Chapter Four.
Allegra
A week had passed since I’d met Shotgun, and we’d gone for a meal, which had resulted in conversation mainly around triads and their dynamic. There’d been a lot to absorb. It was enough to make anyone run for the hills, but maybe I was stupid for considering everything.
Shotgun had been as open and honest as possible.
He told me about the dramas that he’d experienced with Hellfire MC’s old ladies.
Not a single one seemed to be able to fall in love without some incident.
It was crazy. There was a war brewing with a rival club, the Venomous Fangs.
It went without saying that I wanted no part of that shit.
Plus, the fact that neither Shotgun nor Rain were ‘out’ despite claiming that they had loving families. That suggested trouble for the future if two parties were hiding what they were. Anyone else would have run by now, so why wasn’t I?
Because, like a fool, I was curious. How would this work?
Clearly, Shotgun and Rain were lovers. Would we take turns as a pair to make love or a full-on ménage à trois?
Would sometimes one of them bow out, and then I’d do the same?
Or perhaps they’d want me to watch. The whole thing was proving a definite curiosity.
Like almost everyone, I’d fantasised about a threesome.
Hell, most men have for certain. But this was more than that.
What about children? Despite my own shitty childhood—shunted off to one side with nannies and ignored—I wanted babies.
How would that happen? Potluck, the fastest swimmer knocks me up?
So many questions, and the internet didn’t give definite answers.
The one thing I wasn’t worried about was my cousins and grandparents.
They would accept whatever I chose because they’d want me to be happy.
Well, my parents wouldn’t; I’d be disowned like Aubrey.
But who cared? We weren’t close to our parents anyway.
Shotgun had agreed to give me time, and I guessed I needed answers to those questions. I picked up the phone and checked my surroundings. I was sitting in a local park near where I volunteered, and there was no one nearby.
“You got Shotgun,” his rich voice answered the call.
“Hey, it’s me,” I stated and paused.
“Allegra. How are you?” Shotgun inquired, and I smiled.
“Nosy. I’ve a lot of questions.”
“More than the other day?” Shotgun teased, and I laughed. I’d grilled him over dinner.
“Yes, if you can believe it.”
“Somehow I can,” Shotgun said with a laugh. “Where are you now?”
“In a park. Just watching the ducks and thinking about stuff.”
“Text me the address; I’ll bring lunch,” Shotgun offered.
“That would be great.”
“Anything you don’t eat?”
“Tomato and salmon,” I replied, and Shotgun chuckled.
“See you soon,” he promised and cut the call.
It was probably exceedingly wrong, but I was really looking forward to seeing Shotgun again.
Usually, bikers were portrayed as slobs with huge beer bellies, long, unkempt beards, and jeans hanging down their asses.
Shotgun was the antithesis of this. Tall, well-built, handsome, and with a closely cropped goatee.
The man should also be a butt model because he filled them out perfectly.
I was laughing at a momma duck telling some chicks off when I heard a bike.
The exhaust was so loud that no one could miss it.
A smile crossed my lips because that had to be Shotgun.
The noise ended, and minutes later, a tall figure appeared in the sunlight, casting a shadow.
Shotgun sat beside me and placed a bag between us. He smiled as he took me in.
“Volunteering again today?”
“Yes. But, hey, no food!” I exclaimed, pointing down at my clothes. I was wearing jeans and an old tee.
Shotgun opened the bag. “What’s your paying job?”
“I’m a photographer,” I replied, and Shotgun paused.
“Really?”
“Yup. I’ve had photos in the National Geographic, National Wildlife, and the Smithsonian. I’m quite recognised for my nature pictures. I also release some prints every year, not often and in a series, and that drives demand for my work up.”
“Ah, very clever.”
“Yes. I’m due to go to Zimbabwe for six weeks soon.
I’m shooting the African Wild Dog, or Painted Dog, as they’re better known.
A team’s going out; they’re microchipping them so they can be tracked and, hopefully, the litters saved.
There’s only about six thousand left now, and their numbers are dwindling quickly. ”
“Wow. Beauty and brains. Do you travel a lot?” Shotgun asked.
“A few times a year, and usually for over four weeks per trip, not the same places obviously. I’m heading to Zimbabwe to take detailed pictures of those that are chipped. That way, in addition to the chip, we can have photo identification. Everything helps.”
“Colour me impressed,” Shotgun said. It was a balm to my confidence.
“And you make belts and things?”
“My pops taught me. Pops was a genius with designs and working with leather. I handle suede and other skins. And all mine come from natural deaths, or from farming meat, not a single poached skin amongst them,” he quipped, and I laughed.
Shotgun joked, but that meant a lot that he wanted to reassure me. “Also do taxidermy, although it’s not my favourite thing. But seeing people happy they have their pet for life, yeah, that counts.”
“Those things are freaking creepy.”
“What questions did you have?” Shotgun asked as he passed me a sandwich.
“Children. Would you like some?”
“Fuck yes. Rain and I both do. Don’t care who the biological father is, because we’d bring the kid up between us. That’s part and parcel of being a family. Do you want kids?”
“Yup, and I’ll ensure they have a better life than my cousins, Thatch and I.”
“You were abused?” Shotgun ground out and straightened.
Damn, that was hot! “Physically and mentally, no. Emotionally, yes. Maybe I should give you a little background. Gramps and Nana are working-class people who created an empire. But they stayed grounded. They had four sons, who became entitled snobs, along with their wives.
“We kids were left alone with nannies and au pairs. Our parents went on many vacations and so on, and we rarely saw them. They packed all of us off to boarding school and told our grandparents we didn’t want to come home.
Obviously, because if we did during school breaks, that impacted them because they had to parent us!
When Nana discovered what was happening, she threatened to sell their prized possessions: the yachts, ski cabins, everything. ”
“Even though they weren’t in her name?” Shotgun asked.
“Yup. Because she’d have sacked my dad and uncles, and they’d have had to sell to maintain their lifestyle.
In return for not forcing this, Nana and Gramps demanded we attend day school and go home during the week.
However, from Friday night to Monday morning, they would have us, and for every single vacation, including Christmas.
” I took a deep breath. It was never easy admitting you weren’t wanted.
“And they just handed you all over?” Shotgun sounded incredulous.
“Yeah. Weird, isn’t it? Some families get one selfish asshole; somehow, Gramps and Nana ended up with four. Although they do state that we grandkids came out normal.” I chuckled.
“Don’t do that. Don’t downplay the hurt,” Shotgun said.
“I’m not. I’m past caring about what anyone thinks or says.
We got lucky with Gramps and Nana. And I think Dad and the uncles are about to realise what assholes they’ve been, if they’re capable of that, that is.
At Gramps’s birthday dinner the other month, he took control of the company from them and handed it to my brother and cousins.
“My uncles and Dad are now kicking their heels. Last week, they realised they weren’t getting their generous wage for doing shit anymore. Plus, access to their trust funds has been cut off. Nana and Gramps have had enough. What they did to Aubrey was Gramps and Nana’s line in the sand.”
“Aubrey?” Shotgun asked.
“Madam Mischief.”
“Ah.”
“So, you’ve got your baggage, I’ve got mine. But the one thing I won’t do with my family is hide a relationship. You and Rain may not be out around your families, but it’s not acceptable to keep this a secret from mine. That’s a no-go,” I stated firmly.
“Won’t they judge?”
“Nope. A couple might even be jealous.”
Shotgun laughed. “You’re telling me nobody would say anything?” he sounded disbelieving.
“Shotgun, you expect judgement. But my family never throws shade on somebody because those who should have protected us have done it to us. Think what you will. But if we’re going to consider a relationship, you need to learn to trust.”
Shotgun studied my face as he ate his sandwich.
“Three times Rain and I thought we might have found someone. The last time we really believed she was committed. Rowena. Turns out Rowena just wanted to be fuck buddies, and Rain and I were a shameful secret. There’s a reason I ain’t trusting, Allegra. ”
“I get that. But you’re going to have to start somewhere.”
“True. But that will take time.”
“Will we live together?” I asked next, and Shotgun nodded.
“Yeah, and probably in the Hellfire compound if they accept me. If they don’t, then we’ll go elsewhere.”
“And sleeping arrangements?” I inquired, blushing slightly.
“Same bed, unless one of us really needs a break. You’d better get used to being a sandwich. But most husbands and wives sleep together; we’d be no different.”
“Date nights?”
“Rain and I discussed this. We think we should have a couple’s date night once a week. One week, you and I, the following week, you and Rain, the week after Rain and me, and then all three of us. That gives everyone quality time and ensures no one is being overlooked.”
“And sex?” My blush deepened, and Shotgun grinned.
“Lots of it,” he teased, and I laughed.