TWENTY-THREE
Splice
Thanksgiving came, and Splice took Lisa home for a family meal.
At least he was trying, but she was glued to the passenger seat of his truck, hesitating to go inside, clutching a bottle of red wine and a gift bag of chocolates.
“Maybe this is too soon.” She reasoned.
“Nice try,” he replied. “We’re going inside.”
“Ryan...” she whined sweetly, clasping the edge of his long-sleeved shirt, pleading with her gorgeous eyes. “We could cuddle on my couch. I’ll make you any dessert you want. And I’ll talk dirty things to you in any language you like.”
Unclasping her seatbelt, Splice leaned over and grasped Lisa’s chin before he pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Quit seducing me, sweetheart; you know it’ll work. It’s only a meal, and you’ve met Mom before.”
“I wasn’t your girlfriend then.”
“I already told her we’re dating again. She was happy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Her exact words were, Don’t fuck it up, Ryan.”
Lisa chuckled, and her shoulders dropped.
That’s when Splice climbed out of the truck and came around to open her door.
She remained in the seat, looking at him with pleading eyes.
If she insisted she wanted to go home, of fucking course, he’d do anything she said; he was already wrapped around her pinkie finger.
His cells were all about making her happy.
“Ready?”
“Okay,” she sighed, and he helped her down. “We’re here,” he called out once inside. He could smell the traditional turkey cooking, and his belly groaned. And sure that there would be three dessert pies in the kitchen, too. His stomach was about to be happy.
As he told Lisa, things weren’t awkward. His parent was more of a friend than a mom. Lisa worried about the age gap and his mother’s approval, but his mom hugged her immediately.
“Thank you for taking this delinquent off my hands, Lisa. I’ve been praying to Satan that it would happen one day.”
This made Lisa laugh, and Splice saw her visibly relax.
“Pour the wine, Ryan, and keep our glasses topped up. And don’t be poking your nose into those pies, or I’ll beat you. They’re for after dinner.”
He rolled his eyes, then winked at his girl. “Where is Vince?”
“He’s gonna be a little late; he called and said traffic was busy.”
Thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch.
Splice’s belly was currently housing five slices of pie, and he was in the middle of eating through a box of butter cookies while Lisa and his mom chatted. They hadn’t stopped all afternoon.
Splice wasn’t a man who needed everyone to get along.
If Lisa and his only parent didn’t take to each other, it would never have altered his determination to keep her forever. But it was a good sight to see them laughing together.
He heard the back door open and saw his uncle striding down the hallway, carrying two bottles of wine and a bag from a local bakery.
“Hey, son. Traffic was fucking murder. Tammie says you brought your girl home, huh? Did the planets collide when that happened?” Vince chuckled. Splice smirked and half-hugged his uncle.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Lisa told Vince when Splice introduced them.
“Well, now I know you’re far too pretty for this one.” Vince thumbed over to Splice, “If he ever gives you trouble, you just call me, and I’ll break his legs. He’s always been a pest.”
“Got it.” Laughed Lisa.
Thanksgiving was nice, but Splice wanted some alone time with his girlfriend, so they bailed an hour later.
“You and your mom act like besties; it’s so cute,” Lisa remarked, her hand on his thigh, as he drove them home. Splice covered that hand, hungering for any skin connection.
“We raised each other. She was only seventeen when she had me.”
“Wow, she was so brave.”
Splice’s lips flattened as he focused on the road. He’d known he’d have to tell her some of his family history but hadn’t found the right segue until now.
“I wasn’t exactly planned,” he said. “Mom was raped after a prom. She was dating Dad, and he took me on as his own.” Lisa’s other hand covered his.
Splice went on. “I didn’t find out until after Dad was gone.
One night, Mom was drunk, buried in her grief.
I found her sobbing in the basement. To this day, I don’t think she realizes she told me, and I haven’t mentioned it to her. ”
“My God, Ryan, I’m so sorry,” Lisa exclaimed.
He wanted no secrets between them; too much time had already been wasted.
“How is your mom now?”
“She’s better, but that was a rough time. I’m sure if I hadn’t come home when I did, I would have been burying her days later. They were crazy in love with each other.”
“Oh, poor Tammie. I can’t imagine what she’s been through, losing her soulmate.”
Splice lifted their clasped hands and kissed the back of hers. His dad was always in his conversations, so he didn’t feel the stab of his loss anymore like he once did.
“You saved me, you know? My soulmate.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dad died only months before I met you. I was a wild prick, trying to numb the grief. So I drank, got into fights, street racing, basically, I was directionless, just drifting in nothing but pain and emptiness. Other than taking care of Mom and Bart, I wouldn’t have cared if anything happened to me.
I risked my life doing dumb shit. And then I saw you.
” Splice turned his head as he pulled into his driveway, switching off the engine.
“You were probably the best therapy I needed to pull myself back from the brink.”
“And then I left you.” She grimaced. Her sweet face puckered.
And before Splice knew it, she’d unbuckled and all but hurled herself across the console to climb into his lap, burying her face into his neck.
“I’m so sorry for leaving you, too. It won’t happen again, Ryan.”
Oh, his adorable girl made his heart fucking yawn open. Splice wrapped her up in his arms.
“I’m so sorry for all the bad that you went through.”
“You know how I see it, sweetheart?” he angled her face and saw her lashes dotted with unshed tears for him.
“What?”
“It feels like I was born to be with you. So you have to keep me, okay?”
Who said Splice didn’t have romance running through his veins? He was practically giving Shakespeare a run for his money.
“Ryan,” she gave a watery laugh and buried her face on his shoulder. “Okay, I’ll keep you.”
“Can I have it in writing?”
Her eyebrows rose, making his girl so sexy as he swiped her fallen tears with his thumbs. Because he was a savage who really liked this girl, he sucked the wetness from his thumb.
“That sounds like one of those funny, kinky contracts.”
Splice wagged his eyebrows and earned himself a shoulder whack. Laughing, he kissed her quickly and lifted her into her seat before he stepped out and came around to her side.
“Such a gentleman,” she remarked, but then smirked and added, looking at him slyly, “but who has bad thoughts.”
“They’re the best thoughts, sweetheart.”
He intended to get her mouth the moment they were inside his house and stay there all damn night long until she whimpered into his throat. But his girl had other ideas once their shoes were off; she decided to nose around the house.
So like a tamed dog, he followed her from room to room, stealing touches as she brushed by him, and getting a kick out of seeing her in his house.
“You really do have a kidnapper’s basement,” she remarked, downstairs in his man cave. Set up with a gaming station, pool table, a leather couch, a recliner, a full-size fridge, and a media wall.
“I never bullshit when I say I’m gonna lock you up,” he bragged, smirking as she blushed. Then she gently tucked her hand into his and led him up the staircase to the main floor. “There’s no need to lock me up. I’ll stay with you of my own free will.”
Her words made his heart bash against his ribs.
On his couch, her legs were casually resting over his when she started drawing a finger over his open palm.
“What’s that?”
“I’m writing out your kinky contract to keep you forever.” Lisa made a few sweeping moves, then she grinned. “There, signed my name to it.”
How did he deserve this harmony, huh? Before Lisa could pull her hand away, Splice brought it to his mouth, kissing her palm.
“There’s my promise.”
And then she folded her fingers inward to keep the promise safe.
At that moment, the guy who lived across the street with five ex-police dogs slammed his car door. Splice was used to the neighborhood sounds, but Lisa reacted visibly, jolting, alert.
“Baby, it’s just a car door; relax.” He soothed.
The fact that Lisa was skittish sat rocks in his gut. And for that reason, he’d gone to talk to Axel this morning.
* * *
EARLIER THAT DAY
It was barely the crack of dawn; unable to sleep, Splice strode into the clubhouse after punching in the code. He was surprised to see Axel nursing a coffee cup, sitting at the bar.
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” gruffed the Prez. “It’s Thanksgiving; it can wait.”
“I haven’t said shit yet.”
“I can tell from the way you’re looking like you’re chewing glass that something is brewing.
And I know you, Splice; you’ll wanna go in guns blazing.
” Axel rubbed a hand over his scruff-covered face, looking tired.
“I have a wife ready to give birth to my kid. My grandkids in Denver have chickenpox, and I can’t see them in case I pass it on to Scarlett.
I’m already down a VP while he’s at home with his newborn.
Shelve whatever you’ve got brewing.” The authoritarian voice declared, taking a sip of his coffee.
Splice parked himself on a stool next to Axel.
Unlike Ruin, for instance, who kept shit close to his chest, Splice was known for liking gossip – fucking sue him, that shit was fun – and he always had opinions and input at the church table.
Even though Axel complained about not wanting to get involved with club drama, he was still the go-to guy for advice or just to vent to. Splice took a minute to explain what was going on.
“You think someone is targeting you through Lisa?”