Chapter 4
CLUTCH - THAT’S NOT WHO I AM
Angel calls church before sunrise.
Today there isn’t any music, women, bottles or distractions. Just wood chairs scraping against concrete and men who haven’t slept enough.
“Blood Reapers were clocked on the north ridge again,” Angel says, palms flat on the table. “Not passing through. They are mapping territory.”
Are they looking for a sign of weakness? Preacher doesn’t waste fuel unless he smells opportunity.
“We run the south line up to where they were seen tonight,” Angel continues. “We double escort, no lone riders. No stops that aren’t planned.”
Four shifts beside me, jaw tight but steady. Dani’s name is tattooed on the inside of his wrist, it ripples as he clenches his fists. He’s locked in, focused.
“Three-day loop,” Angel adds. “Maybe four.”
Shit.
Four glances at me. “I’ll take the second unit.”
I nod, but fuck… Bex won’t like it. Not because she’s clingy, because she hates not knowing. She hates staying here alone.
When I push open our door, she’s sitting cross-legged on the bed in worn jeans and a tank top, hair still damp from a shower, reading something on her tablet.
She looks small in this room.
“You’re back early,” she says without looking up.
“Church wrapped quickly.”
That gets her attention. She studies my face like she’s reading a lab result.
“How bad?”she asks, her voice soft.
“Bad enough.”
I toe off my boots and sat beside her. The room smells faintly like her shampoo, and I want to bury myself in her scent, surround myself in all things her.
The walls are thin and somewhere down the hall a door slams. Laughter bleeds through drywall. Bex flinches slightly at the noise. I pretend not to notice because I can’t deal with that argument tonight, not when I know she won’t be happy with what I have to tell her.
“I’m heading out tonight. Could be a few days.”
Her jaw tightens for a fraction of a second before she smooths out her reaction.
“Okay,” she says, seeming to work through something in her mind. “I’ll just stay on call at the hospital, pick up overtime... There are on-call rooms upstairs I can stay in.”
“No.” It comes out sharper than I meant it to, but fuck that.
Her eyes lift slowly. “No?” she repeats, arching one brow.
“This is your home,” I say, keeping my voice level. “There’s shit moving right now. I need to know you’re here. Behind these gates.”
Her fingers dig into the edge of the tablet.
“Behind the gates,” she echoes.
“Yeah.”
Where I can protect you. Where Angel can protect you. Where my brothers stand watch.
She sets the tablet aside carefully, straightening herself out before looking at me saying, “You know the hospital has security and cameras. I would be safe there...”
“Not like this place.” I cut her off. Because my wife is not hiding out at the fucking hospital.
She doesn’t answer and the silence stretches longer than I like.
“You don’t trust it,” she says finally.
“I trust us.”
That’s the difference between us. I trust loyalty, my brothers above all else.
I pull her into my lap needing to close the invisible distance between us. She’s tense for half a breath, then she softens. She always softens for me. I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in. She doesn’t wear perfume, nothing artificial… I breathe in her.
“You think I don’t know what’s out there?” I murmur. “You think I don’t hear what Preacher’s crew does to women?”
Her body stiffens in my arms, “It’s not just Preacher,” she says quietly. “Not just his club.”
My jaw tightens, I don’t like what she is implying. “That’s not us.”
She doesn’t argue, but she doesn’t agree either.
I kiss her temple, her cheek, her mouth. I need her, I need to know she is with me, that we are ok. Needing to feel anchored before I ride into territory that doesn’t belong to us.
Her hands slide up my shoulders, as she kisses me back. Like she understands. She matches the intensity. Like we’re both trying to hold something in place.
When I finally lay her down, it’s not about proving anything. It’s about closeness, skin against skin. Her breath evening out under my hand.
We work in unison, stripping off our clothes. My cut is draped over the chair, and everything else is tossed on the floor.
“I need you Bex, when was the last time I was in you?”
“Too long,” she whimpers into my lips.
I don’t have patience for foreplay tonight. I need her, and she is ready for me. My fingers find her wet for me when I rub the head of my cock through her folds.
I position myself between her legs, kissing her deeply and when I finally push inside her, it's like coming home.
She instantly clenches around me, whispering my name. I hate that she feels like she needs to be quiet here. I want to hear her scream my name.
I bite her collar bone, wishing I could mark her as mine with more than just my name on her cut, my ring on her finger. I move my lip down to her breast, knowing she loves when I drag my scruff across her skin. I kiss and suck and bite.Needing her to let go with me.
I grab her hip to angle her, needing to be deep and start to move. My pace is relentless, pounding into her. My eyes are locked on hers, the blue so crystal clear.
Flush starts to creep up her chest and neck… to her cheeks. I know she is close and I want to feel her cum all over my cock before I fill her up.
I rotate my hips and make sure to hit the spot that sets her off every time. Her eyes flare and I know I have her. Bex whimpers, biting her bottom lip trying to keep quiet.
“Declan,” she moans softly.
I love my name on her lips, love that she is the only one who says it.
I move faster, tingling already starting at the base of my spine.
It never takes me long with her, and it's not because I'm a quick trigger, it's her, the way she feels, how intense the connection feels between us when I am in her. When the rest of the world disappears and I can be Declan with her.
I drop her hip and lower my body over hers, needing our skin touching, needing my weight pressed into her; she feels so small under me like this.
I bite one of her nipples before I settle fully over her and kiss her deeply.
Bex moans into my mouth, and I start to grind into her, long, drawn-out thrusts, and that does it. Her whole body trembles beneath me, she whimpers, and I keep kissing her, wanting to consume the sound. Needing every ounce of this.
I follow behind shortly after her, spilling deep within her, wishing she would stop taking the pill. Feeling feral and protective… like a caveman when it comes to her.
I roll us to our side, still connected, our release coating both of us. I know I should get up and clean her off, but I love that she's covered in me, in us.
She is mine, and this proves it.
Exhaustion wins and she falls asleep curled against my chest.
I stay for longer than I should.
I should be packing or checking in with Axel. Instead, I lie there listening to her breathe, kissing the top of her head and whispering, “I love you, Bex.”
I don’t say it often enough, but she knows. She knows I love her.
I close my eyes for a moment, the hallway noise fades… the compound hums around us. I breathe her in, allowing myself this moment of peace.
I’ve been meeting Torch by the tree line near the east fence, getting everything ready. I want a porch facing west so we can watch the sunset together. A big kitchen where she can cook.
Windows that don’t rattle with bass.
I haven’t told her. I don’t like keeping things from her, but I want to see the look on her face when I hand her the keys.
I need to show her that I am serious, show her this life can be bigger than the wall or this clubhouse. Show her what family in this compound is all about. That she can be happy here, we both can be, because family belongs inside these gates.
I know what she thinks… but this place isn’t meant to be a cage… its safety, protection. Family.
I trace lazy circles against her back.
“I’ll build it,” I whisper against her hair, even though she can’t hear me. “You’ll see. I will give you everything.”
I finally slide out from under her when the sun shifts higher, she stirs but doesn’t wake.
For a second, I consider staying… I considered calling Angel and asking someone else to take point. Because… and I cannot put my finger on it… but, I feel like I should stay. I should show her that she is a priority… I have been failing at that lately.
But that’s not who I am.
So I get dressed, my eyes never leaving her sleeping form, I pull on my cut, strap my boots and check my sidearm.
At the door, I look back. She’s still curled on her side, hand resting on the mattress where my chest was, the ring I gave her sits proudly on her finger.
Everything I want is in that bed and I ride out thinking I’m protecting it.