Chapter 17
I told the stars about you. - d.j
L acey
Watching Seth heal has been both heartbreaking and inspiring. Days pass and it seems like nothing changes, but then the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months. His road to recovery is slower than he wants, and his frustration breaks my heart each time he has to fight another battle when they all seem to be uphill for him.
One thing that has changed is my smart, easy-going brother is gone. In his place is a serious, usually grouchy man, who is hell bent on getting the cartel busted. Not an easy feat considering they’re a massive criminal organization and my brother was a smarty pants investor. He should’ve been working for the FBI or somewhere as equally accessible to busting people like the ones who captured him. That’s another thing, he won’t discuss what happened to him. I only know the bits Asher has shared with me and even he’s limited on what he knows. My brother won’t tell anyone what they did to him, only that he has to figure out a way to save the people they’ve hurt.
He's become friendly with Baker’s daughter, Sam. She’s his age, a successful nurse, and super nice. She’s been taking care of him and checking up on him here regularly. Whiskey’s doctor friend was stopping by weekly for the first two months, but those visits have become less frequent. She said the rest of Seth’s healing was up to him and how far he wants to take it. She recommended he see a psychiatrist regularly as well as go to a physical therapy center.
Seth has the money, and even if he didn’t, my father does, but so far, he’s refused any further help. If the nurse doesn’t work with him, he remains seated, glued to his laptop. He’s constantly researching and digging around to see if he can find anything out or remotely hurt the cartel. It’s been a lost cause for the most part so far.
Blow’s ol’ lady has probably been the best asset my brother’s had at getting any answers, as well as being able to provide some information. Asher says the motorcycle club remains out of that part, but what do I know. The Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club’s business is not mine and it’s been made very clear. It angered me at first, but I’ve come to realize it’s not personal in the slightest, it’s simply the way things are done around here. Once I was able to accept that, it didn’t offend me anymore.
“How is he today?” I ask Asher after he’s left Seth’s side.
We’re outside, soaking up the Texas sun, even though it’s the ‘ber months. In Texas it doesn’t feel like fall until November, so October is the perfect weather to chill outside and enjoy the beautiful parts of the state. I’ve lived here my entire life and have loved it to the point I can’t imagine moving elsewhere.
He shrugs, pulling me to sit between his spread thighs. One thing I’ve learned about Asher over the past few months we’ve been together is that he doesn’t like me to leave his sight and if we’re in the same room, he has to be touching me somehow. Me being able to work remotely most of the time has become one of his favorite things about my job. In the beginning, he would throw a fit, worrying over my safety each week when it came time for me to go into work, so we’ve developed a routine. Now, he takes me to work and picks me up on those days. He’ll also stop in, bringing me lunch to eat with me. He also texts several times throughout the day to check in. Between him and Seth, one of them always knows where I am. I suppose it would bother other people but after witnessing how badly Seth was hurt, I can understand their worry for my safety.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Care to elaborate?” I ask, in reference to his silent shrug.
He leans forward, wrapping his arms around my middle and presses a kiss to the side of my throat. His voice is low and gravely next to my ear as he admits, “He’s going to join the MC.”
“My brother? Seth?” I ask in shock. I mean, sure, he’s gotten close to a few of the guys, but I thought it was just born from boredom and talking when they’re in the same room…not because he wants to join them.
“He needs a way to do what he wants to do. He can’t become a Marshal. He already looked into it and physically, he wouldn’t pass the tests. Same with the FBI. Besides, he’s too jaded to go legit at this point.”
My throat grows tight, air suddenly choking me. My brother was never muscular or anything, but he was always in shape from playing sports. He could run well, not super-fast, but he was quick enough to be good at soccer. Knowing he couldn’t pass any sort of physical entry exams because of what was done to him makes my chest hurt for him. As for his head, well, I already know he’s not himself. The screams when he manages to sleep are answer enough to the hell he went through.
He survived. He’s alive. He’s still Seth.
It’s what I tell myself each day when I start to think of him as being gone. My parents, well, they never returned. They’re still somewhere in Switzerland, hiding out. I don’t blame them for not moving back as they’d most likely be murdered. I would do something different if it were my kids in the same situation, namely, not leave the country without them in the first place. If it weren’t for Asher and his brothers making me feel safe here, I’d probably have joined them in Switzerland by now.
“He needs help.”
“He’s already had it. This is the man he’s become, he had to fight to survive, and it isn’t always pretty coming out on the other side.”
I nod. He’s right. Asher may be a little dark at times, but I’ve learned for the most part, he’s a realist.
“How are you feeling today, baby?” He tenderly kisses along my jaw, spreading his hands wide over my growing belly. I think it’s huge, but he swears it’s still small.
“Good, probably a lot better than I should be.”
“Nah, you take good care of yourself. Don’t feel guilty you don’t get sick like all those mommas in the articles you read.”
“My feet sure do swell, though.” I glance down as I wiggle my toes in the men’s athletic slide on sandals. It’s embarrassing how fat and red my feet get each day, but at least Asher rubs them each night for me. “I want to name her after your mom.” I’ve been trying to find the right time to bring it up. It’s been hard, though, not wanting to send Asher spiraling from his mom’s death. He’s been working his way through the grief process. It about killed him when his mom passed, but I think the pregnancy has given him something to hope for.
“No.”
“But she was so important to you, Asher. It’s okay to honor her.”
“I know it is, but the answer’s still no. I want our daughter to be her own person with her own name.”
“If she’s anything like you, we have nothing to worry about,” I tease, as he’s bossy, dominant, and I tend to spoil him, so it makes him even worse at times. But I love him fiercely, so we find ways to compromise with each other.
“How about Sarah? It’s a sweet little girl’s name.”
I snort. “Cause she’s going to be sweet and not rotten?”
“She’s my daughter, so of course,” he says seriously, and I have to hold my laugh in. He’s going to put this little girl up on a pedestal so high she’ll do no wrong in his eyes. I already know it.
“You’re not upset to be the first daddy in the club?”
“Blow’s got a kid.”
“You know what I mean.” It’s Blow’s ol’ lady’s daughter, though you wouldn’t know it by the way he acts. He loves that little girl as if she’s his own.
“No. It’s the best thing to ever happen in my life besides you coming in it.”
“I love you,” I whisper, growing emotional over his words.
This man. He never makes me feel unloved or unwanted…not even for a moment. I always know where I stand with him and it’s holding his heart.
“Don’t cry, babe,” he grumbles, moving my hair to kiss along the back of my neck.
“You know the deal, cookies or I do what I want.”
He chuckles, pushing forward until we’re both standing. He tucks me under his arm and leads me towards his bike. “Alright, the cookie shop it is.” He digs in his saddlebag and then leads us to my car.
“We should go for a ride, the weather’s perfect.”
“We will in about five more months.”
“Ugh, you’re no fun sometimes,” I grumble as he holds my door. He leans in, buckling my seatbelt, then carefully closes the passenger door.
He climbs behind the wheel, strapping himself in. I tried to reach over and buckle him in the first time he did it to me, and he’d looked at me like I was on crack. I figured if he could do it, so could I. Needless to say, it was a lecture I didn’t need to have for the next twenty minutes while he’d drove me to work in my own car about how it was his job to keep me safe and mine to keep me safe too, not to worry over him. Silly man.
“Told ya’, Jailbait. Not gonna do anything that could hurt you or my kid. Gotta keep you two safe and sound.”
“Well, your kid enjoys your motorcycle.” So do I, but I’m laying it on thick right now with the guilt.
“See, Daddy’s girl already. Now, you just relax that seat back and keep your blood pressure down.”
I roll my eyes. One high blood pressure reading and suddenly it’s a thing he’s worried about. I don’t know if I was even pregnant then and my brother had just been able to stand up on after resting his injuries. He’d fallen and screamed so loudly I’d had a minor panic attack, thinking he’d seriously reinjured himself. My blood pressure was high and I’ve never lived it down since. “Why five months?”
“Gives you time to have her and heal enough to have you back there without it hurting.”
“Okay…”
“Plus, I’m pretty sure the first time you’re on the back of my bike wearing my property patch I’m gonna have to pull over somewhere and fuck you, so you need to be healed enough to take my cock.”
My brows skyrocket. This is news to me, and suddenly I’m wanting him to pull over right now just imagining it. Reaching for him, I get his button unsnapped one handed, and dip my fingers inside his jeans. He passes through the gate, nodding to the prospect as I pull his cock out and begin to stroke.
“Fuck,” he hisses, biting into his lower lip as he attempts to drive while I jerk his glorious cock. I’ve never been a fan of penises, but geezus, this man has a pretty dick with silver balls studded throughout. Makes me want to hop on and pretend I’m a cowgirl. “You’re so bad,” he growls.
“But?”
“But, so fucking good.”
I grin. “Only for you,” I promise and mean every word.
“I love you, Lacey, fuck, do I love you.”
“With your whole heart?”
“Every toxic beat, baby doll, it belongs to you.”