Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
VIKING
My heart races, panic fills me, and I know that the blood has drained from my face. Shocker’s expression isn’t much different as that realization slams into him as well. They fucked us over, and they’re going to get Lainey.
“But to what avail?” I ask, voicing my thoughts.
“Got no goddamn clue whether it’s a test, a fuck-you, or what. I don’t give a shit, either. That was some goddamn bullshit, and I won’t deal with these fucks ever again.”
Never a-fucking-gain.
This shit is done, and I’m going to kill Paul. Might kill Lorenzo, too. Depends on what the fuck he has to say about this. I just don’t understand why it even happened. What are they going to gain from stealing three bikes?
It’s the biggest fucking insult they could deliver, aside from hurting one of our protected women. There’s no explaining this away, no turning the other cheek, and if Bullet were to even attempt it, he would have complete and total mutiny on his hands.
Not that I think he ever would.
I know Bullet is trying to keep shit from getting crazy, trying to keep a war at bay, but this isn’t that. This is the family starting shit, and I’ll be damned if the Reapers don’t finish it. Even if I gotta do that shit all by myself, because I am pumped up and ready.
“Well, I plan on finding out and finishing it all.”
“Hell yeah, tag me the fuck in, brother,” Screamer calls out from the truck just as the engine roars to life.
“Let’s fucking goooo,” Screamer, well… screams.
Shocker jerks his chin at me, his eyes searching mine. “Whatever the game plan is with this shit, no matter what anyone says, I’m with you, Viking.”
That’s a pretty bold statement, and it means everything to me. He is with me, which doesn’t just mean he has my back. It means he’s putting all of his trust in me, and he believes that I’m going to make the best decision on what just happened here and how to handle it. No matter the repercussions.
“Lainey isn’t marrying him.”
Shocker’s lip twitches into a smirk. “Good.”
“And if it’s already done, I’ll kill him.”
Shocker’s smirk turns into a full-fledged smile. “Goddamn straight. Let’s do this.”
I let out a chuckle as he makes his way to the truck. Normally, I would turn away and let him get in without me watching him, but since he was in that truck and stiff for hours, I keep my eyes on him so that in case he falls, I can help him. But he gets in the cab without issue.
Flop walks over to me, jerking his chin in my direction. “You’re following us to the clubhouse?” he asks.
“I’ll follow you there, and then Scar is going to help get everyone situated, but once you’re through the gates, I’m heading to that wedding. Figure there’s enough firepower there we can get shit done.”
“Is there a way I can go with?” Flop asks. “I’m down for a little action after what they did. I feel like a pussy.”
I can understand that, and moreover, I can respect it. “I think you can follow me. But you’re gonna have to get a cage or something. No way am I letting you ride on my bike with me.”
He snorts. “I’m not riding bitch with anyone ever. I would rather walk. I got a cage.”
We separate, he gets in the front of the truck, and I say goodbye to the women and Screamer before locking them back inside the truck. I straddle my bike and bring it to life as Flop shifts the truck into Drive, and they take off… somewhat slowly, trying to be careful with the passengers.
It takes longer than I would like to get back to the clubhouse, and as much as I want to rush this shit, I also know that I don’t want anyone to be hurt in the process, either, at least on our end.
When we finally reach the clubhouse, the gates open, though I can tell that the guard looks confused as fuck at the sight of the truck coming back. I lift my hand, waving to him as I ride down the gravel and dirt road.
Flop doesn’t bother finding a parking spot anywhere. He parks that bitch right in the middle of our parking lot. I laugh as I watch him fiddle around with the truck, and finally, he kills the engine.
Scar calls out to me as he walks out of the clubhouse, Daisy and Ice close behind him, surprisingly for them, somewhat covered up in short jean shorts and T-shirts.
They don’t even look in my direction as they’re rushing past me toward the back of the truck, and Flop meets them there to open up the back.
“Flop wants to come with me, but I gotta know, since I’ve been out of the loop, why the fuck would they do this?” I ask.
Scar flicks his gaze past me to Screamer and the women likely climbing down from the box truck. When his eyes shift back to meet mine, I can see the concern clearly etched on his face before he speaks.
“I don’t know. I wish I did, and I can’t imagine Bullet would know either, except all I can think of is this is some play for control. Paul was the one who insisted on this run on this day.”
“I don’t trust that fucker,” I grind out.
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s marrying your woman?” Shocker asks.
Narrowing my eyes on him, I jerk my chin in his direction as he slowly makes his way toward us.
“Not my woman,” I state.
It’s a lie I keep telling myself, but it’s a fucking dirty one, because nobody believes me when I say it.
“Are you going to bring her home?” Shocker asks.
I turn my head, my gaze sliding over to my bike, then the clubhouse, before shifting back to meet his own. I think about those words, about that question. If I get on my bike right now, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to bring her here—home.
And I’m going to keep her.
I won’t have the choice but to keep her for myself. I don’t think Piggy would let me just take her away from Paul, break the contract, and not keep her. I doubt he’ll even give me the choice. Lainey will be mine.
I have to really weigh that shit.
Then my lips twitch into a smirk at the thought of it. At the idea of Lainey-Rose being in my bed every fucking morning, her sexy-as-shit body, her curly blond hair on my pillow. Her soft body pressed against mine.
Fuck me, but yeah, I could get used to that shit.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “I’m bringing Lainey home.”
Shocker chuckles, then he lifts his arm, and I feel his fingers curl around my shoulder, jerking it slightly. His gaze never leaves mine. I can tell by the look on his weathered face that he’s happy. This is what he wants. He wants us all to find our women, our peace—our home.
And I’ve found that in Lainey, even though it took me a long-as-fuck time fighting it.
I don’t want to fight anymore.
I just want Lainey.
LAINEY
“You may kiss your bride.”
Those words fill me with dread. I’m not sure why, because I’ve kissed him before, and it’s been nice. I mean, I did not complain when his lips and tongue were between my legs. I liked it, and I should want to kiss him.
He’s my husband.
As he leans down, shifting closer, his mouth touches mine. I expect him to just give me a chaste kiss, but his tongue slides across the seam of my lips before he lifts his head and straightens his shoulders.
I blink, unsure of what to do next, but at the same time so damn scared that I don’t know what the hell is going on. He turns to face the guests, and I do the same. I look out at everyone, but I don’t see anything. Nothing. Every person who looks back at me is nothing but a blur.
I can’t even make out my own brother in the crowd. My heart slams against my ribs as Paul laces his fingers with mine, then lifts our hands in the air. I lift my other hand in the air, the one holding the ugly bouquet, as the crowd claps for us.
It’s real.
It happened.
Together, we lower our hands, then walk down the aisle as the guests stand, continuing their clapping. I see none of them. They are just blurs of dresses, hair, and suits. Nothing more, nothing less.
When we step out of the church, I expect the bright sun to blind me, but it’s not so bright after all. It’s sliding down, though not setting just yet. And now I’m married. Married to someone who isn’t Gunnar Lund. When I lay my head down tonight, I won’t be looking into his blue eyes… ever again.
Paul stops walking, and I watch as a black car pulls up. It’s a fancy sedan. I don’t even know what kind, but I can tell it’s expensive just by the looks of it. I watch a man get out of the driver’s side, then walk around the front and open the back door for us to slip inside.
He dips his chin as a silent invitation to move forward and climb into the back seat. I don’t move, not a single inch, but Paul does. He takes one step forward, then another, before he dips down and steps into the car. He tugs me forward a bit.
My feet become unstuck. But when his hand falls from mine and it’s up to me to climb in behind him, I’m not sure I can. Every move I make feels extremely final. Like this is just cementing everything.
And climbing into the back of that car beside this man, it’s more permanent than just cement.
I don’t know what it would be, but that’s what it is.
My breathing comes out in short pants while I try not to pass out.
My eyes search Paul’s, who is waiting patiently for me as if he knows what I’m wrestling with.
My brain fights the urge my body has to run away. Far, far away. To him. Straight to Gunnar. But that would be beyond fruitless. Lines in the sand have been drawn, and being with Gunnar, or rather him claiming me, is one of them.
Shaking my head once, I shake away all thoughts of the past. No matter how sad they make me, how much I wish I could transport myself back to him, it’s time to move forward. Even if that means I’m losing a piece of myself, or rather the entire person I once was.
When I sink down next to Paul, he reaches for my hand, curling his fingers around mine before he touches his lips to my cheek. Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment, letting it burn inside my chest again before I let it out slowly as he speaks.
His lips shift to my ear, and then I feel his warm breath there before he speaks. I’m not sure if I should be revolted by his hot breath washing over my skin or not, but I’m not. It makes me feel sadness but not revulsion…
Which makes me feel consumed with guilt.