10. Penelope
TEN
I woketo the sound of the shower running.
The door was firmly shut, which meant Jameson was awake.
What time was it?
I slumped back down onto the bed, pushing my hair back. It had to be early if the sun coming through the window was any indication. Then again it was December, and difficult to really gauge what time it was.
Turning on my side, I began reaching for my phone when my hand brushed against a velvet box.
Propping up on my elbow, I tugged it off the side table and flicked my gaze up to the bathroom. The shower was still going.
My heart hammered away like a runaway train as I pulled the lid back.
A simple rose gold band laid inside, except along the sides were a smattering of diamonds. It was very simple, but still beautiful and somehow felt completely perfect. With a shuddery breath, I slid the band onto my ring finger and then held my hand out to inspect it.
“I wasn’t sure what you—or how you.” Jameson’s voice had my head snapping up. He seemed at a loss for words, suddenly standing in the open doorway of the bathroom. I must have missed his shower finishing and the door opening.
With a flick of my gaze to him then the ring, I fought back tears. “It’s perfect.”
Jameson scoffed, shaking his head. He wore a towel around his waist, it hung low, revealing his defined abs, and the delicious ink along his lower abdomen, leading right to his cock.
“It’s not…you deserve something bigger. Something real.”
The reminder that this wasn’t hit hard. For a singular second, I had been swept up in the fantasy of belonging to Jameson King.
Blinking, I closed my hand around the covers and pulled them back as my legs swung over the mattress.
Jameson’s gaze clung to me, like he was reluctantly drawn to the swell of my breasts through my nightgown, and the hem had ridden up.
“Do you mind giving me a hand up?” I glanced away, while running a hand down my stomach.
He shifted, but I noticed his Adam’s apple bob while he worked to avoid looking at certain parts of me. “Yeah.”
His hand came around my elbow, and with ease, he lifted me. I had been doing that on my own for months, but it felt nice to have his touch and if he was going to force a divide between us by sleeping on the floor, I was going to draw it closed by creating reasons for him to be near me.
Once I was up, I gave him a sweet smile and then stretched, which made my gown rise, grazing the very tops of my thighs.
“Thank you.”
He grunted and took a step away.
“I wanted to take you over to the house, let the Chaos Kings see us together.”
My stomach swooped, but I forced my face to remain impassive.
“Okay. I’ll shower and then be ready.”
His jaw worked, his brown eyes darting to the floor.
“I’m going to make some breakfast, is there anything you don’t like…or can’t have?”
He already knew the answer to this.
“No onions or peppers if you’re making an omelet…I like scrambled eggs and toast. Simple.”
He nodded then left me standing alone in the room.
I looked around, and realized he’d rolled up his sleeping bag and tucked it into the corner. I wondered how mad Jameson would be if his sleeping bag somehow ended up disappearing.
Jameson helped me into his truck so we wouldn’t have to walk to the temporary headquarters of the Chaos Kings. It was roughly a quarter of a mile to the large, two-story house that was now home to at least twelve of the most loyal officers in the club. At least that’s what Jamie had decided but honestly, they were all a bunch of assholes in my book.
Only twelve slept here, but during the weekends there was usually around twenty to thirty hanging around, if not more. I would always be extra anxious on those nights, as the Stone Riders would also have an influx of members arrive for the weekend. It felt like we were surrounded, and I didn’t have anywhere to go but to burrow deeper into myself.
We parked outside, and I tipped my head to take in the fresh blue paint that had been administered within the last few weeks. The windows had been replaced, and several of the inside appliances, all at Killian’s command.
Rubbing my stomach, I felt the baby give a little kick as apprehension wrapped around me. The ring Jamie left for me was secured to my finger, and as he held my hand helping me out of the truck, it gleamed under the sunlight. I caught him looking at it, then darting his eyes away just as quick, almost like he didn’t want to get caught up in the same fantasy I was stuck inside.
The sounds from inside could be heard outdoors: yelling, laughing and music. Jamie gave my hand a squeeze as he opened the front door and pulled me in behind him. The entryway was spacious and bright, with enough room for at least ten people to gather. There were boots left by the door, and even a few cuts, shot guns, and leather jackets.
Directly off the entry was the kitchen, which held a small table big enough to seat four people. Two were sitting there, cleaning their handguns. One of them was wearing the wrong patch.
“Harris?” Jamie asked, quirking a brow.
The man dipped his head and gave me a polite nod. “Prez told me I need to stick close to your side, watch over your ol lady.”
That term caught a few of the men’s attention. Whatever they had been doing was abandoned as their sullen and confused expressions seemed to work out what had just been said.
“I understand congratulations is in order.” Harris smiled, but with his thick beard, it was difficult to see. In fact, it was difficult to even place how old he was. If I had to guess, I’d assume roughly twenty years older than me or so, maybe less. His Stone Rider cut had a few veteran patches sewn in, indicating he had been in a few wars, but still was difficult to place his age.
“What’s he talking about?” Leon, one of the Chaos Kings, asked, stalking into the kitchen and giving me an ugly glare. He had long messy hair he rarely combed or tied back. He hid most of it under a beanie and allowed his beard to grow bushy and unkept. His clothing was ragged, full of holes and threadbare.
Jameson pulled me closer to his side.
“Getting married. Spread the word, the entire club is required to be in attendance.”
My heart gave a tiny sputter, which I aptly tried to squash down.
Not real.
Not real.
Leon’s gaze remained on me, as if he wanted to skin me alive. His glower was severe, enough so that Jameson cleared his throat.
“We got a fucking problem?”
Leon flicked a stony glare at me then his president. “She’s carrying a traitor’s baby…why the fuck would you marry that?”
My chest felt like someone had punched a hole inside of it.
“Well, she’s about to become my fucking wife, so you’ll get over your reservations and really fucking quickly. As for the kid…he’s mine too, and will be raised by me...”
Oh my god.
No one had ever stood up for me like that. No one had ever spoke of my son like that.
Exhilaration raged in my heart, burning and soaring like a falling star. I felt like I was living in a fairy tale, transfixed by a curse, on my way to prick my finger and end it all. Nothing could stop me from falling into Jamie’s words, or his actions regardless of how fake they were.
His firm hand tugged mine, forcing us to continue on through the house, and it wasn’t until we found a place to sit, and Jamie pulled me into his lap that the feeling finally burned out.
With his lips at my ear, he whispered, “Sorry…that’s the shit we’re going to have to tell people in public in order for them to buy this.”
I rubbed a hand down my stomach, dipping my face so he’d miss my reaction to his harsh statement. It was so stupid that I had believed him so easily. Being his pretend wife would come with his possessive declarations in public, but in private, he’d remind me that I was the friend he was duty bound to help out.
That was it.
Just a way to control his club.
I remained stoic and stiff throughout his display of leadership with his club. By lunch time, I was ready to leave.
I stood, and when Jameson stood with me, he quickly gripped the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. It was so sudden; it nearly took the air from my lungs. His lips were soft yet yielded nothing but complete and total possession. He pried my lips open with his tongue, demanding entry. A moan slipped free from me as I moved with him and kissed him back. It was as if time slipped through the cracks and fissures of lies we’d agreed on, and wound together a truth.
A promise.
We broke apart, and his eyes clung to mine as if he felt it too.
This wasn’t fake, and whether he agreed to it or not, I’d claim a piece of him by the end of this. Some part of that gave me hope. If I could finally find a way inside his heart, then maybe he’d let me stay there.
Jameson claimed he had to leave to check on a few things and dropped me off at the cabin, promising me that Harris was nearby. For the past month I had sat in the cabin, avoiding both clubs that now seemed to bookend my life. Perhaps I was just getting comfortable with my new role, or the fact that a promise of safety now rested on my finger, but I felt bold.
I chose to seek out Natty and see if she’d be open to me visiting her and dishing about the updates since last night. My car was a modest four door Toyota Camry that was over ten years old. I loved it and was damn proud of it as it was one of my first ever purchases that I had made all on my own, away from the club, and away from my mom. But the door creaked horribly when I pulled it open, and when I cranked the engine, I already knew the sound of a squealing belt would grate against my ears, along with another unidentifiable sound that seemed like my car was trying to slowly die.
Eventually it worked well enough to drive. There wasn’t even a road from the cabin up to the main house for the Stone Riders, but I drove through the dead weeds and flat ground, just the same. Cresting the only minor hill between the cabin and the clubhouse, I flicked my gaze to the rearview mirror and saw the man, Harris, following me ever so slowly on his bike. If my window wasn’t so temperamental and didn’t choose when to work and when not to, I’d roll it down to wave at him. Instead, I just continued until I found a decent place to park near the edge of the manicured lawn.
Would Killian care that I was creating my own parking space? The Chaos Kings did it with their bikes, wasn’t sure why anyone would care if I did the same with my car. Harris parked next to me and gave me a small dip of his chin as I walked toward the clubhouse.
“Miss Penelope?” he called out to me, which made me turn around.
He was tall, nearly six three or four. Broad muscle and faded ink covered the places on his arms that weren’t covered by leather. I liked his beard and kind eyes.
“Would it be a bother if I helped you out of the car from now on?”
I nearly gawked at him. No one cared if I had trouble getting in and out of my car. No one but Jamie.
Feeling a strange burning in my throat, I nodded. “Fine by me.”
His chin dipped again, and he smiled.
I wasn’t sure what to do with that, so I just persisted walking up the steps to the clubhouse. Right as my hand touched the handle, I turned back toward Harris.
“This club still makes me nervous. I—I don’t really feel welcome unless I’m with Jamie or Natty. Would you mind walking with me until I find her?”
Harris was behind me within a blink. “Of course, Miss Penelope.”
Warmth spread through my chest, and I pushed open the door. There were people milling about, but they only glanced my way once then returned to their conversations. In here, I didn’t seem to be a zoo animal like I was with the Chaos Kings. Here, no one thought I was carrying a traitor’s baby, or that I was a whore. No one seemed to hate me.
Skirting the kitchen, I caught sight of Natty and veered directly for her.
“Pen, hey! I was on my way to come find you.”
I narrowed my eyes, searching hers for a lie. “You were?”
She lifted a concealed box of something and then set it on the counter with a huff. “Laura is going to sing at the Hollow tonight. Callie is going to go, and both of them asked me if I would ask you to come with us.”
“The Hollow?”
She smiled warmly while cutting through the box with a rather large hunting knife she seemed to pull from somewhere under the counter. It wasn’t a normal kitchen knife, and since I’d been around different clubs growing up, I learned how to spot things that didn’t seem to fit. Natty carrying that massive knife didn’t fit. The hilt was thick, black and had a scythe etched in silver.
For some reason, I didn’t feel like drawing attention to it. I just watched her work as she began explaining this refurbished bookstore turned lounge bar. Singers and live bands would go and do sets while drinks were served, and apparently Laura was one of the regulars.
Natty sheathed the knife, then slid it under a gap in the counter and drawer. It made me curious how many weapons she had stashed around the place.
“Sounds fun. I just have to let Jameson know.”
Natty smiled sweetly. “Great, and do you think I can ride with you?”
“Of course.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Harris lingering near the bar. I promised Natty I would come get ready with her after going back to the cabin. It would give me time to talk to Harris.
Once I approached and explained I was heading back, he merely smiled and followed me out.
“I’m going to the Hollow tonight with Natty, Laura and Callie,” I said once we were outside and walking toward my car.
Harris nodded. “I’ll follow.”
“Can I—” I wasn’t sure how to ask without seeming too clingy, so I blinked and stopped, forcing him to stop next to me. “Can I have your number, so I can text you if I ever feel…” My face flushed. This was so stupid. He wasn’t my babysitter or my friend. Just because he’d shown me kindness and basic human decency didn’t mean he was on call.
“Just shot you a message, Miss Penelope. Jamie made sure I had yours earlier.”
My face warmed again. “Do you think you can call me something other than that? It’s making me feel like I have a chauffeur or something.”
He smirked. Or I thought he did. His beard covered it.
“How about I call you Penny?”
I smiled. “That’s perfect…”
Turning back toward my car, I paused when he spoke again?—
“Penny, it’s an honor to watch over you.” I spun around, giving him my attention. “I—well, I was watching Callie for a bit, until Wes took over. I had sort of gotten used to protection detail. I never had kids, but I see you and Callie, even Laura and Natty and I think of you all like daughters in a way. Just in the sense that I can watch out for you. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thank you for letting me.”
It was the hormones that made me tear up.
And definitely the reason I walked over and wrapped my arms around him.
“Thank you, Harris. I haven’t ever had anyone look out for me. I’m honored that it’s you.”
His eyes seemed to glisten but I didn’t stick around to watch. For the first time in forever, I finally felt like maybe, just maybe, this place would be a way of healing after all.
I pressed the stamp into the corner of the envelope and then licked the seam and closed it. Natty, Callie and Laura were all getting ready to leave for the Hollow, but I had asked if I could drop this letter in the mail first.
Of course, they didn’t mind, but the walk would take a good minute or two because of how long the driveway was to the main gate. The cold air helped clear my head as I walked, and by the time I pulled the metal handle on the mailbox down, I felt like I was breathing easier as I slid the envelope in.
Jamie would probably frown on me doing this, mainly because Miles had technically stayed behind, but I knew he stayed not out of loyalty to Luke, but merely the location. Miles had a good house in Richland, and was getting older, his disability was all that kept him afloat these days, and while a good portion came in from the military, there was no way he could up and leave. Some men merely wanted a place to connect; it was why these clubs had begun in the first place. Most men didn’t give two shits about the politics of the club; they just wanted a few drinking buddies, or a friend to ride with.
So, I felt justified sending him an update on my life. Maybe it was the interaction with Harris that had me feeling sentimental. I hadn’t lied when I had said no one else had watched out for me. Miles was a decent man, but he’d never stepped into the line of fire for me, or gone out of his way to help me, outside of letting me live under his roof. The second my mom passed, any lingering affection for me seemed to as well.
But, part of me wouldn’t accept it. Mom had finally found a club that worked. She had no idea she was living out the last few years of her life when we arrived on Miles’ stoop. He let us stay, and we had made a home. It was odd, awkward at times and unconventional, but I’d been with him for five years, and more than that once I had moved back. He had to want some sort of connection with me.
Which is what prompted this letter. Miles hated talking on the phone and had no clue how to text. A written letter would do the trick, and maybe he needed some reassurances that I was okay, that my son was okay.
Hopefully Jamie would understand.
Hopefully Miles would respond and be thankful I had reached out.
It would be a wildflower pressed into my journal as soon as I found a fresh field.