Chapter 37
MARIETTA
Idon’t care what Betz says, as the Wild Hair return to the club, I rush out into the night to find Merrick.
Fancy rolls up in his truck, and most of the members pull off their helmets.
But Merrick isn’t with them.
I run from bike to bike, the gravel biting into the soles of my feet, asking them where he is.
“Last saw him with Iron Jack.”
“Lost him in the trees.”
“He’s bound to be somewhere.”
But he isn’t. Neither is Iron Jack.
As we head into the clubhouse, I want to shriek at all of them, “How could you have left him behind?”
Tears streak down my face. When we’re in the living room, I yank on Fancy’s arm. “We have to go back! He could be hurt!”
It’s Betz who pulls me off him. “Control yourself, Mouse.”
This is the thing that breaks me. “My name is Marietta, Goddamn it!”
My terror must strike their hearts because the room, crowded with men rushing on adrenaline from the raid, falls quiet.
It’s Stoney who speaks up from the hall, his baby girl on his shoulder. He passes the bundle to Celia, who heads back into their bedroom. “Come with me, Marietta,” he says. “I’ll explain the plan.”
The chatter resumes. I follow Stoney to the kitchen, where he opens the top of the industrial-sized coffee maker, easily filling the filter from the grounds in the container next to it and setting it to percolating like he doesn’t normally make one of the women do it.
“For the club,” he says, “though you’re welcome to a cup. It’ll be a long night.” He gestures to the stool, the only seat in the room.
I perch on it.
He leans his elbow on the counter and runs a hand across his tired face.
“Iron Jack knew Merrick’s military record and picked him as his right-hand man on this raid.
Normally, it would be me, but …” He gestures to the dried spit up on his shoulder.
“Carol’s having a hard time. It’s taking both me and Celia to keep up with all the kids. ”
I fold my hands together to keep them from shaking.
“The rest of the club was there to create a disturbance, most of all with Fancy’s explosive. Then they were to get out. They weren’t privy to the whole plan, or else they never would have left.”
“What are they doing?”
“Iron Jack is confronting Anarchy about the incident when they ran down the bike.”
“With Merrick and me?”
“No.” His face is grim. “The one with his parents.”
I suck in a breath. “He thinks Lucifer’s Kin killed his parents?”
“He’s sure of it. It was the start of them infiltrating the territory. They thought with the Wild Hair leadership out of the way, and that sheriff’s wife in their pocket, they would have an easy time of it.”
“But Iron Jack is showing them otherwise.”
“Exactly.”
“So, right now, Merrick and Iron Jack are with Anarchy?”
Stoney opens a cabinet and pulls down mugs. “Merrick wasn’t supposed to stay, but if he did, that means something’s going down. I haven’t heard from them, so I don’t know how it’s gone. We have to wait for word.”
The room fills with the smell of coffee, drawing the other bikers.
I feel worse than before. Merrick and Iron Jack are alone with the Kin.
I can’t manage. I want to fall apart or scream, but instead, I get busy. I pull out milk, creamer, and sugar, plus the flavored syrups Celia and Betz like.
I need something to do. I grab mugs. Grab liquor bottles.
Soon, the room is filled with Wild Hair, pouring coffee, adding booze, and filtering out into the cool November air.
Stoney goes with them, listening to their version of the events, and soon, only Betz and I are in the kitchen.
“Let’s make coffee for Carol and Celia,” she says.
The hysteria has shifted to numbness with the work. I can’t do anything but wait.
So, I nod and fill mugs, then put on a second round since we’ve nearly drained the first.
Betz takes the cups. I want to go out near the men, but I’m not sure they’ll allow it since I don’t have anything to do for them. I pull my phone from the front pocket of my hoodie, hoping for word. But probably Merrick has to report to Stoney first.
As the minutes pass, I slip into the bunkhouse. Jami and Christina occupy the same bunk, whispering to each other, the glow of a small nightlight revealing their shadows.
They look up when I come in, eyes glinting in the overhead in the hall.
“How did the raid go?” Christina asks.
So they know about it after all.
“Most everyone is back,” I say.
Jami sits up. “Did they kill everyone?”
“I don’t think so. There was an explosion and fire, but I didn’t hear about anybody dying.” I bite my lip. I don’t know if I should have said as much as I did.
“Are you going to send us back?” Christina asks. “Now that you all have done your thing?”
“What?” I sit on the end of the bed. “Nobody’s going to do that. Iron Jack said you could stay.”
They glance at each other. “But he raided the Kin.”
“And it was a raid that got you here.” Honestly, what was going on with them?
Jami tugs on her sweatshirt. “We don’t figure we belong here.”
“Why not? You’ve been helpful. Doing the wash. Cleaning up. We needed the help with Carol having a baby and Celia being tied up with her.”
The women lock gazes again.
“They’ll be coming if you burned their clubhouse,” Jami says. “I never saw any group of men as vengeful and mean as the Kin.”
My belly quivers at that, but I say, “This raid was meant to chase them off. They won’t be able to live at that club. They’ll move on.”
Jami lies back down. “Maybe.” But she stares up at the bottom of the bunk over her.
There’s a roar of voices loud enough to penetrate the walls. I swear I hear the name Iron Jack. Is he back?
I rush out of the room and slam straight into Merrick!
My voice is nothing more than a strangled cry as I wrap my arms around him. He smells of smoke and timber. He holds on to me, and I stand on tiptoes to press my face into his neck.
“I’m all right, little mouse,” he says.
“You didn’t come back with the others.”
“I’m here.” He holds me for a good long time before letting me go. “I need to be at the debriefing. Wait for me in our room?”
I nod and step back. As I watch him go, I realize, this is real. Every part of my heart was caught up in him coming back.
This isn’t a fuck buddy situation at all.
Maybe it never was. Maybe I always knew what I could feel, but I didn’t know how to get there.
But it’s here.
I should check on Betz and the others, but I’m afraid of getting stuck in a conversation or chores, so I do as Merrick said and head to our room. I fuss in there, putting on a bra, taking it off, brushing my hair, chewing some mint gum long enough to taste like it, then spitting it out.
I try to read one of my romance novels, but I can’t focus. I’m a mess, my situation as wild as those stories. For a moment, I think, is any of this real? How can it be real?
I dig around until I find one of the MC romances. What do the heroines do when the club goes wild?
But I don’t have time to find out. The doorknob twists, and then he’s back in the room, stripping off his cut and boots.
I stand, my heart feeling like it will burst.
“You okay?” he asks, pulling off his shirt.
I rush up to him, my hands on his skin, assuring myself he is fine. “I was so worried.”
He squeezes both my shoulders. “I was all right. And things ended rather unexpectedly.”
This makes me look up at him. “Really?”
“Yeah, law enforcement showed up. Iron Jack and I barely got past them.”
“The sheriff?”
He nods. “Hauled off the entire Kin. Every last one.”
“Were there kids?”
“No. Iron Jack made sure there weren’t any before the raid. We hung out at the highway intersection to watch them go by. Just a lot of pissed-off Kin and a few of their women.” He fiddles with my hair.
“Did you guys call the police?”
“Nope. I’m not sure who did. Maybe the angry sheriff got involved.”
So, I really did help? It doesn’t matter. Merrick is here. And I have to tell him how I feel. We’re already halfway through our two weeks.
I can’t let it end in seven days. Not after what we’ve been through.
But his mouth captures mine, and my words are swallowed in the passion of the kiss. I relax into him. This is where we shine. Our bodies in sync. Our needs aligned.
His hands reach beneath the sweatshirt to hold both sides of my waist. This position sets off another rush of emotions in me. I feel claimed. His.
But am I?
His hands make their way up, and I’m glad I opted against the bra when he cups both breasts. I suck in a breath against his warm mouth.
“I thought about you out there,” he says, his lips brushing mine with every word.
“You did?” I peer up at him, hope coursing through me.
His brows are guarded, like he’s finally considering the impact of everything that happened.
“When I was in Afghanistan, I didn’t think too much about the end of a mission or coming in from a night watch. I had nothing to return to.” His voice catches at the end of it, and a rush of love for him like nothing I’ve ever felt courses through me like a raging tide.
“But now,” he says, “when the situation was going south …”
He pauses, and I have to stuff down a burst of emotions to wait him out.
“When it was going south,” he continues, “all I could think about was that I had to get back here to you.”
I press my mouth to his again, forcing myself not to cry. He does feel it. He’s saying so in the best way he knows how. I clasp my hands behind his head, putting my soul into the kiss. We’re so much more than a wild encounter, a flash of skin. He cares.
I feel it in his kiss, in his palms running down my sides and around my back, drawing my body to his. When things got hard, he thought of me.
When he didn’t come back with the others, my world caved in.
This is real.