Chapter 7
Thicker Than Blood
Sabre
“I’m sorry,” Grace said, staring straight ahead as she sat upright in the hospital bed. When she’d delivered JR, relief had hit me. They had been healthy, and I could breathe a little easier. This felt familiar, but I was out of my depth.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.” I reached for her hand, and she didn’t hesitate to hold mine.
“I know, but this is my dad. I should have handled him.” Her lips quivered. “Maybe I should have given in a few times to keep the peace.”
My temper flared at Gerry all over again, but I tamped it down. I wanted to rage about how fucked up this entire situation was, but I didn’t. Gerry wasn’t here to feel my wrath, and Grace was the wrong person to unleash my fury on. She’d internalize it.
There was a knock on the door.
“Feel like some company?” Scrub asked, sticking his head around the curtain. “I need a place to hide out.”
“Of course,” Grace answered, smiling at him. We both noticed it didn’t reach her eyes, but I made a slight hand gesture for him to let it go. I’d give her tonight, and if she was still having a hard time, I’d talk to her.
“Is it busy?” she asked, shifting against the pillows.
Scrub bristled at the words as he took the seat next to me. “You just jinxed me.” He was about to say something else when there was another knock on the door.
“So this is where you’re hiding.” Stands walked into the room. “Nurse Betty is looking for you.” I’d have to ask Scrub later if he’d planned this meeting or if he had just gotten lucky.
Scrub went to stand. “Do you want my chair?”
“No, but you owe me.” Stands stood at the bottom of the bed, leaning against the little table that was in the room.
“I’d give you anything you asked for.” Scrub was serious. He’d been working to get Stands back since the moment she walked out of the clubhouse, vowing never to return. They were at an impasse, and when you had that much history, it was hard to move on.
Stands ignored him, focusing completely on Grace. “I can throw him out if you need me to.”
Grace shook her head. “It’s alright. Are my results back?”
“If you didn’t have a history of high blood pressure, I would tell you this was a one-off and to get some rest.” Stands scrunched her nose. “Your blood work is normal. The ultrasound looks good. The baby is measuring exactly where it should be.”
“So, what was this?” I asked. If there was a problem, Stands would fix it.
“I hate to say it, but I honestly think this was stress.” When all of us stared at her, she rushed to follow-up with, “My mother and Slate are the worst gossips.”
“I thought you weren’t club,” Scrub said, daring her to contradict him.
Stands turned toward Grace, completely ignoring Scrub and me. I didn’t care as long as Grace was going to be fine. “I’m not comfortable with the wait-and-see approach, so I’m going to put some precautions in place. Less time between visits. More ultrasounds. No surprises.”
“Thank you,” Grace whispered, her eyes darting to the bed. It wasn’t much longer before we were alone again.
“You are not responsible for your father.”
“If I had done more, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“Truthfully, I think this stems from control.” I took a deep breath, turning the overstuffed chair to face her. “The more independent you are, the more his world crumbles.” I squeezed her fingers, trying to give her some of my strength.
“What about you?” Grace asked. Her eyes shifted, and I didn’t have to draw a line to know what she was looking at—the president patch on my club cut.
“What about me?”
“What happens if this is a girl?” She bit her lip, trying to hold the tears in. I wasn’t mad she was asking these questions, but I hated that she felt she had to.
“Hey, Mama.” I stood, swiping the bit of moisture from her eye with my thumb, placing it between my lips. “I’ve told you before, I don’t care, as long as you’re safe and the baby’s healthy.”
“This is your child…”
“No.” I squeezed her hand again, angry at her father for putting this fear into her mind. “JR is my son. We don’t play those games, and I’m not starting now because your father can’t let go.” I shook my head, watching the fluid drain from the IV.
***
Grizz
It was dark as I entered the kitchen from the basement. Streaks of light cut through the windows. Closing my eyes, I stood there, letting the quiet calm me.
I didn’t feel the need to stick around when the enforcers had it under control. Really, I had nothing else to say to Gerry, and I had a feeling he’d try to pull whatever heartstrings I had. Listening to him would only give him validation, and that was the last thing I was fucking doing.
Turning the corner into the main room, I quickly scanned it, looking for my wife.
I didn’t see the back of her blonde head when my eyes swept over the couch facing the TV.
Dead was watching the animal channel by himself.
He must have felt me staring because he turned his head in my direction and pointed towards the stairs.
Opening my bedroom door, my eyes instantly fell on her back, and I breathed a sigh of relief. She was standing over Pumpkin’s crib, her hand hanging low to soothe the baby.
I made enough noise to alert her that she wasn’t alone. I wouldn’t let her spiral again. She was perfect for me, and I’d remind her of that fact as many times as she needed. Shutting the door, I let it latch before taking off my club cut and hanging it on the hook.
“Hey,” she whispered, not bothering to turn around.
“Hey,” I muttered, walking across the floor to wrap my arms around her from behind. I wasn’t sure if she would be up for talking, but when Meredith’s hand laced with mine, it was my sign she was reeling and needed grounding.
“No one will harm her. I’ll kill any motherfucker who tries.” Meredith was serious.
“It’s a good thing she’s still little, potty mouth.” We tried to limit the language Pumpkin heard, fearing her first word would be “fuck”, but my joke fell flat.
“She’s ours by choice, and we both would go to war if something happened to her.”
“Baby, I’d do the same for you.” I reached down with my other hand, patting Pumpkin’s tummy.
Meredith turned in my arms, throwing hers around my neck. She buried her face in the crook of my shoulder, letting out a sigh I felt in my chest. “Why does my dad sacrifice us? We’re his blood.”
I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “You know this won’t end well for him, right? The club isn’t offering protection.” I pecked her lips. “My only concern is you.”
“He’s going to die, isn’t he? Someone from the cartel is going to kill him?” Her eyes were glassy as she bit the bottom of her lip. I tightened my arms around her, not really knowing how to answer. I didn’t want to lie to her, but speaking the inevitable wasn’t exactly the right way to go either.
I didn’t respond fast enough. She snuggled up against me, and I heard her mutter, “He’s going to die.”
***
Thunder
I stood outside Liz’s bedroom door on the first floor, letting the sounds from the main room surround me.
My heart sank as I rubbed at my sternum, trying to relieve the heartburn that was crawling up my throat.
I didn’t want to do anything that impeded her recovery, but I also couldn’t let her find out about the arranged marriage from anyone else.
I rapped my knuckles against her door, waiting for her to call out. Her room was her domain, and while I spent plenty of time in it, I never invaded her space.
“Come…in.” Her voice sounded stronger, and I took it as a good sign.
“Want some company?” I asked, sticking my head around the door. I didn’t know how long she’d been awake, but she was lying on her side, facing the door.
“Yes.” She smiled, slowly sitting up. She adjusted the pillows behind her, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The blanket fell to her waist, revealing the top of her favorite pair of pajamas. Liz was a proper lady, but the dogs always caught me off guard.
I took my club cut off, hanging it on the hook before unlacing my boots. I left them by the door as I climbed onto the bed, sitting next to her.
“Tell me.”
I said nothing, wondering where to even start.
“Bob…by. Say some…thing.”
She used my given name in private, and hearing it from her always made me pause.
Sometimes, I had to stop and make sure she was actually talking to me, even though I was the only Robert in the club.
I must have taken too long because she pinched my side.
It didn’t hurt, but I jumped, bending to avoid her fingers.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.” I raised my eyebrows at her. “You’re feeling better.”
She shrugged. “Nothing I…can—“
She couldn’t find the words, and I sat patiently, waiting. She’d come around eventually, or her brain would process the same sentiment with words she could pronounce.
”—can do.”
It was my turn to shrug. “How did you know Alex is in town?”
She nodded. “He left…watch.” Liz pointed to herself. “I gave…to him.”
I took a deep breath, holding my hand out to her. She didn’t hesitate to link her fingers with mine, but when a bolt of heat raced up my arm at her touch, I knew better than to read anything into it.
The first time I’d accidentally brushed up against her, the same heat had sizzled in the crack between us. I’d jumped to conclusions, assuming she felt the same. Selfishly, I’d pushed for a little more, only to be met with reality.
Liz hadn’t meant to, but she’d stomped on my heart.
She saw me as only “a good friend,” and instead of being angry at her, I’d squashed my expectations.
She hadn’t been ready then, but that hadn’t stopped me from making small strides.
I often held my hand out for hers, and she never hesitated. It was enough—for now.
“Gerry’s alright downstairs, but he said he thought he was signing new employee paperwork the last time he met with Alex. He’s supposed to be lead counsel here in the States.”
“Peter said…Gerry was…lucky. He…missed…details. Retire.”
“I think he’s so desperate to get back to the top that anytime it’s offered to him, he jumps at the chance. He signed, not reading the fine print carefully. The back page was an arranged marriage contract.” I waited to see if she would put the details together.
Her eyes shifted off into the distance. I gave her time to process what I had just said, but I watched her face for her reaction. If I were her, I’d be angry, but so far, she just looked dejected.
“So it’s true,” she said. “I’ll go.”
“What the fuck?” I couldn’t believe I had heard her correctly. “You’re going to go? Go the fuck where?”
“With Alex. Not for…Gerry. Save girls.” She squeezed my fingers but didn’t look at me. “We knew…this was…com…com…ing.”
“Like fuck you are.” I seriously tried to adjust my volume, but she was talking absolute nonsense, and I could barely control the words coming out of my mouth.
“It’s alright.”
“Like fuck it is. Martyrs end up dead.”
“Bob…by.” She squeezed my hand again. The pressure reminded me to tone it down. If I was too loud, someone would come down the hallway to check on her, and I didn’t need the interruption.
“Don’t you ‘Bobby’ me. What the fuck are you thinking?”
“He won’t…stop. Protect.” She laid her head against my shoulder. I didn’t think twice as I wrapped my arm around her, holding her against my chest.
“I’ve never been a parent, and I won’t pretend like I know anything about what you went through, but if you let him back into your life, he’s going to try every trick to make amends until he gets you alone, and then he’ll make your life hell—because he can.”
“We were…young.” She shifted so that she could look up at me. “Not same. If I…go, lea…lea…leave club.”
“That’s a pipe dream. Men like Alex don’t stop until they burn the enemy to ash, and then they still don’t stop. Sabre’s a good president, like his old man. He’ll figure it out.” I wasn’t blowing smoke. I honestly believed that.
“I’ve lived…life. It’s okay.” Her eyes were wide, and she looked lost.
“Do you honestly want to go? I’m not talking about protecting the girls or the club. If marrying him wouldn’t improve the outcome, would you still go?”
She shook her head.
“Thank fuck.” I breathed a sigh of relief. I tilted her chin in my hand. “Marry me.”
“Huh?”
“Liz, marry me because you know I’m going to stand at your back, making sure you’re protected.”