Chapter Fourteen #3
Marigold shakes her head, her eyes going cold.
“No cops. They wouldn’t have done anything because of who he was.
It would have been me they came after.” Her fingers instinctively curl around the necklace she never takes off.
“It was just their physical bodies left in that house. My Mama and Papa were already gone. They made me promise the last time I was able to sneak a word with them that I’d run and never look back.
” She shrugs, a casual movement that betrays years of looking over her shoulder.
“I’ve been running for six years. Until now. ”
“Why now?” I ask, my thumb trailing over the delicate skin of her ankle.
“Because you finally caught me,” she replies. She’s beaming again, looking happy and proud, as if being trapped by an outlaw biker is the greatest achievement of her life.
“You’re mine now,” I clarify, the growl in my chest vibrating through my whole body.
I grab a handful of her hoodie and yank her toward me until she’s forced to close the gap.
Marigold falls against me, her hands splayed against my chest to catch her momentum. She stares at me for a long beat before she finally whispers, “Yes.”
“Why do you believe Damon is still alive?”
“Mostly just my gut, but there have been signs over the years. Little things only I would know the meaning behind. Every time I saw one, I’d run again. Eventually, I just went back to my real name. It didn’t matter if I used an alias or not. I knew he’d find me eventually.”
“Has something happened since you’ve been in Coral Cay?”
“Probably.” She tilts her head, thinking.
“One day, I was sure someone was trailing me through town.
I didn't catch anyone, though. Then there were the crushed marigolds left on my porch. Oh.” She snaps her fingers, her eyes widening.
“And that day you dropped me off? The flower pot on my porch had been moved.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me any of this?”
Marigold scoffs, leaning back so she can glare at me with all that fire in her eyes. “Oh, sure. I should have just walked right up to you while you were shoving your sausage link into some woman’s beef canal and mentioned that a flower pot moved on my porch.”
I don’t find it as funny as her, apparently.
I grip her chin between my fingers, my grip firm enough to keep her from looking away.
“Yes. That’s exactly what you should have done.
You’re the only woman who has ever been important to me, Marigold.
I don’t give a flying fuck if I was balls deep, if you needed me, I’d have been there without hesitation. ”
She pulls back just enough to level a glare at me that has real heat in it.
"Yeah? And how exactly was I supposed to know that, Sir?
" Her voice has an edge now. "You plowed your way through this entire city.
Nothing says you're the most important thing to me like riding the rodeo circuit on half the population. "
“I’m sorry if that hurt you, but we’ve never been together until now. You can hold it against me and I’ll continue to show you that you’re all that matters, but I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She sags against me, her lower lip out in a full-blown pout. “I know. But it makes me so ragey.”
I chuckle, the sound vibrating in my chest as I brush my lips against her nose. “Should have claimed me sooner, baby.”
“I know,” she repeats, stressing the words like they’re a penance.
I let her have a moment before I say it. "We need to tell the club about the stalking. They already know someone breached our security. They need the full picture. I can’t let them keep hunting a ghost that’s sitting on my lap."
Her eyes go wide turning into vast pools of sudden, sharp terror. She scrambles out of my lap, the retreat so fast it leaves me feeling cold.
Fucking again.
“I can’t. We can’t. Please, Axton... don't make me.”
The whimpering sound she makes eats me alive. I climb to my feet, my nakedness forgotten in the face of her panic. “Baby, talk to me. Look at me.”
"If we tell them they'll be angry. They'll ban me." Her voice is unraveling at the edges, her hands moving to find her pants from the floor, shoving her legs in with shaking fingers. "I'll lose them. I'll lose you. You're all the family I have left. I can't. I can't lose anyone else."
“Stop. Marigold, stop.” I snatch her shaking hands, pinning them to still her. “Look at me.”
She keeps shaking her head, and as the tears spill from those broken eyes, I see the ghosts of her parents standing right behind her. She’s not just scared of the club. She’s terrified that belonging to something means eventually watching it burn.
Motherfucker.
I pull her in and wrap around her completely. Her whole body trembles against mine, this fierce, feral, impossible woman trying so hard to hold her own terror in with both hands, and I just hold her tighter and let her shake.
"Shh. I've got you. I've got you. You're not losing anyone.
I won't let that happen. You hear me? Not a single person.
I've got you, baby." I repeat it like a mantra, a low, steady rumble in her ear until the shaking slows and her breathing finally evens out. Her arms finally come around my waist, hugging me back with a desperate, crushing strength. “Good girl. Keep taking deep, even breaths. You’re doing so good.”
Marigold leans her head back, peering up at me through wet lashes. “You promise?”
"You're not losing anyone else." I hold her gaze so she can see I mean every syllable. "Not one person. You hear me?"
She searches my face for a long, quiet beat, looking for the crack in the foundation.
When she finds nothing but iron, she nods.
She pulls away, straightening her shoulders and wiping her face with the back of her hand.
Something resolute moves into her expression, like a door closing on the panic and a different one opening.
"Okay. Yeah. Let's go." She smooths herself out with the efficiency of someone who has survived much worse and knows it. "They need to know their security is embarrassingly porous anyway. We need it fixed before whoever else is stalking you starts getting ideas about taking you from me."
She marches out of the room before I can even process the bombshell she just dropped.
Whoever else is stalking me? I scramble to get dressed, shoving my legs into my jeans and slinging my kutte over my shoulder. I’m out the door a second later, rushing through the club to catch up to the little troublemaker.
The floor is empty now. The music is off, the harsh work-lights are up, and there is my woman, perched on top of the bar, chatting to Candy like they’ve been best friends for a decade.
“That thing you do with the pole? Ten out of ten, babes,” Marigold is saying, her hands gesturing wildly.
“You’re going to have to show me how to do that sometime.
I bet I could totally make that pole my bitch.
” She props her chin in her hand, genuinely considering.
“Do you think I’d make good money up there? ”
Candy is leaning against the bar, smiling indulgently. “Yeah, girl. You’d close the place down.”
“Hell yeah. Where’s the manager? I need to get put on the books.”
I march over, not saying a word. I wrap an arm around her waist, lift her off the bar, and throw her over my shoulder like a sack of grain before pivoting toward the exit.
“Tell the manager to call me,” Marigold shouts back at the empty club just as we hit the cool night air.
I drop her on her feet next to her bike. I’m vibrating with a new kind of possessive heat. “The only person seeing how you work a fucking pole is me.”
She bounces on her heels, beaming up at me as if she hasn't just been crying her eyes out five minutes ago. “Wait. You mean I can do the fucky-fucky thing to the pole for you? Hells yeah. It’s going to cost you, though. A girl’s gotta eat dinner, you know.”
I look at her—this beautiful, chaotic, murderous ray of sunshine—and feel the last of my heart surrender. “Get your ass on that bike and get to the clubhouse, brat.”
Marigold snaps a sharp salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” Then she flashes me a wide, wicked grin. “Race you there.”
She’s on the bike and roaring out of the lot before I can even swing a leg over mine.
Fucking hell. This woman is going to be the absolute death of me.