Chapter Sixteen
Gracie
I expected Fallon, Uncle Reign, or my father to object to me staying at the clubhouse.
Sure, there’d been times when we were really young that we sometimes sheltered at the clubhouse during uncertain times. But as a whole, the guys always wanted us up at Hailstorm.
I got it from a logistical standpoint. If we were at the clubhouse, they had to split their focus between protecting us and neutralizing a threat.
Then there was the whole plausible deniability thing. If we were at the compound, we would genuinely be able to say we had no idea what was going on with the club if the law got involved. We couldn’t say that if we were at the clubhouse.
So it was a happy surprise when Fallon, my dad, and my uncle had no objections to me crashing at the clubhouse.
I imagine if I waited any longer to ask, someone would have come up with a list of reasons it was a bad idea. Catching them off-guard when their minds were racing worked in my favor.
And, of course, the reason I wanted to stay was because of Perish.
It made more sense for me to be at Hailstorm with all my cousins, aunts, and sweet little baby second cousins.
And there were so many things to do there.
No one in their right mind would choose the dreary, dark basement barracks over a trip up to the compound.
I had a feeling my aunts—especially nosy ones like Aunt Lo—would have some questions for me the next time they saw me. Not to mention my cousins.
And since they all knew that the Wi-Fi was actually incredible at Hailstorm because of the hackers, they would call BS real quick if I tried to feed them the same lie I had my male cousins and uncles.
I would have to come up with a better lie by then, that’s all.
“Want one more before I hit the road?” Uncle Pagan asked, taking my empty glass before waiting for an answer.
“Always a great influence on the kids,” my dad said, shaking his head at my uncle.
“I don’t see any kids here. I know,” Uncle Pagan said when my dad winced. “That’s a hard one, ain’t it? Our kids are grown and shit.”
“Do your old man a favor and have something to eat along with that drink, okay?” my father asked. “Your uncle has a heavy pour.”
“Promise,” I agreed.
“Speaking of food,” Dezi said, making Sully snort at my other side as he approached. “Gracie, what comfort food can I get you? Cupcakes? Donuts? Brownies?”
“Oh, um…”
It was the briefest of hesitations.
But Dezi latched onto it.
“You’re right. It’s probably safest to get all of them.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be going to see Junior?” Sully asked.
“Yeah, but I can place a sweets order first and pick it up on the way back.”
A little smile tugged at my lips as I looked between them, reminded suddenly how much I missed hanging around the clubhouse. I’d been so busy building a business and work—
“Uh-oh,” I said, wincing.
“What?” my father asked, tensing.
“I don’t think my boss is going to be okay with me taking more time off.”
“It’s time you quit that job anyway,” my father said, shrugging.
“I need the income.” For my own sanity, mostly. The party planning was bringing in enough to pay my bills. I was just too scared to dive in with both feet.
“If you need an infusion of cash, you know we got you,” Dad assured me.
I did.
I knew that.
And I wasn’t sure why it was so damn important to me that I not take him up on that offer.
“Don’t worry about work, okay?” he said, rubbing between my shoulders twice. “Not with everything else going on.”
He was right.
They didn’t need any more stress.
They had enough on their plates.
And if I lost my job, I could just get another.
“Okay,” I agreed.
He said his goodbyes a moment later. Pagan and Sully followed. As did Dezi, after he made a phone call to a local bakery.
Pretty soon, the clubhouse felt almost empty again.
Fallon, Brooks, and a few of the uncles moved outside to talk. And I knew several other members were acting as guards somewhere on the grounds.
But when I moved off the stool, I was alone.
“Whoa,” I said as the room swam.
“I got you,” Perish said, his hand grabbing my elbow.
Okay.
So not alone.
“Second one hitting hard?” he asked, plucking the drink from my hand.
“I don’t drink a lot,” I admitted, craning my head up to look at him.
“And Pagan’s pours are fucking lethal. That fucker got my ass drunk once before I even realized I was feeling it.”
“It just tasted blue.”
A little huff of a laugh escaped him at that.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his gaze sliding to my lips, “I can see that. How about I walk you to the couch, then get you something to eat?”
“You cook?” I asked, letting myself be led away.
“No. But I can throw together a good sandwich.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Can I have chips too?”
“Yep,” he agreed, lowering me down onto the couch.
“Can I have pickles?”
“You can have anything you want.”
I was pretty sure I batted my eyes at him then. Which got me a little sigh and a mumbled Fuck under his breath before he turned away and went into the kitchen.
Alone, I pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and reached for the remote, though I was mostly listening to Perish move around in the kitchen. Making me food. Aside from family, I’d never had a man make me food before. Not even something as simple as a sandwich.
I was stupidly excited about it.
He emerged when I finally found one of my favorite ‘90s rom-coms to put on.
Then there he was. With a plate the size of a platter, with three different kinds of chips, a variety of pickles, and a sandwich that had to be five inches thick—mostly with meat and cheese and what seemed like one slice of lettuce.
“Didn’t know what kind of chips or pickles you like.”
“I like them all. But for the record: I like plain potato chips. The ones that fold over are my favorite. And half-sour pickles,” I said, picking up one. “This is too much food for us non-giants,” I told him, gesturing with my pickle toward the cushion beside me. “Want to help me finish it?”
He looked conflicted for a moment but eventually dropped down and reached for one of the baby dill pickles.
“What’s your favorite chip?” I asked, reaching for one of the plain ones.
“Cool Ranch. Used to steal those little snack-sized bags from a local convenience store as a kid.”
“I’ve never stolen anything.”
“You’ve never needed to.”
“I think I was too much of a coward to do it.”
“Coward?” he asked, shooting me a look with lowered brows. “Think maybe it’s more like a strong conscience.”
“Dunno,” I said, the drinks making me a little confessional. “I’ve never been very daring.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“Everyone around here is daring.”
“Don’t mean you’re not as good because you like different shit.”
The noise I made must not have satisfied him.
“You respect Willa, right?”
“Willa is amazing.”
“She doesn’t do crazy shit.”
“I mean, her business dealings can be crazy.”
“And you create dick-filled divorce parties,” he said, making a choked laugh escape me. “That’s its own kind of crazy.”
“That was a really fun party,” I said, handing him half of the sandwich before reaching for my own. “You know… until…”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Pretty sure it is.”
“Did I miss the part where you told Cameron to try to shoot us?”
“No. But I created that monster.”
“I think you protected a little boy who needed it. What he became after you went away to prison, that’s on him, not you.”
“He’s targeting you because of me.”
“Well, if it is any comfort to you, I’m sure he’d rather attack and kill you.”
That got a surprised snort out of Perish.
“I’d rather it was me.”
“I’m fine,” I reminded him.
“But—”
“I know it’s easy to underestimate me, but I can take care of myself.”
“Not if he had a gun. Not if he’d knocked you out instead of grabbing you. Not—”
“I’m safe now,” I cut him off.
“We’re gonna keep it that way.”
“I know you will,” I agreed. “How are you?”
“What?”
“How are you?”
“Nothing happened to me.”
“Perish, come on. A former friend tried to kill you.”
“You left out the ‘again’ there. Think I might be more pissed off that I screwed up in the first place. Now the whole club is in danger because of my past.”
“To be fair, the club is constantly in danger because of the members’ pasts. Or their girlfriends’ pasts.”
“Guess that’s true.”
“It’s why Fallon and Uncle Reign were so calm about it. It’s one of those ‘another month, another crazy threat’ kind of deals.”
“Maybe. Still don’t like bringing danger here. Especially to you.”
“I’m fine,” I reminded him, nudging him with my shoulder. “Now hush. This is my favorite scene.”
We ate in companionable silence while I tried not to notice how his body brushed mine from shoulder to knee, how if I just scooted slightly closer, I could rest my head on his shoulder, I could wrap an arm around him.
Eventually, Sully came back, and Perish offered to help him bring my things in and down to the basement.
He never came back up.
I knew I couldn’t ask where he was without rousing suspicion.
So I stayed upstairs a little while longer, stealing some sweets from the supply Dezi came back with before making my way down to the basement.
To find that not only had Perish carefully unpacked all my clothes and placed them in one of the cabinets he’d cleared out for me, he’d made my bed with my warm blanket, my pillow, and my squishy plush that I used as a mini body pillow, since I was a side sleeper.
He’d even found an old desk and brought it over to the end of the bed, setting up a small office space with my laptop, notebooks, and tablet.
For goodness’ sakes, he’d even set my slippers near the bed and hung my robe from the top bunk.
It was so incredibly sweet to set me up with a little home inside a safe house. Like he somehow knew I needed that, that I was someone who really loved their creature comforts.
I glanced over toward the glass room, weighing the chances of getting caught going up there, and deciding it was worth it.
“Baby, no,” Perish said as soon as my head peeked through the trapdoor. “Your uncles are walking around outside.”
Well, yeah, that certainly put a damper on the desire that had been building since he first started to undress me.
I rested my arms on the floor, going for as casual as possible.
“I was just coming up to say thank you.”
“Didn’t do shit.”
“You set up all my stuff.”
Or had I read that wrong? Did Sully do it? It did seem a bit more characteristic for someone like him. I mean, the guy had set up a whole date night full of craft stations for his girl because she liked doing crafty things.
But no.
No, Sully had come up too quickly and headed out to do something with Voss and Valen.
There was no way he could have done all of that so quickly.
“My fault you’re stuck in a fucking basement.”
“No one is blaming you,” I reminded him. “Least of all me. But thank you. It looks a million times more cozy. I appreciate it.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Well, it’s something to me. I’m thanking you. So accept my gratitude, you pain in the butt.”
I got a smile for that.
Probably because I said ‘butt’ instead of ‘ass,’ but either way, it was a good look on his face.
“Goodnight, Perish.”
“’Night, Gracie.”