’ll get bored and that piece of paper binding you together won’t stop him from stepping out on you.
Look around. I don’t need to tell you, he’ll have his pick. ”
“Haze—”
Before Viv could say a word, Hazel slid off her seat and walked around the bar. We all watched as she grabbed a bottle of tequila and poured a couple fingers in her cup. Satisfied, she returned the bottle, snatched up her drink, and went to find different company across the room.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s just jealous,” insisted Viv.
“Jealous? Of me?”
“She and Rooster have been together nearly a decade,” Sofia began to explain. “They’ve had their ups and downs, like every couple does. Right now, they happen to be down.”
I turned to peer over my shoulder, looking for Rooster. It didn’t take me long to find him. When I did, Hazel’s words sounded in my head like an echo.
‘Look around…he’ll have his pick.’
Her man was sitting in a leather armchair, beer in hand, eyes trained on the topless woman putting on a show for him. He wasn’t touching her. Not yet, anyway—but I guessed it was only a matter of time.
I looked away and spotted Cherry. She was on her knees, her redhead bobbing as she worked another man’s cock. I didn’t want them to, but memories from my wedding night rushed to the forefront of my mind.
This time, it was Riley’s voice I heard in my head.
‘You’re gonna have to let that one go.’
Much as I didn’t want it to be true, that was easier said than done—but forgiving Riley had proven to be easier than forgiving myself.
Turning away from the scene, I faced the bar, suddenly feeling both sorry and sick.
Sorry for Hazel and sick over myself.
My remorse was fed knowing it was women like me with whom ol’ ladies like her were forced to compete. At least, women like I used to be.
I often wondered who I’d be now if not for Carmy. His presence was a looming warning. Our history a constant threat. But now, it wasn’t just my brother and the complicated nature of our relationship that influenced who I was becoming.
Lyla Wells.
I was someone’s wife.
In my wildest dreams, I was on the cusp of having everything I ever wanted.
Except, confronted with Hazel’s reality, I wasn’t sure if I had the right to be this happy.
Tugging my eyebrows together, I shifted my gaze down into my lap, the ache of my guilt and shame gnawing at my insides.
The guilt came with admitting I was no better than any of the club whores in the room—a truth I’d managed to keep to myself all these years.
It didn’t matter that I’d fallen for a Stallion before.
It didn’t matter that I would have done anything for him to make me his.
In the Gillette clubhouse, I was a plaything.
The shame came with the knowledge that I always offered myself willingly.
No rules.
No boundaries.
No regrets.
It was reckless. Sometimes heartless. Often stupid.
And now that I found myself on the other side, I was beginning to understand it wasn’t as liberating as I once believed.
“I’m going to go check on her. I’ll be right back.”
I watched Sofia hop off her seat, her compassion beckoning her across the room. She wasn’t gone but a breath before Vivienne was at my side.
“No relationship is perfect. No man is, either. You and Pistol don’t have to be doomed to the same fate.”
“Maybe not, but she has a point. I’m not new to this world. I know the difference between a wife and an ol’ lady.”
“Given the circumstances, I know it might not feel like it, but there’s no rush. You two have time. You seem to be enjoying it, and that’s a good thing.”
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to get back to that place of being deliriously happy.
Try as I might, I couldn’t help but ask, “And what happens if he changes his mind about me? Then what? Will I be like her?”
Viv propped her elbow atop the bar, leaning against her arm as she studied me intently. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, and I felt myself growing anxious before a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
“Sure,” I answered with a shrug. “I came into the diner looking for work. You hired me on the spot. Still don’t know why, but I’m glad you did.”
“You were recommended.”
“What?” I shook my head in surprise. “I don’t—”
“Got a call from an old friend. Heard a blue-eyed beauty with a rebel spirit and a hell of a wild streak might be comin’ to town. If I saw you, promised I’d take you in.”
For a moment we stared at one another, Viv giving me a chance to work it out.
I knew almost instantly there was only one person she could be talking about, but it didn’t make sense that she’d recommend me for anything.
Winnie was kind, but she wasn’t stupid and she never bullshit anyone.
We weren’t friends. Neither had I ever given her a reason to think fondly of me.
I never went after Bull, but that was because while she might have been kind, his ol’ lady exuded a quiet ferocity I knew better than to tempt.
“I don’t understand,” I murmured, unable to make it make sense.
Viv laughed quietly, then leaned toward me and spoke softly. “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are, Ly. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve, but it’s not hard to see in your eyes. Not to anyone who’s paying attention.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
Not that it mattered.
Viv wasn’t finished.
“Everyone has a past, babe. Some more sorted than others. Whoever you were, she shaped who you are now. And who you are now matters more than who you were then. But more than any of that, who you want to be matters most.
“I won’t claim to know the depths of your heart—but to the naked eye, it seems who you want to be is his. And I don’t blame you.”
Viv reached over and gave my wrist an affectionate squeeze before she straightened and grabbed her beer.
“Don’t let anyone else write the ending to your story. Trust your gut and let it play out on its own.” With a bow of her head, she ordered, “Come on. Hazel might act like a bitter old broad, but she means well, and she needs her posse tonight.”
While I still wasn’t sure if I considered Hazel a friend, I followed Viv’s lead. It felt a bit like penance—for all the times I’d been the reason fueling another woman’s pain. And even though it didn’t seem like much, I was ready to pay up.
An hour later, when my man and his dog walked through the clubhouse doors, I had my reason why.
I watched him as he cleared the doorway, stopped, and scanned the room. When he found me, he halted his search, and it took everything in me not to jump to my feet and race across the distance between us like a puppy.
It was impossible to deny the pull I felt toward him.
My past aside, and his as well, I wanted Viv to be right.
Charity, too. So what if life had thrown us together into a pressure cooker and forced us into marriage.
And who cared how low our chances of success might be.
We were giving it a go, which was all any of us could do.
When he jerked his chin at me, silently beckoning me to him, I didn’t overthink it.
No sooner was I in reach than he had hold of the back of my neck, pulling me into his side as he descended for a kiss. He took from me until he was satisfied, and I was almost disappointed when he had his fill and lifted his face away from mine.
“Let’s ride,” he muttered so only I could hear.
I gave him a little more of my weight, tightening the grip I had on the front of his kutte.
Fuck, but he was hot.
Two words, and I was putty in his hands.
“My car’s here,” I managed to communicate.
“Leave it. We’ll get it tomorrow.”
This man spoke my language.
Forget putty—I was going to be a puddle if he kept at it.
I agreed with a nod, which was about all I could manage without embarrassing myself, but it was enough.
Pistol let go of my neck, draped his arm across my shoulders, and without so much as a word or a wave goodbye, we were gone.