Chapter 19
Vex
“Daddy, is Momma OK?” Bree asks around her mouthful of lasagne.
I run a hand over her hair before dropping a kiss to the top of her head, then Addy’s. “Momma is fine, she just wanted to go get some air with your Aunt Joe.”
I smile at the girls but I don’t miss the look they share. “She had the sad smile on,” Addy whispers.
“The sad smile?”
“The smile moms do when they’re sad or scared but don’t want us to be sad or scared,” Bree says, pushing her food around on her plate with her fork. “Our Mommy used to do that all the time.”
“But we knew she was sad. She was just trying to be brave. Like Momma tonight.”
“Aw, babies. Your momma is brave and tough, but sometimes bad memories come back and make her a bit sad.”
“So it’s not a bad man coming to hurt her?”
It dawns on me why the girls are so jittery and clingy to me over dinner.
They’ve seen the body language before. They’ve seen the absolute worst that can happen and I have no doubt that their mother tried to shield them from as much of the bad as she could, but these are clever little girls.
Seeing Loyal’s behavior after Goodson had her cornered would have brought their trauma front and center.
“Look at me, girls.” Their blue gazes find mine.
“You are safe and you are loved here. You have a Daddy and a Momma and a building full of big scary uncles who love you very much and will do everything to make sure you are safe and happy. We protect our family and you are family. Do you understand?”
They nod their little heads before both dropping their forks on their plates and launching themselves into my lap. I wrap my arms around them, close my eyes and breathe in their bubblegum shampoo smell and rock them a little.
“Can we stay forever?” Addy whispers.
“Of course, baby. You’re ours now.”
When I open my eyes it’s to meet the warm dark eyes of Mama Debs, leaning on the counter in the kitchen with a soft smile on her face.
“Fatherhood suits you.”
The twins spin at the sounds of Mama Debs’ accented voice and they ditch me like yesterday’s news to throw themselves into her arms, talking a mile a minute about staying here and their momma and daddy. She runs her hands over their heads, tipping her chin to the door.
“The big manly men are next door talking plans, you better go join in the grunting.” She smirks.
“What about-”
“Girls, do you want to bake some cookies and pies with me?” The answering squeal and fist pumps answer that question. “Sage and the big littles will be in soon with the babies. I’ve got this, you go ahead.”
Knowing my girls are safe and sound with Mama Debs has me moving through the common room, right into the path of Fox and Nitro.
“Good to see you, brother,” Fox says, whacking me a little harder than necessary on the back. “How are our girls?”
Grinning, “Our girls are tough little things. We’ve had a couple of wobbles, but they’re doing good. Check them out yourself,” I push through one of the swing doors, giving Fox and Nitro a little peek at the girls who are singing something to Mama Debs as they gather the ingredients she’ll need.
“Well, fuck. Look at that,” Nitro whispers, a soft look on his face as he rests his temple on Fox’s.
I know what they’re seeing. Not the two scared kids they pulled out of a closet, but two little girls with long happy lives ahead of them. Even happier still when their monster is put in the ground.
“They’re gonna be fine,” Fox whispers, pressing a kiss to Nitro’s head.
“Yeah, they are,” I reply.
“Thanks to you and your woman,” Nitro says, turning to look at me. “Where is she?”
Looking around the common room I don’t see her or Joe. The DRMC men are busy catching up, and some of these fuckers are big enough to block Loyal from my view. Frowning, I move further into the room. They should have been back by now.
“Has anyone seen Loyal or Joe?”
Justice’s brows pull low. “They said they were heading outside for some air.”
“I didn’t see either of them when I was outside,” Switch says.
“Fuck!” Panic starts to claw at my throat, and I spin in place, trying to think of the places she could be.
“Chewy!” Rhodie barks, his phone in hand. “Where the hell are you?”
“Hmmm,” Chewy’s voice is loud on the speaker, “we’re with our friends.”
“Outside? Are you outside with Loyal?” I ask, shoving past Judge who mean mugs me.
“Noooooo.” There is odd grunting on the line and some muffled voices.
“Chewy?” Rhodie growls and I know that this can go one of two ways. Chewy will continue to act dumb, or she’ll panic and get verbal diarrhea.
“Fuck, where’s Pops?” Marx asks, running a hand down his face.
“Chewy!”
“Alright, keep your hair on! We’re visiting the gators. Chomper wanted to see his people.” Chewy answers before hanging up.
“They’re in the gator house,” Omen groans.
“Well, that can’t be too bad,” Wire says.
“It’s where we’re keeping Hitchens.”
“Motherfucker.”
We all move as one, reaching the doorway at the same time, all of us trapped behind Judge and Tank who thought they’d both fit their giant asses through the door at the same time.
“Move your fat asses!” Rhodie roars, shoving Tank out the door.
We pile out of the clubhouse, everyone mounting their bikes for the short ride to our gator house.
If it were just Loyal and Joe, I’d be OK with them being in there.
I mean, Loyal is gentle and kind and from what I know of Joe, that woman is pure light.
Now that I know where they are, I’m not worried about those two.
No, the ones I worry about are the Girl Gang and what terrible things they’ll be exposing my woman to.
We ride en masse, the roar of our bikes echoing through the damp Louisiana air. By the time we arrive at the gator house we’re met with Mira, Kaia and Jasmine at the door.
“Oh hey! Fancy seeing you all here,” Mira beams, waving big.
“Baby, I love you, but you’re shit at stalling,” Tank says, dropping a kiss to her cheek.
“Hey! I haven’t even started stalling!”
“Ladies, move your sweet asses,” Marx growls.
He moves to walk through the door and Kaia moves in the same direction. When he dodges left Jasmine smiles wide at him, right in his way.
“Brothers, control your women!”
“Hey!” Jasmine argues as Nitro picks her up and moves her out the way.
By the time we make our way into the main gator room all the Girl Gang are standing around looking innocent. Even my woman who gives me a shy smile.
“Anyone care to explain what’s going on here?” Marx says, hands on hips as he eyeballs the Girl Gang.
“We were just visiting with Hitchens. You know, nothing too serious.” Nat smiles innocently.
I lean to the side to peer around Marx’s bulk.
When we strapped Hitchens to the chair he was pretty untouched.
Well, apart from where Damian had knocked him out.
Now the man has a broken nose, his shirt has been cut off and I can see Lovely’s knife work across his chest over the top of some dark purple bruising which seem to be coloring his skin.
He has a bruise at his temple, swollen lips and I can’t be too sure but I think he may be missing some teeth.
He’s also jumping at every movement, his eyes darting around, breathing shallow like he’s crawling out of his skin.
Marx narrows his eyes at the women, staring at them, one by one. His gaze lands on Loyal, and instead of shrinking back under the gaze of the DRMC President, Loyal pulls her shoulders back, chin up. The only tell that she’s nervous at his gaze is the fact that her hand is gripping Joe’s.
“Right. So what happened to him?” Marx asks, jerking his chin in Hitchens directions.
“We found him like that?” Remy says, her voice pitching up at the end as if she’s asking us rather than telling us.
Switch steps forward, a frown on his face as Hitchens starts screaming, eyes wide as saucers. His large fingers find Hitchens’ pulse and he spins to look at us in surprise. “He’s tachycardic.” His gaze finds Chewy’s. “What did you give him?”
“I didn’t give him anything. He was like that when we found him,” Chewy answers in her robot voice.
Loyal’s eyes dart to Joe’s, but Joe looks at Hitchens serenely, a small smile playing on her lips as she fingers the pendant at her throat.
“Joe?” I ask, stepping forward.
Her dark eyes meet mine, and she shrugs. “We gave him some water out of that bottle, and some herbs to help him see the error of his ways.”
“Which bottle?” Saint asks suspiciously.
“The one that was on the table over there,” Loyal says, pointing to the table off to the side, the one where we keep our antibiotics.
“Was it a blue one with a busted lid?” Omen says, trying to contain his laughter.
“Yeah! That’s the one.”
Saint and Omen burst into fits of laughter as we stand there and watch them lose their shit.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod,” Omen hoots. “That’s the bottle Saint pissed in because he couldn’t be bothered walking outside. Aw shit.”
Loyal and Joe both look disgusted, Hitchens starts to sob and the rest of us burst into laughter with them.
“Fuck it, who cares if he’s tachycardic, fucker is gonna die soon anyway,” Switch says in his loud as shit voice.
Hitchens starts screaming again, fighting against his restraints, the tendons in his neck clearly visible as the man starts hyperventilating.
“So, what did you say were in those herbs?” Chewy asks, eyeing Joe.
“She’ll never tell you, Dayz,” Pops says, jumping down from a ladder off to the side.
“What the hell were you doing up there?” Rhodie asks, confused as hell.
“I was tormenting.” Pops says casually.
“Tormenting?”
“Hitchens. It seems his mind has gone all loosey goosey. Fucker is jumping at shadows.”
“And the herbs did it?” Rhodie frowns, looking between his woman and her grandfather. If he’s anything like me, he’ll be confused as hell. I have no idea what Joe’s herbs and Hitchens’ breakdown have to do with anything.