Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
LAINEY
Instead of walking around the table and making my way over to the Vicious Reapers’ side, I do something that is going to piss my brother off and likely hurt Viking’s massive pride. As if walking away from him last night and getting into the back seat of Paul’s car wasn’t enough.
Now I’m going to add insult to injury.
When I walk over to the chair beside Paul, he stands along with the other men and pulls the chair out slightly. Sitting down, I thank them and allow him to push the chair in for me. Placing my hands on the table, I avoid Viking’s gaze.
“Now that we’re all here, we should discuss terms,” Lorenzo announces.
“Terms?” Axton whispers. “Lainey-Rose?”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I slowly lift my eyes to meet my brother’s. They’re not full of rage and anger like I anticipated they would be. No, instead, they’re filled with hurt and a bit of fear. He doesn’t hide it from me. The anger is one thing, the hurt is another, but it’s the fear.
That fear gets me, cuts me deep.
“I’m here to be part of the contract. I want my input taken into consideration.”
Saying those words shouldn’t fill me with absolute heart-pounding anxiety. But it does. My heart slams against my ribs, and I hold my breath as I wait for him to say something, anything.
He doesn’t speak immediately, but then when he does, my heart almost breaks in half. I love my brother more than anyone else in the whole world, and I knew this would upset him, but I never imagined he would be this… broken.
“You’re going to do it?” he asks in a whisper.
I reach across the table, ignoring the bread, plates, and silverware, and wrap my fingers around his, gripping them, my arm straight and outstretched as my gaze continues to hold his.
“I’m going to do it, because I know it’s the right thing to do.”
Axton presses his lips together, shaking his head a couple of times as he pulls his arm in and closes his eyes. “I cannot believe this shit,” he hisses.
“Axton?” I ask softly.
I lift my fingers to my lips. I shouldn’t have said his real name in mixed company like this, but it probably doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine Lorenzo and his people don’t already know his name.
“I’m pissed,” he hisses. “Pissed at myself, at the Front Mob Family, the Reapers, and that it’s come to this. That you’re right here, willing to be with this guy you don’t even know in an effort to protect me, protect the club.”
Lorenzo grunts but otherwise stays quiet. I’m sure that the things Axton is saying are pissing him off, but he stays quiet, knowing how important this moment is. Axton is my brother, my only family, and it’s important that he is okay with this.
Earlier today, Lorenzo laid it all out. It’s all very clear and concise. I agree to marry Paul. I get to keep a bakery, but I have to open it closer to my new home. The Front Mob Family and the club work together on whatever they agree upon.
I’m out of that part.
All I have to do is marry Paul, build a life with him, and work my bakery… which includes walking away from my entire life.
That depresses me. I love my family. And while Lorenzo said I can see them and that there are no restrictions, I already know that people are busy, as they all have children.
I’ll hopefully have children as well, and monthly visits will turn into once in a while, will turn into holidays, will turn into only seeing Axton and Millie.
“It’s not ideal, but I think it’s the best decision for everyone.”
Axton presses his lips together in a thin line, then clears his throat. “You are a thirty-two-year-old woman, and you can make your own decisions. I love you, Lainey, and I trust you.”
God. I hate that. I’m not sure he should trust me. This decision felt like the right one until this moment. Now I’m backtracking and wondering what the hell I’m doing. My family, my friends. I’m going to miss everything.
Paul’s fingers curl around my thigh, squeezing gently as a reminder of last night. Instantly, I think about his mouth between my legs and the way he made me come. Wrapping my fingers around his wrist, I clear my throat, shifting my attention over to Lorenzo, but it’s Lorenzo who speaks first.
“The wedding will be a full affair. A family event in one month’s time,” he announces.
I open my mouth, then close it like a fish out of water. I cannot believe this is really happening.
A wedding.
I didn’t really expect an actual wedding to come out of this. I thought it would be some kind of justice of the peace courthouse thing, but here Lorenzo is, throwing a whole wrench in my shit.
“A wedding?” I blurt out
Lorenzo doesn’t respond to me, though. I’m staring at him, but his focus is on Axton and only Axton.
“Lainey can go back to her life for the month and get everything closed down there. After the wedding, she’s here with us. Is that acceptable?’
“Is this what you want?” Axton demands.
The way he asks that makes me want to say yes. Shifting my gaze from his, I finally allow my eyes to connect with Viking’s. He’s watching me in a way where I wonder if he’s even blinked tonight.
“Yes,” I exhale.
But I’m not sure if it’s really what I want.
I don’t know what I want. I thought this was the right choice, but now I’m not sure.
I already miss my family. I want to forget this whole thing, act as if it never even happened, but I can’t do that.
I’m here, in the thick of it, and I have a feeling there’s no turning back now.
“I guess we need to come up with a contract, then?” Ivy asks.
And there it is.
A contract. A sale. I am going to be sold to the Front Mob Family.
Sold.
VIKING
I want to rip this motherfucker’s throat out and smash it on the floor, then grind the heel of my boot into it before I laugh into his fucking face at what I’ve done. That’s what I want to do.
But as much as I want to do all of that…
I don’t.
No doubt, Bullet wouldn’t approve, and Lorenzo really wouldn’t fucking approve.
Instead, I stare at the asshole, imagining all the things I want to do to him while Ivy and the man at Lorenzo’s side go over details of a fucking contract.
He must be their lawyer, the man at Lorenzo’s other side, the older one.
They’re discussing the contract as if they’re buying a house or land or some shit, not a woman.
The sale of the woman I want.
I can’t believe this shit is actually happening. In my head, we busted in here and killed them all, then took Lainey home. But that’s not fucking reality. What it is is some fucking bullshit.
The only somewhat decent shit that comes out of this meeting is that Lainey gets to come home with us tonight.
I don’t know why that’s so important. But right now, it is.
I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood, but it’s the only way I can keep from blurting out some shit that would probably get me or someone else killed.
I look at her.
Watch her.
Take her in.
Lainey attempts to avoid my eye contact while the details are discussed, but eventually, whether it’s because she wants to look at me or if it’s more because she feels my gaze burning a goddamn hole into her skin, I’m not sure, but I’m glad she sees me.
I need her to look directly at me and convince me that this is what she wants.
I can’t determine shit. She’s hiding her thoughts from herself and from me. A throat clears, and my head swings to the side. Tearing my gaze away from her, I look over at Bullet, but then shift my attention to Piggy because he’s the one who begins to speak.
“I love my sister,” he begins, then he shifts his attention to Paul.
“I’m going to agree to whatever she wants, but just know, I’ll trip this shit up and kill every single one of you if she gets hurt in any goddamn way.
This may be an agreement for this marriage and our contract to work together, but do not mistake that for the right to do anything, to have any kind of control over her. ”
Piggy is trying hard to assert his dominance in this situation, but I have a feeling he’s not going to win the war on this at all. They’re going to agree to whatever it is he wants, and then they’re going to do whatever they want.
I know that, because that’s what I would fucking do if I were them. I’d say whatever needed to be said, sign whatever the fuck they wanted me to sign, and then I would do whatever I wanted, when I wanted—brother be damned.
“Then it’s settled,” Lorenzo exclaims, clapping his hands together a few times.
That must have been a signal or something, because as soon as he does it, that door opens again, and plates of food are brought out. It’s family-style spaghetti, meatballs, lasagna, stuffed shells, a chicken dish, and a gigantic salad.
If I weren’t sitting here watching the woman I want chat about and devise a contract for her life, which is dramatic, but it’s the fucking truth—because her life as she knows it is over the second she walks out of this room, and at the very most, the moment she takes her vows—but if all that weren’t the case, I would be fucking thrilled about this food.
It smells goddamn amazing.
I want it all. Every single fucking bite. But also, I can’t allow myself to relax in this situation. I can’t believe this is real. That this shit is happening. That we’re really giving this fucking group one of our own.
“The only thing I want to add is that until the wedding, Lainey stays under Vicious Reapers’ protection,” Bullet announces.
“We can do that, but our own men will be there, too,” Lorenzo says, taking a huge scoopful of lasagna and placing it on his plate.
I watch for a moment, waiting for everything to settle, but it’s Piggy who speaks next.
“I think your men have done enough in this instance. Give us this time with Lainey without her feeling as if she’s got to look over her shoulder at every given second.
The contracts will be signed, and there’s nothing else to be done. So it shouldn’t be an issue, right?”
Lorenzo’s gaze slides over to Paul, but neither of them speaks right away. It’s very clear to me that Lorenzo is the boss. Input is not needed from anyone else. While Bullet is our president, we get a say, a vote, and an opinion in all operations.
I don’t think that’s happening here. It’s clear it’s Lorenzo who makes the decisions, which makes me think that he is the one who gave the go-ahead to have Lainey brought here.
Granted, his own son was doing some shit he wasn’t supposed to be doing, without Lorenzo’s say, but it’s a different scenario when it’s your kid versus the rest of your crew.
“I can agree to those terms. Lainey is under your protection for the next month. I’ll be taking care of the wedding details. All she needs to do is get a guest list to me and a dress.”
My blood boils in my veins. I know that my face probably appears bright red, too. The anger fills and consumes me. But what is the alternative? It’s not like I claimed her, asked her to marry me, or any of that shit.
Fuck.
I screwed the pooch big fucking time, and that is going to eat away at me for the rest of my goddamn life. I just let her go, in more ways than one, and I hate myself for it. An instant visceral regret consumes me.
Fucking fuck.