Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Hannibal
T he more time I’m around this woman the more drawn to her I am.
She’s a fucking stunner, don’t get me wrong, but it’s her eyes that hold me captive.
They say eyes are the window to the soul, and if that’s true, then I’ve never met a soul more haunted than hers.
When we arrive at the medical supplies store, I park as close to the entrance as I can so she doesn’t have far to walk.
“Wait while I get the door.”
I jump out before she can argue, walking around to open her door.
I reach in and unclip her belt before lifting her out of the car.
“Ready?”
She nods as I take her hand and lead her inside.
I grab a cart before heading down the first aisle with Lola walking quietly beside me.
“So what do you need exactly?”
“As I have no damn clue what you lot have onsite, a lot. All the first aid basics. I have medicines on order, so that’s not something we need to worry about right now. Think gauze, bandages, antiseptic wipes, and gloves. I’ll figure out the rest once we get there and I can do an inventory. I’ll need to figure out a space we can use for a clinic. They have a place they use now when the doc is called?”
“One of the boom rooms.”
“Sounds sterile.” Who the fuck puts a med bay next to a fuck pad?
“Here, grab what you can off this list.”
I hand it to her, and she smiles, looking relieved to have something to do.
I think about her being stuck in my room.
Even though I know it needs to be done, I’ll admit I’d have gone stir-crazy if it were me.
I make a mental note to grab her some books and shit to keep her busy.
Though if Havoc's right, Khan will make his move soon.
Havoc and Nevaeh ride out tonight to a relatively local book signing. If we’re being watched like we assume we are, they’ll make their move when the club’s resources are split. When that happens, I want Lola tucked up safe and out of the way. Driller was too much of a prick to appreciate what he had in Lola, but like they say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. And let’s face it, Lola learned her lessons in the most brutal of ways.
I keep an eye on her as she collects the items on her list while I go about picking out bigger items. I know a guy who can get me some specialized equipment, but until I know what kind of space I’m working with, it’s pointless. Realistically, my days of being the leading medic will be over the second I slip on the president patch. I can help, but I can’t be rushing off into deadly scenes that put me at risk. The men of the club will act to protect me and each time, I’ll be risking them. As shit as it is, becoming president means adjusting how I live my life and the risks I take. Plus, I have an old lady and a daughter to think about. Not forgetting a boy on the way who will need a man in his life, and it sure as fuck won’t be Driller. I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt the kid just to hurt Lola.
Once we have everything paid for and loaded into the truck, I drive her to the mall. I want to be here about as much as I want a colonoscopy, but she needs clothes befitting her old lady status.
“We can just go to a thrift store. I’m going to grow out of these things anyway soon.”
“So we’ll just get a few things and buy more when you need them.”
“I don’t want to waste your money, Hannibal.”
“It’s my money to waste.”
She grumbles something under her breath but doesn’t fight me when I drag her into Seraphine Maternity.
“Right. What do you need?”
She looks around, unsure and out of her depth. She steps closer to me and shrinks in on herself. “Maybe we can do this another day.”
“Lola—”
“Hi, can I help you?” I look up from Lola and to the saleswoman in front of me, one who looks a couple of years older than Lola. She eyes Lola before her gaze drifts to my cut. I wait for her judgment, but she keeps smiling. I guess my money is as good here as anyone’s. I make a note to come here again. Most people have a preconceived idea about bikers, and yeah, most of those ideas are probably right. But it’s nice for once to get someone who just doesn’t give a fuck.
“She needs some clothes. All the basics and whatever else she wants.”
“Of course. I can help if you like.” She addresses Lola, her gaze softening. “It can be a little overwhelming, I know, but I can pull a few things for you to try on. You can decide which style you like, and which feels comfortable, and we can go from there?”
Lola looks at me, and when I nod, she looks back at the woman. “Okay, that would be great. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. My name is Claire, by the way. Would either of you like a drink while you’re waiting?” She leads us over to the changing rooms. There's a waiting area with a row of sofas back-to-back down the middle.
“I’m good. Lola?”
“Um…maybe some water?”
“I’ll grab that for you in just a moment. Take a seat, Dad. I’m just going to take Mom’s measurements.”
I jolt as she calls me Dad, a wave of protectiveness washing over me.
I press my hand to Lola’s bump, which makes her pause.
She looks down at my large, scarred hand on her stomach and smiles when a little foot kicks me.
“You two look so sweet together.” Claire sighs, making me frown.
“Never been called sweet before,” I drawl making her blush and Lola laugh, the sound going straight to my dick.
“I’m not one to judge someone by what they wear or how they look. I judge them for how they act, and you sir are sweet towards your lady here, so I’m sticking with it. Now come on, let’s get you measured.” She leads Lola to the changing room directly in front of me and closes the door behind them.
I can hear them talking quietly, but can’t make out the words.
I pull out my cell phone and doom scroll.
Claire comes out with a smile on her face and heads back out to the shop floor.
I look up at the closed door.
“You okay in there?”
When she doesn’t answer I shove my phone in my pocket and walk to the door, tapping it.
“Lola.”
I hear a sniffle.
“Lola, open the door before I break it down.”
She curses, but I hear the lock click.
When the door swings open, I stare at her tear-streaked face.
She’s removed her sweatshirt, showcasing all her fading bruises.
“I mostly forgot about them until Claire asked if I needed help.” I tense at her words, but she continues.
“I told her the truth that it was my ex that did this to me. That you haven’t laid a finger on me.”
“She believe you?”
She nods.
“She said she usually had a pretty good radar about these things and though she can see you’re intimidating as hell, she thinks you’re sweet on me.”
“Sounds like she has pretty good instincts then. Still, I don’t like that she thinks I hurt you.” I grunt, reaching up to wipe away her tears.
“She didn’t have to ask. Most people don’t. They don’t want to get involved. I have a feeling she would've put herself between us if it meant getting me out safely. Don’t be mad at her for being a good person. It’s been so long since someone cared, it threw me.”
I step into her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I care, Lola.”
“Do you? Or am I just convenient?”
“Trust me, doll, there's nothing convenient about you. You’re a whole complication I never saw coming. I’m many things, but stupid ain’t one of them. When the chance came for me to make you mine, I took it. It wasn’t Havoc pushing you on me, if that’s what you’ve been thinking. I wanted you, and now you’re mine. It’s as simple as that.”
I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead as she reaches out and grips my cut. We stand there quietly, absorbing each other until a throat clears.
I turn my head and see Claire’s amused expression. “Definitely sweet,” she teases before holding up one arm with a bunch of clothes thrown over it and the other holding a bottle of water.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. The sooner we get you kitted out, the sooner you can get home and maybe get yourself a foot rub.”
Lola groans. “Oh, a foot rub sounds heavenly.” And my cock throbs at the tone of her voice.
“That’s my cue,” I mutter, moving out of the way and taking my seat before either of them notice I’m hard.
I try to think of anything other than Lola and the noise she’ll make as I’m fucking her. Not because I’m worried about how she’ll react. I’ve caught the way she looks at me. There's wariness there, and rightly so, but there’s interest, too. Even better, there's no fear, something I’m not accustomed to. I’m not stupid. There's no way she hasn’t heard the rumors about me. But if she has, she either doesn’t believe them or isn’t fazed one way or another. Makes me wonder what she’s been through if she isn’t scared of me. Most smart people are.
Lola aside, I’d rather not traumatize Claire. She’s been good to us so far, and Lola needs this more than I realized. Being with her, I’m picking up on a ton of shit I’ve missed before— that we’ve all missed. As soon as everything dies down and we’re settled, I want the full story of what happened. Why she walked away from Havoc, who might be flawed but is a fuck of a better option than Driller. And why she stayed as long as she did. I know leaving domestic violence situations is easier said than done, but she had to know it would be ten times harder with a kid in tow.
I get that she was scared, but there are places out there that would not only help her but hide her if she needed them to. The question is, why didn’t she? She sure as shit didn’t stay out of love. I might not know what it feels like to love someone, but I know what it looks like. Seems to me Lola would rather attend her own funeral than wedding.
It’s not loyalty because she wouldn’t have come to warn Havoc that trouble was brewing. Of course, there's still the chance she’s a spy, but that is beginning to seem more and more unlikely. Aside from the fact she’s asked zero questions and done no probing for information, she also hasn’t tried to leave the room. I know because I’ve had someone watching, curious to see what she’d do. Each watcher has reported back the same thing. That, as far as prisoners go, she’s boring as fuck.
“Okay, Dad, what do you think?”
The door opens, and Claire steps aside so I can see Lola. She steps forward, her head tipped down in that way it always seems lately. How a woman this spectacular thinks she can just fade into the background is beyond me.
I let my eyes rove over her body that’s tightly encased in a black dress that has thin straps and a scoop front that shows a glimpse of her perky tits. The hem hits just below the knee, a length I don’t think I’ve ever seen on her before. It should, in theory, be classy and demure, but the fact that it shows off every inch of her gorgeous fucking shape makes this dress almost obscene. There's no fucking way my dick is going down anytime soon now.
“Yes,” I growl, making Claire grin.
Lola flushes but keeps her gaze averted.
“You should get that one in every fucking color.”
“It shows a lot of bump and boobs,” she murmurs.
“Two of my favorite things. Show me what else you’ve got,” I tell her before looking at Claire. “Make sure that one goes in the yes pile and any others just like it.”
“Yes sir,” she follows Lola back into the changing room.
Each time they come out, I have to fight the urge to stop myself from bending her over this couch and fucking her blind. By the time they are done, I’m so worked up that I need to find an outlet for this pent-up energy before I snap.
“As you’ve measured her, can you grab a bunch of underwear and bras and meet us at the counter while I help her get dressed?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I absolutely can. Please do not leave me any messes to clean up.” I smirk at her as she turns and sashays away.
“Did she just imply that we were going to have sex?” Lola squeals from behind the door.
I tug it open and slip in to find her in a pair of black cotton panties and nothing else. She freezes with her back to me, her eyes on my reflection.
“Hannibal?” Her voice trembles as I scoop her hair out of the way so I can press a kiss to her shoulder.
“Fuck me, doll, I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life.”
I press my front to her back and slide my hands around to cup her stomach. The image of us together will forever be scorched into my brain. Slowly, I drag my hands up her body until I’m cupping both her breasts. I’m not a fool. I can tell when someone has had their tits done. Whoever did these deserves a fucking medal. When I flick her nipple with my thumb, she hisses.
“Sensitive?” I whisper, trailing my lips across her shoulder and up her neck to the spot behind her ear.
She shivers and moans. “Yes. Really sensitive. Sometimes even wearing a bra is too much.”
“Poor baby. Let me make them feel better.”
I turn her around before pressing her against the mirror. She gasps as the cold meets her skin which quickly turns into a moan as I dip my head and suck one of her cherry nipples into my mouth. She grabs my hair and holds me to her as I suck and nip before turning my attention to its twin.
Tracing my finger around the edge of her panties is the only warning I give her before I slide my hand under the material and slip my fingers between her legs. She widens her stance as I stroke her clit. Pulling my mouth from her nipple, I wrap my free hand around her throat, pinning her to the mirror. Her pupils blow wide before I slam my mouth down on hers and thrust two fingers inside her.
She’s so wet I can feel her juices running down my hand. “That’s it, doll. Let me make you feel good. I’m going to stroke this pretty kitty until you come all over my fingers.”
I nip her lip with my teeth, tugging at it for a moment before releasing it and licking the sting away. I keep thrusting my fingers inside her, my eyes locked on hers, daring her to look away.
“So fucking pretty. Keep those eyes on me, doll. I want to watch you fall apart.”