Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Lore
Marie jumps the fence without an issue, while I curse every god I can name as my stitches pull. Ransom is gonna kick my ass if I fuck up his hard work. The threat doesn’t keep me from doing what I need to, and I’m through the back door with my girl fairly quickly.
I deal with the alarm by turning it on silent as I lock the door behind me, and drag Marie to the living room. She’s breathing a little hard despite how easy she makes breaking and entering appear.
Though…
“I need you to know something,” I whisper into her ear.
I can hear the motorcycles out front, and know my time alone with my omega is limited.
I left my bike in the street behind the house to give myself some extra time to shore up my strength.
Devon and I have always been ride or die, and my decision to stay dead while I had one foot in the grave may not sit well with him.
“Hmm,” Marie murmurs, leaning against my body. The days are getting colder, and she doesn’t have warm enough clothing. I need to start putting together a winter closet with the guys for her.
“This house is in your name,” I confess. “Storm did it after your heat. We know you need security. If you wanted to drive away, you can. If something happens, you have—”
“Stop,” she rasps. “You can’t ever leave me. I will die. The bond sickness may be the strongest with you, but I wouldn’t survive if any of you left.”
“Never,” I promise her. “I need you to know we can provide for you. I don’t want you to kill yourself at work anymore. Take shifts because you want to, not because of this frenetic fear that says you have to provide for yourself. Have you checked your bank account recently?”
“Ah, yes,” she admits. “There’s money in my account, I just have this irrational fear that I need to build up a nest egg.”
“I’ll add you to the pack account,” I decide. “We are your nest egg. You know how smart Storm is. I promise, you’re well covered. Only work when you want, okay?”
“Thank you,” she sighs. “There’s a fear still after being fired from my job in Chicago. I’ve always relied on myself. It’s very difficult to remember that I may have people to lean on.”
“May? Fuck that. We are the backbone of your support team. One day, you’ll even believe that.”
“Why the hell did you drag me all the way back to Minnesota?” Devon groans in the front hallway.
The bubble around Marie and I pops, and she squeezes my leg before stripping off her coat.
“Give me a gun, Lore,” she says softly. “I won’t have time to get mine.”
Leaning over to pull the gun velcroed underneath the table beside the couch, I hand it to her.
I watch as she pulls her holster from beneath a cushion and straps it to her thigh.
My cock is very interested in how capable she is with a firearm, though she needs a few kinds of holsters depending on her outfit.
Life can change on a dime, especially on the day you decide to wear a dress and look adorable.
Though I haven’t ever worn a dress and no one can call my huge ass adorable, I want Marie not to worry about these things. I’ll ask Storm to do some research on options.
The market is always changing for weapons and their accessories. There have to be ways to hide her weapons so that she has the element of surprise. For now, we’ll work with what we have.
I’m sure this is on my pack’s radar, but we’ve had a lot of shit that keeps being thrown at us. It’s difficult to do things like present your omega with pretty weapons of destruction when you’re also being fucked with a rusty pole by life.
“Don’t get in the middle of this unless you feel it’s absolutely necessary,” I grunt, standing.
“Don’t be a dickhead,” she replies, following my lead.
Fuck, I love this woman. I can’t promise not to be an ass, so I simply wait for my brother to be led through the house, grumbling about how annoying it is that they won’t tell him why he’s here alone without his core MC members.
“Hey, little brother,” I say, smirking as he stops dead in his footsteps. “Things are a little weird at the moment, so you’ll have to forgive the cloak and dagger, yeah?”
“Lore…” The gun is pulled as if it’s as easy as breathing, and for someone that attempts to avoid conflict, it’s impressive. Devon’s face is devoid of emotion outside of awe and a bit of fear. “Storm, did you bring home another wraith?”
“If he did, then the wraith can fuck like a god,” Ransom snorts. “Storm, is his cock any bigger than it was before?”
“I’m not gonna answer that. His ego is already big enough,” Storm grumbles, making my lips twitch.
Realizing I’m still wearing the neck gaiter, I yank it down, watching as my brother’s face moves through different emotions. Disbelief, grief so intense it makes me weave on my feet, and anger.
Yeah, I figured that’s the one he’d land on.
The idiot pulls the trigger just as I leap out of the way. Thankfully, Marie is able to avoid my body so I don’t take her out, and she rolls her eyes as she pulls her weapon. I’m scrambling off the ground as Marie steps in front of me with her small frame, and Ransom’s eyes widen in concern.
My pack is too far to pull her out of the way, and her finger is on the trigger, fully committed to shooting my brother if necessary. It’s not like I haven’t shot at him before, but we were younger and drunk as fuck so we didn’t hit anything but rocks. This time it’s different.
Fuck, Marie is different. She’s not going to take my brother’s shit, just because he’s grieving. I know about how he’s treated my omega, and I fully plan to beat his ass for it. Yet, I know she can take care of both herself and our pack if it comes down to it, so I play it the only way I know how.
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I make sure I’m not restricting her movements as I raise my brow at my little brother. When in doubt, make a play with confidence and swagger. I’m keeping the bond wide fucking open between Ransom, Marie, and I, projecting my movements.
However, Wilder and Storm’s bodies remain stiff, not knowing what my next play is. This is when I wonder if I need to give up my secrets to complete a pack bond with them. My brain is a mass of snakes and worry, and I’ve never wanted to burden them with that.
A part of me enjoys that they believe I have my shit together. It’s my job to make sure everyone is taken care of, but to what end?
My secrets may not be worth keeping anymore. Who the fuck cares if they don’t think I’m indestructible? I very nearly died.
“I heard you’ve been mean to my girl,” I growl, my hand possessively squeezing Marie’s stomach. “As you can see, I’m not dead, and she has my full permission to shoot your ass for reparations to her honor.”
“Her honor? Your pack fucking shot at me at your fucking funeral!” Devon roars at me. Yes, let’s shift that anger toward the ridiculous. That’s much safer than the grief filled one he held earlier.
“Ah, but it’s different when you deserve it, isn’t it?” Marie asks, smirking as she leans her body into my warmth. “You tried to twist what Lore and I have for your own selfish reasons. We were both hurting, Devon. I don’t have to be the enemy.”
“Enemy?” he snorts. “You’re this tiny omega—”
Marie shoots at his feet, and I snort, only slightly concerned we’re going to have the cops called on us for shooting up the place.
“Want to try that again?” I ask him.
“I’m pretty sure he shot a hole in our new couch,” Marie sighs, playing into my hands. “Are we gonna make him pay for a replacement? We just bought it.”
“I think he should,” Wilder breathes, pushing Devon away. My brother jumped back when Marie shot at him. I guess the “little omega” has him running scared.
That’s my fucking girl.
“What? You want to talk about a hole in the sofa instead of the dead man walking and talking?” Devon yells.
“I have a hole or two too if you need to compare,” I chuckle. “I’m pretty sure mine are bigger than the couch.”
“Always measuring,” Marie mutters under her breath.
Devon’s lips twitch, and I wait for him to let the heavy emotions he’s holding onto bleed away. We aren’t there yet, but we are closer.
“You all didn’t know the entire time, did you?” he asks. “The world is in trouble if Marie’s this good at masking her emotions.”
“You mean the puking, sobbing, mess I was?” she asks, raising her brow as I wince and kiss her exposed throat in apology.
“Yes,” Devon grunts. “Do you have some kind of drama degree I don’t know about or are you a spy?”
“No,” she snorts. “I’m just a nurse.”
“And I have a small dick,” he mutters.
“The truth is out!” Storm chortles.
“Jesus, remember we’re related,” I remind him. “I’m pretty sure his dick size is fine.”
“Marie, you’re also not ‘just’ anything,” Devon groans. “My club is even enamored with you, and Martyr is outside waiting for my report on how you’re doing. Nurses can’t handle a gun the way you do, or fry an alpha’s knot without blinking an eye.”
“My brother forced that all on me,” she says.
“It’s not something I’ve ever wanted to use.
I didn’t know Lore was alive. Everything you saw was real.
I took your words to heart, Devon. Maybe too much so, and decided to embrace my training.
I’m a crack shot and have some self defense skills in my back pocket, though I have to admit the self defense is rusty as fuck. ”
Devon stares dumbfounded for a moment before he blinks slowly. “Who the fuck is your brother, and why did he turn you into a killing machine?”
“You’re overestimating my skills,” she snorts. “Tommy Madden is my brother. He’s a—”
“He runs a fighting ring here,” Devon interrupts. “I had Ransom ask him if I could fight the night of the funeral. I needed to clear my head. I fought under Ransom’s name. That’s what he was doing as his last job for me.”
Ransom refuses to look in my direction, wincing as he feels the anger coming from me.
“Stupid is as stupid does,” I mutter. “Fuck man.”
Devon is very even tempered, until he’s not.
He used to have anger issues when we were growing up, and he took them out in the Pit when our father was the president.
People would make it a point to fight out their grievances with each other, while Devon used it as an excuse to beat the fuck out of someone.
In business, he doesn’t make a move until he’s certain it’s the right one. It’s why it’s taken him so long to put down the snakes in his club. I’ve gotten my updates on my brother in bits and pieces, but my faked death helped him along on his timetable.
“You can’t complain. It put me in a better mood to deal with your omega,” Devon shrugs.
He puts his hand up as Marie inhales sharply, shaking his head.
“Goddamn it, I fucked up again. You acted ruined by his death, Marie, and that’s how I felt.
It was really difficult to stare at my feelings walking outside of my body. ”
“I tried to hide it,” Marie mumbles.
“You didn’t need to,” Ransom says. “The bond sickness demanded blood and tears. I think that’s why you couldn’t stop throwing up. Stuffing your emotions was killing you.”
“Bond sickness,” Devon whispers, his gun moving toward me. Unfortunately for him, he can’t get a clear shot.
It’s probably for the best, not that I’d use Marie as a human shield if I really thought he’d shoot me.
“I didn’t know,” I say simply. “I was cleaning up the mess left behind by Chester and his men. It was easier to handle it while everyone thought I was dead. I would have run back here if I’d known, even as shot up as I was.”
“How are you alive?” Devon asks.
“A Good Samaritan doctor took pity on me,” I reply lightly. “Are you really going to try to kill me after just finding out I’m alive?”
“Seems counterproductive,” Ransom offers.
“I need a fucking drink,” Devon groans, putting his weapon away.
I can feel Marie sag against me in relief, though I won’t allow anyone to see it.
“I don’t know what we have left,” Marie replies honestly, straightening her spine.
“Whiskey,” Wilder says. “It’s all I’ll stock outside of beer now that I know you prefer it.”
She’s already changing our pack more than she knows. Wilder doesn’t enjoy whiskey, unless it’s a certain Irish brand. Funny enough, that’s what he brings out with several glasses, and Marie sighs as she glances at the couch.
“I’ll pay for it,” Devon offers. “I’ll call it emotional restitution or some shit like that. Should we worry about the cops?”
“I deleted the calls to dispatch just now,” Storm says. “Our neighbors are having some issues with getting calls through now to the police station.”
“Hope no one has an actual emergency,” I say, grunting when Marie elbows me in the stomach.
“I’m so glad I’m not the only brother she beats up,” Devon says.
No, but I am the only one who gets to grovel for forgiveness between her creamy thighs and that suits me just fine.
“Let’s go to the roof,” Wilder suggests, staring balefully at the couch.
“I’ll put in the order for a replacement and take it out of your account,” Storm says, shaking his head. “The Monroe brothers can’t be house trained apparently.”
“I’m not a Monroe, but that’s no less true,” Devon confirms. “I should let Martyr in. He dislikes the cold.”
It’s funny to think the alpha could let a little thing like that bother him, and I pull her in the direction of the stairs before Martyr can see me. He can figure out I’m alive where there’s less shit to break.
As we walk up the stairs, I murmur in Marie’s ear, “My mom is a Monroe.”
I don’t know what came over me when I decided to change it. My mom didn’t give a fuck about me and left me with a monster. However, I knew I wanted to do things my own way, and that meant not keeping my father’s name.
We all pave our own paths when we strike out on our own, and this is how I chose to do it.
At least I got Devon from my father’s inability to keep it in his pants and inability to wear a condom. It’s a wonder he didn’t die from syphilis instead of a gunshot wound.
Whatever the wheel of karma dictates, that’s not how I want to go. I’ll hold on with the skin of my teeth, as long as I can snatch more moments with my girl curled against me on our rooftop, shooting the shit with the people who mean the most to me.
“Holy fuck, how many lives are you on?” Martyr exclaims as he finds me lounging on the couch with Marie.
“One less,” I admit, bringing my whiskey to my lips.
It’s a lesson to be less trusting, even if they are one of the club’s chapters.