Chapter Eighteen
TRAVIS
N asty sex with a hint of sweet. It’s my new favourite way to make love to her. She’s sat on the stone wall watching me as I do all her jobs. It’s kind of cute. Like having my own little admirer who finally came along and clicked the reset button in me.
Today was the first morning I’ve woken up and was happy to come here, to the farm. I know it was Mollie’s birthday yesterday. She doesn’t know that I do yet, but giving her this day off is the first part of what I have planned. I’d asked Janette, knowing she would be able to look on Mollie’s application form and let me know. And she did. Because she loves me. I’ve always known it. Always accepted it. I just didn’t understand why when I fear all I’ll do is let them down.
Now, it doesn’t matter. Because I know that my future has Mollie in it. And Mollie’s here. With them. So, whether I think I’m deserving or not, I have three people in my corner who want the best for me.
“I can feel your eyes burning,” I tell Mollie, wiping my head with the back of my hand before turning the cap on my head backwards. “See something you like?”
My shirt’s off, my skin sweating where I’ve shifted a tonne of shit and lugged three heavy barrels from one end of the field to the other. Not to forget, I also mended the gate at the end of the path leading to the small barn on the grounds. That place is so run down, I don’t know why I bothered.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely seeing something I like.” She takes a sip from the can of Fanta she’s drinking before holding it to her head. It’s a hot day. No way she could have managed all these jobs alone. I know she would have had Mick, but it feels good being the one to help carry her load.
“What time you heading out?” Mick asks, pulling both of our attention to him.
Mollie looks at me.
“Uh, whenever I’m done here.”
He nods. Then he’s quiet. Waiting.
“You alright?” I ask him. I turn my gaze to Mollie.
She gives me a nod, jumping down from the wall, leaving us to chat in private.
He gives her a nod as she passes him, then scratches at his head. “I need to apologise to you, Son.”
Son. The word is heavy. Whatever he’s about to say is coming from the place love comes from; deep within your soul.
“No you don’t.” I don’t need to hear anything from him. I know I haven’t pulled my weight around here. It should be me apologising to him.
“Yes, I do.”
“Mick—”
“Bloody hear me out. Hell fire, I need to say this.”
I stand down, pulling my t-shirt from my back pocket and hooking it over my shoulders. I wipe my brow, waiting for him to look at me.
“I know the club is where your allegiances lie, I can’t argue the toss about that anymore.”
I sigh, not wanting this to end in an argument.
“I also know, you’ve been a different man since Mollie came along.”
My eyes dart to his.
“I know it’s early days, and you and Dean are getting your business going, but I want you to know that I am so fucking proud of you. I realised; I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. So, I’m saying it now. You make me happy and proud, Son.”
Unsure I’m hearing him right, my face scrunches, a whole new onslaught of emotions kicking inside me. He’s fucking proud? Of me? “I can’t be hearing you right.”
“Don’t be smart.”
“No, Unc, this isn’t me being smart.” I shake my head, disbelieving. “I think… I think this is me not knowing what to say.”
He jolts, I just know he’s being a sarcastic wanker. “Christ a-fucking-live. He’s finally not got a comeback.”
My lips pull into a straight line but the weight on my shoulders is no longer there. My face relaxes and I stand still. Quiet. Content. I have a girl who loves me, and things between me and my uncle are oddly, not odd for the first time in fucking ages. How can things shift so quickly? The things I thought I knew all flood to the surface. I knew fucking nothing.
“At the risk of throwing you deeper into shock, I have something else for you.”
He reaches into his pocket, then with conviction, he tosses me a key.
I look up. “What’s this?”
“It’s for the old barn house.” My face is riddled with confusion. “I’m guessing you and Mollie will want a place of your own?”
I can’t help but look over my shoulder at the heap of shit he’s talking about. The door is broken. The roof questionable. There’s a hole on one side of the building. I don’t even need the key in my hand to get inside. But I understand what he’s giving me. I look back at Mick.
“Your more , Son. It’s right there for the taking.” With a pat to my back, he leaves me, standing motionless on the spot.
There are a million things I should say. A million ways in which I should promise him I’ll pay him back for his generosity. But only one thing comes to my mind. “It needs a bit of fucking work, don’t you think?”
Mick laughs. Not turning around, he shouts back to me. “Good job you know a few painter and decorators.” Then he waves a hand, signalling he won’t see me again today.
I pull out my phone.
Me: Get ready to go out, baby. We have a birthday to celebrate
An hour later, Mollie’s on the back of my bike, her hands wrapped around my waist, her head pressed to my back. If there’s a greater feeling of being loved, then I haven’t experienced it. Like the last time she was on here with me, I take a few corners a little faster, forcing her to have to hold me tighter. She knows what I’m doing. Her hand on my crotch squeezes and pinches each time I do it.
I smile, revelling it, enjoying the sun on my skin and my girl’s arms wrapped around me. Purpose. It’s an eye opener for sure .
I drive her into town and park outside this Italian place my aunt raves about. Once inside, I pull out a chair for her to sit down.
She beams at me, lifting the strap of her bag over her head before lowering to the seat.
I lean down, my hands on her shoulders, placing a kiss on her cheek before whispering in her ear, “You look beautiful.”
Mollie looks up at me, her eyes sparkling. She doesn’t believe me. But if she could see what looking at her is doing to my body, she’d know how much she turns me on. Wearing denim short dungarees over a white t-shirt, she’s wearing the boots I love, and her hair’s tied back with a polka dot scarf tied at the top. She looks like a pin-up girl.
“Have you been drinking?” she jokes.
I laugh and kiss her head, getting a hit of her scent before I take my seat next to her.
Resting my hand on her knee, my thumb runs light strokes as she grabs a menu.
“Ow, this looks nice.” Her eyes immediately go down and scan what’s on offer. “What to have, what to have.” Her lip disappears under her teeth.
“Get whatever you want.” I give her leg a little squeeze. “My treat.”
She looks at me curiously. “You never did say how you knew it was my birthday.”
I smile. “Janette told me.”
“Of course she did.” Mollie laughs looking back at the menu. “You didn’t have to do anything, though.”
I’m guessing she didn’t tell anyone about her birthday because she didn’t want a fuss. “I know. I wanted to.”
The waitress comes over, her eyes flitting from my cut to my face. “Can I get you some drinks?”
“Pint of Guiness for me and…” I look to Mollie.
“Glass of white wine for me, please.”
The waitress smiles, walking away and returning with our drinks a few moments later. I take a sip from my glass.
Mollie giggles, the noise fucking beautiful. “Come here,” she says.
I look at her curiously, my arm now draped over the back of her chair. “Why?”
She laughs again. “Come here.” She says it more forcefully this time .
“You can come to me, Baby Doll.”
She rolls her eyes at me, smiling. “Fine.” Mollie places her hand on my thigh then leans her face close to mine. Her other hand holds my cheek as she runs her tongue over my top lip. Good God, what is she doing to me? She pulls back, and I’m graced with the sight of her licking her lips. “You had Guiness froth on your lip.”
My heart’s pounding suddenly. “You can’t look like you do, do what you just did, and not expect me to do something about it.”
Her eyes widen before she smirks at me. “And risk two years’ imprisonment for indecent exposure. Unlikely you’d risk it all for a quick fuck.”
I sit up, my hand on the back of her nape pulling her closer to me. I run my thumb over her bottom lip, making them part. “No. But I’d risk it all for you.”
She sucks in some air. “Oh, fuck,” she pants, now as needy as me.
“Oh fuck, indeed.” I press my lips to hers, my tongue invading her mouth slowly.
Her back straightens and her hand on my thigh tightens.
“So what are we supposed to do about it?” I ask.
We’re interrupted when the waitress coughs, standing by our table.
I should care, but I really don’t. However, when I see Mollie tucking her hair behind her ear and she’s back to nibbling her lip, I release her, grabbing the menu and looking at the waitress. “What would you recommend?”
Her cheeks blush. “Urm, the Fettuccine is—”
“—Great. We’ll take two of those.” I look at Mollie who looks horrified. “Please,” I add, giving her a subtle roll of my eyes.
The waitress leaves, going to a family sitting near the back of the restaurant, and I’m back to looking at Mollie, wondering how long I’ll have to wait before I can get my hands on her properly.
“Your eyes are burning.” She smiles, taking a sip from her glass.
“Damn right they are.”
She places her glass back on the table. “What did Mick want earlier?”
Her swift change of conversation tells me she needs a distraction from me. Her legs are crossed and her eyes never truly meet mine. She feels the pull the same as me. “He told me he was proud of me.”
Mollie’s eyes dart to me then. “He did? ”
I playfully knock her chin with my knuckles. “Don’t act so surprised.”
“Sorry.”
I take a sip of my drink, wiping my top lip after I’ve put it back down. Mollie’s eyes run over them, checking. “He said he accepted the club and was happy that I had you now.”
Mollie’s expression turns a little doting. “That must have been nice to hear.”
I huff with a small laugh. “Certainly wasn’t something I was expecting.” From our seat by the window, I watch a van drive past, then see it pull over to a stop. “Things are finally starting to feel right with everything.”
“That’s good.”
I smile. “I think it’s because you came along.”
Mollie falters. “I’m not sure you can put things falling into place all on me. You and I didn’t exactly see eye to eye when we first met.”
“True.” I still can’t believe it hasn’t been that long. I pull her chair closer to mine. “But being around you has meant I’ve been at the farm more, which has only served to make Mick and Janette happier. And if that’s something I can give them, then I have you to thank.”
She smiles at me sweetly, resting her chin on the back of her hand.
“All that’s left to do is patch things up with your family and we’ll be right as rain, baby.”
Her beautiful eyes close and her shoulders fall. “The only way I patch things up with my dad is if I go back with him. Which I’m not going to, so I think that will be one wound we won’t be able to fix.”
“One day you will. Hey, if I can fucking do it, you can do anything.”
She muses, but she doesn’t believe me. I can tell by the way her eyes droop. “I think it would take something pretty huge to make me want to leave the farm.” Our eyes lock, and I know what she’s thinking.
I lean forward, taking her hand in mine. I kiss the back of it, then hold it as I look deep into her thoughts. “I’m not going to hurt you or give you a reason to leave, baby.”
Her chocolate eyes mist over. “Do you promise me?”
“I promise.”
Over her shoulder, I see the van reversing, moving closer to the front of the restaurant. I notice the bright white lights getting closer, wondering when the fuck he’s going to start slowing down .
He doesn’t.
I’m motionless as it mounts the curb outside, narrowly missing my bike, before he’s gaining momentum, the sound of his engine getting louder and louder.
“Mollie, run!” I yank her hand, dragging her from the table, and scoop her into my arms out of the van’s path.
It collides with the glass, shattering it to a million pieces. My ears are ringing. My hands shake. The aftermath of his destruction echoes all around us.
The van door opens with a swing, and I see the look of hatred smothered across the driver’s face through the dust in the air. He’s looking for someone. The awful knot in my gut tells me it’s me. There’s no one else in this building who deserves to be mowed down so callously.
I uncurl my arms cradling Mollie, knowing I don’t have long. “Are you alright?” I whisper. The rubble around my feet shifts as I urge her to sit up.
“I’m fine.” She’s trembling. Her fear evident.
“Mollie, look at me, baby. I need to go see who did this. I want you to go. Get back to the clubhouse as quick as you can.” I guide her to her feet, my eyes quickly checking for any signs of blood. There’s none.
“What?”
The dust is clearing. My eyes look back seeing the driver and another man looking through the crowds. Fuck! “No time for questions. Get them out,” I lift my chin to a family screaming and crying, “then get yourself to the clubhouse. Mollie?” I give her arms a little shake. “Mollie! God damn it are you listening?”
“What are you going to do?”
I’m guiding her to the family, taking her face in my hands. “I need to see who they are. Go. Now!” I don’t give her time to argue with me any further, physically pushing her away.
She looks back, and I nod my head, before turning and seeing the two men.
They see me, both stalking closer.
I hear a door close in the distance, and I know Mollie’s gotten out.
Spotting a baseball bat in the guy to my left’s hand, I internally shudder. That’s going to hurt. Still, I say, “You can’t park there.”
He swings, and I brace myself. The thud cracks the side of my ribs, the blow bowing my body in the middle. I grind my teeth, then the other one swings his boot, catching me on the jaw. I hit the ground, stars dancing wildly. Rolling to my back, that’s the worst thing I could have done. Another blow with the bat to my gut, and my body starts convulsing. I choke. Gag. Retch. The air’s unable to go in my lungs.
“Good job we were passing. Might have missed you otherwise.” I can’t see anyone. I can only hear his Scottish accent. It’s thick. Heavy. “Now where’s my man?”
Who? I try to roll my eyes open, only managing a fraction. “Wakey, wakey.” He slaps the side of my face. “I asked you a fucking question. Nathan’s nephew. Where is he?”
“Who?” I manage to ask, my voice virtually non-existent. I don’t know anyone called Nathan.
“He’s a joker,” the other man says, striking his foot into my already, presumably broken, ribs.
I grimace, not anticipating it. “He was in here with a girl. Go. Find her. She can’t have got far.”
No!
The man who isn’t the Scot, stands to full height.
I reach my hand out, making him stop. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I’m sure as shit not letting them get their hands on Mollie. They’d have to kill me first. “Wait.”
“He remembered something,” the Scottish man says. I’m dragged to sit, which is no mean feat given I’m a dead weight.
Blood pools in the corner of my mouth. I spit it to the floor, my eyes trying to open.
“Speak. Where is he?”
I have to risk it. “He didn’t show when I was meant to meet him.” Lies.
The Scot looks confused. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I tried reaching out, but he hasn’t replied.” Jesus, my fucking heart is racing. I take a steadying breath. Thinking. Biding my time with these cunts.
“You called him?”
I shake my head.
“Message?”
I shake my head again. Shit. Shit. Shit .
“You went through his friend?”
I nod, knowing the longer I keep them in here the less likely they are to follow through on their threat to go after Mollie.
“What did Sparky say?”
Fuck. Sparky? What in the actual living fuck is going on here? Then it clicks. They’re after Elvis. The stupid twat who showed up to our reccy with Sparky. The lies will flow a little easier now because I have been looking for him ever since that night. Another click in my brain. This has something to do with money or drugs, and everything to do with Dean.
I know it.
Spitting more blood, I lick my lip clean. “Sparky hasn’t seen him either. I’ve looked everywhere, including with other suppliers. He’s been a no show.”
“Kid owes a lot of money.”
I fucking bet.
He crouches next to me. “You’re going to get it for us.”
Come again . “I am?”
He hits me in the jaw, but I manage to gather myself pretty quickly this time.
“The club owes Nathan fifty thousand.”
I hide the gulp I want to take. “How’d you figure that?” This guy’s starting to piss me off.
“We know he was last seen with someone from your club.”
I can’t help the look of irritation that consumes me. “How do you know it wasn’t a Sodom Saviour, or any one of the other clubs in this country?”
He half smiles. “We know it was one of you. We managed to get a sit down with Sonny.”
Fucking hell.
“ He informed us of how you and the other biker buddies hate one another. Given that we already know Sparky doesn’t exactly like his cousins that are tied to the Saviours, our money’s on it being you bastards that saw Elvis last.”
I can’t help myself. “What if he just left the building?”
“Cunt.” I’m hit and find myself back on the floor, but I scan my eyes around the restaurant. No cameras. Good.
“We gotta go!” The non-Scot says .
I smile, blood seeping between my teeth hearing the distance wail of sirens.
“Make sure you get his money!” Scotty says, standing to his feet about to leave.
I don’t think so. I reach for the inner pocket of my cut. I grab my flick knife and swing my arm, slashing him across his Achillies.
He crumbles, and I drag myself to my feet. “Wait.”
The other one turns as I jab my knife in his thigh. I have them both at my mercy. “Who’s Nathan?” I ask the pair of squealing pigs on the floor. Neither of them answer me. Not surprisingly. “Fine.”
I make a quick a decision knowing I don’t have the time to fuck about. Kill them and it’s double murder. Let them live, and they come back for more or worse, they talk. Dean left me no choice. I swipe the blade across both their throats then run as fast as I can to my bike. Sloppy, yes. But I just look like a man who’s simply fleeing the carnage of two mad men.
Who am I kidding? I’m about as incon-fucking-spicuous as a virgin showing up to a whore house. I’m just a lucky son of a bitch who gets away unnoticed. All eyes that are out here are busy looking at the van that’s now caught fire in the restaurant window.
When I make it to the clubhouse, my body has truly started aching. Adrenaline has subsided, making way for an onslaught of pain. I swing my leg off my bike then head inside, one hand clutching my ribs.
There’s only one thing on my mind.
When the door opens, my racing heart settles.
She made it. Sat with Rocco, her face is like thunder. I know I’m going to feel the full weight of her emotions, but I simply do not care. She runs over, throwing her arms around my neck.
“Ouch, baby.” I slide my hand around her back, taking a step back but holding her close, wincing as a fresh stab of pain slices through me.
“You’re hurt.”
I bury my head in her neck, pain thrumming through my veins. “You should see the other guys,” I say fleetingly, but it doesn’t get past her.
She pulls back slowly. I can see the anger rushing through her mind as she pieces what I’m saying together. A slow understanding of the heinous act I committed. Twice. She wants to hit me. Maybe she will. “Don’t ever tell me to leave you like that again.” She tugs my leather to make sure I’m listening.
I can’t keep that promise. So I don’t. I pull her back into me, then kiss her head. “I need to go see Rocco. Stay down here. We’ll be leaving as soon as I’m done.” I give him a nod of my head, and he stands, slowly making his way over.
“Okay.” She steps back, one hand she holds to her chest, the other on her hip. She’s in shock.
“Hey.”
She looks at me with unsure eyes.
“This is the other part of my chaos, baby.” It’s not a plea for her to choose, nor an invitation for her to decide if she still wants in. This is me telling her that now she’s with me, this is a part of her life, too. It’s ride or die. I don’t want her near anything that could hurt her, but if anyone can fucking handle it, I know with every part of me it’s the woman holding my gaze.
“I know.”
Heart kicking, I see nothing but irrevocable love looking back at me.
Turning, I gingerly follow Rocco upstairs. We take our seats at the table, the door closed for privacy. Just us. “Why are you not calling everyone else up here?” I already know. Whatever secret meeting he and Dean had has everything to do with what happened to me tonight. Clearly, no one else is privy yet.
The pinching of his lips makes it obvious. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fucking breathing, if that’s what you mean.”
He blows out his cheeks. “What happened?”
I relay the story and how they knew we had seen Elvis, which leads me on to my next question. “Did you know Dean was up to something?”
“Travis—”
“No, Prez. No bullshit. They came after one of us in broad fucking daylight. I had Mollie with me. Could have been a fuck load worse had I not seen them coming.”
He frowns. “I’ve called him. He’ll be here. He can explain what’s going on.”
“So, you did know he was doing something?” I bang the table in frustration.
“Yes I fucking knew. Drop the attitude. I know what I’m doing. ”
I look up, my jaw ticking. I need a drink. “Why?”
Rocco looks up, swallowing whatever frustration with me he’s holding. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then help me to. He’s my best mate who’s been fucking gone for years. He shouldn’t be getting in this deep yet, you know that. He needs time to adjust.”
Rocco smiles, the corner of his mouth lifting before he lights a smoke, spinning the lighter between his fingers when he’s done. “He’s lucky he has you.”
“He’ll have me for life. Especially when he becomes my vice president. Ain’t no way I’ll leave his side. But I need to know what he’s up to and more importantly, why me and the guys know fuck all about it.”
He sucks on the cigarette, blowing the plume above his head. “I needed to let him have something to focus on. My actions hurt his family.”
I shake my head. Dean’s aunt’s death was a direct result of Rocco’s bad decision. The one where he retaliated for the death of thirty Rippers. “Is our business not going to be enough?”
“ Your business will be good for both of you. But I needed to know he could handle our business for the club.”
“You don’t think it’s too much for him?”
He’s quiet for the longest of moments. “Although I have no right, when he’s here, he’s my boy. Whether it’s too much or not, it’s my job to look out for him.”
I hold out my hand for the packet of smokes.
He hands it, and I light one as he continues. “I checked in on his family on Ronnie’s orders. Seeing the shit show that was his life…” He shakes his head, rubbing his chin. He’s picturing it. “You have to do whatever it takes for the ones you love to be safe. To be happy.”
I draw from the smoke in my hand, then trace my thumb across my brow, closing my eyes. The nicotine burns my already burning lungs, but it also brings a calmness that I need.
“I’m not saying what he’s done is right. But, you hear him out, you’ll understand. Then, like me, you’ll be onboard with what he has planned for this club.”
The door swings open, and we both turn seeing Dean standing at the threshold .
“Your ears must be burning,” I say.
“Why? You chatting shit about me?”
My shoulders bounce slightly with my laugh, but I flinch, feeling the pain in my chest. I turn and flick the ash into the glass tray. “Not yet.”
His face falls as he takes his seat opposite me, leaving a chair between him and Rocco. His eyes jump between us. “What happened?”
I take another inhale. “Some cunt drove his van through the restaurant me and Mollie were in. Then they did this,” I point to the cut and dried blood on my head, “before telling me we owe another cunt called Nathan fifty grand for some drugs apparently no one in this fucking charter knows anything about.”
Dean’s eyes have widened. He throws his head back, both palms covering his face.
“Wait, sorry, fifty grand for some drugs apparently no one in this fucking club knows about, except you.”
He looks at Rocco.
Rocco gives him a small nod.
I don’t miss it. “What is it, Dean?”
He’s unsure if he should tell me, but eventually he relaxes in his chair. “The kid. Elvis. I…” his voice trails.
“You killed him.”
Dean’s eyes shoot up.
“You took the drugs he wanted to show you and now we owe them money.” His face turns hard. That ice cold deadness gracing him. “They knew he’d seen us, mate. Sonny told them about our hatred for the Saviours. Once they found out Sparky isn’t exactly sympatico with them either, they put two and two together.”
“You think I killed him?”
My hand bringing the smoke to my mouth pauses. I look at Rocco. He’s looking at the table. “You didn’t? But then where is he?”
The lines on Dean’s face iron out. “You never thought to check my house?”
I look at him deadpan. “You knew I was looking for him?”
“Was pretty obvious. You asked every fucker within a ten-mile radius.”
My head falls to my balled fist. “Jesus Christ.” I lift my head. “I didn’t let them walk away from the restaurant, Dean. ”
His face is back to creased. “What?” He glances at Rocco before locking a killer gaze on me.
“I killed ‘em.”
“Jesus. And the bodies?”
Is he kidding? My eyes narrow on him. “Yeah, after they gave me a beating, I sliced their throats, picked ‘em both up, carried them out, disposed of their bodies then followed the yellow brick road all the way fucking home.”
“Enough,” Rocco snaps.
“No, not enough,” I say.
His head twists to me.
“This is all on fucking, you,” I point at Dean. “But I’m yet to hear why you’ve sent us up shit’s creek without a fucking paddle.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on the table. “Elvis’ uncle is this Nathan you heard about. He’s running a pretty big drug operation further north and south.”
“How do you know?”
He takes a breath. “Because when I did go to get rid of Elvis,” I grind my teeth, “I saw his black eye, wondered what happened. He told me he runs county lines for his uncle, distributing, collecting, all of it. He has buyers paying out by the bucket load.”
“So you’re taking it?”
“Not exactly.”
I look between them, confused. Probably still disorientated from the pain. “I don’t follow.”
“Elvis is going to take over his uncle’s business. And we’re going to help him.”
I fear I already know the answer, but I ask my question anyway. “Why?”
“Because his uncle was beating him black and blue and he wanted a change. I can give him that whilst helping the club.” His look is one of sheer disgust, anger and pain. His past is forever present.
He went back that night to the house to do whatever the fuck he was going to. But he couldn’t. He saw himself in the kid and took pity on him. “Okay. But I still don’t understand why us , though.”
Leaning forward, he links his fingers on the table. “We let Nathan think his nephew took off. He won’t give a shit about him, he’ll only care that his best roadman is no longer collecting his cash.”
“But he isn’t gone?”
He shakes his head. “No. Elvis is in possession of all the details of every buyer his uncle currently has.”
“And he’ll what? Undercut him?”
“With our help, he’ll rise to the top. One by one, we’ll take his uncle’s buyers as our own. Nathan will be left hung out to dry whilst we’re all making money off the back of him.”
“With respect,” I hold up a hand, “he’s just a kid. I feel bad he had such shit upbringing, but I’m not sure this is a good idea. Where are we getting the drugs from?”
“We’re going to take Nathan’s suppliers, too.”
I look at Rocco. “We are? Fucking hell. That could be a lot of heat to bring.”
“It’s also a lot of fucking opportunity. We need to expand and this is the best way to do it. We’ve already secured the land we need. We pull this off, and we outnumber the Sodom Saviours. We’ll have connections in the north and we can rebuild in the south.”
I get that. “But if we don’t pull it off?”
Dean taps the table then stands, pulling his smokes from his pocket. He walks to the door, my eyes following, stopping to light his smoke before he looks at me. “We could always go back to Oz.” Then he’s gone.
The silence between me and Rocco isn’t tense. Neither is it awkward. It just, is.
Stubbing out his cigarette, Rocco stands, walking towards the door. He pats my back before leaving. “Get Mollie home. Meet back here tomorrow morning.”
I stub out my cigarette, instantly hating the taste in my mouth. “Alright.” I push out my chair, turning to him.
“He’ll be okay. He has us.” He gives me a knowing look, and with that, we both head downstairs.
I hate to admit it, but if we pull this off, Saviours will rue the day they started this war between us. It’s a good fucking plan. I just hope it works.
I get Mollie back to the farm half an hour later. The ride wasn’t easy, but I took it steady. Before we head inside, I walk her to the outer grounds. I hold up the key Mick gave me earlier when we make it to the end of the path. She’s been understandably quiet since we left the clubhouse. She looks even more confused now.
Her eyes jump to and fro. “What is this?”
Gingerly, I turn her to the piece of shit barn that I’m going to make our home. I slip my arms around her waist standing behind her, resting my chin on her shoulder. “This is your last surprise. What do you think?”
“Honestly. Looks as shit as how the last surprise ended.” She turns to face me, her arms by her side still in my arms. “What’s going on? What happened earlier?” She looks mad.
I spin her around again. “What do you think of the house?” She tries to turn but I stop her, my grip tightening. “I’m going to make this our home, baby.”
“Travis.”
“Please, Mollie. Just trust me.” I know she’s tired. Fuck, I am too. But she needs to know what my intentions are. “One day, all of this will be ours.”
“Can’t wait.” She’s mocking me. Her voice is monotone.
I rest my chin on her shoulder, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. “Just, try to picture it. I’ll put a fireplace in. A huge bed—”
“—A roof.”
I give her a squeeze, realising how shit it looks now. “Yes, I can give it a roof,” I say laughing. “Maybe a new front door. Some electric.”
She turns again, and I know I’ve won her round.
“You with me, baby?”
She lifts her arms over my shoulders then looks over hers toward the house. “In the chaos?”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“Forever.”
“That’s a lifetime of chaos, Baby Doll. You sure you can handle that?”
Standing on her tiptoes, she pushes her lips to mine, kissing me gently. “Piece of cake.”