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Leash: Delinquent Rebels MC by Kathryn Thomas (31)

 

April hadn’t been back to the Palmer estate in almost four days—and she didn’t care in the slightest. Sure, she’d left the cabin to run errands; there was almost no food or personal items once they’d gone through everything on the first day—and she and Van had taken a number of hikes around the semi-frozen lake together. She’d tried, to the best of her ability, to keep things platonic: no snuggling, cuddling, or spooning. It proved a little more challenging, however, when he kissed her, because that always led them down a road upon which April’s brakes were useless.

 

Luckily for her, Van still had a number of things on his mind, one of which was the meeting he’d thrown together with some of the power-players in the motorcycle club down at his bar. The place was closed for the night—for a special event, according to the sign on the door—and all of Van’s staff had agreed to keep his appearance on the down-low. They knew what type of man he was, and he wasn’t the type to carry drugs for anyone. But, to keep those who knew about Van’s presence in Cascade Falls to a minimum, there was a skeleton crew making the drinks and prepping the appetizers. April even helped with the serving so Van had less to worry about.

 

The meeting had gone well. It didn’t surprise her that the kind of guys Van had called were eager to put James Palmer in his place. They’d been sitting there quietly for years, trying to ignore all the behind-the-scenes bullshit that went on at the club—a group they genuinely loved being a member of, but no more. Apparently, turning on one’s kid was enough to send them over the edge.

 

Rabbit had been called back for one final job: find the evidence Van needed to prove his innocence. April suggested the man look around the Palmer estate to get the proof that James had framed him, maybe even nabbing the security cam footage in the garage where Van’s bike had been waiting for him that morning, to which Rabbit grumbled that he didn’t need help, especially from her, when it came to getting the job done. The April from a few months ago would have slunk off, frightened of a man like Rabbit. This April, however, had merely smiled and waved him off, immune to his antics.

 

“You call me if you need anything,” Ken Grisham remarked, patting Van on the arm, as the crowd of older bikers drifted to the door. It was getting close to midnight, and the meeting had been going since nine. After they’d come to the consensus that it was time to pull a Julius Caesar and oust their dictator, the men decided to call it a night. April stood next to Van, smiling at the few old grizzly bears who’d offered her a polite good night as they passed by.

 

“Will do, Ken.” Van gave the man an appreciative smile, and they waited until the last were out. In the background, the few bar staff working started clearing bottles and glasses off the tables, and April hastily followed Van toward the stairs after he wandered away.

 

“I think that went well,” she said, hurrying up after him. “I mean, they’re on your side, if anything.”

 

“Yeah, but they’ll only do something once we have the proof. We need to get that first, then they’ll publically support me when I kick my dad off his stupid throne.” He didn’t exactly sound tired, but he wasn’t operating at one hundred percent either. April couldn’t blame him. All of this was stressful enough, never mind the fact that, as of this moment, there were police officers out there hunting him, trying to put him back in a cage he didn’t belong in.

 

Once they were in his upstairs office, a tiny room stacked high with boxes of files, paperwork, and a brand new computer coated in a layer of dust, Van locked the door and leaned back against it with a smile.

 

“Come here,” he said, beckoning her to him with a slight nod of his head. She swallowed thickly, heat rising to her cheeks when she caught the hungry look in his eye. Here? He wanted to do that here? Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms and shook her head.

 

“Van, we have to stop this.”

 

He arched an eyebrow. “Stop what?”

 

“This,” she emphasized as she pointed between them. “All the… you know...”

 

“Fucking?”

 

Her blush darkened.

 

“Yes, the fucking.” She stood a little taller, proud that her voice hadn’t shook. “It’s just muddying the waters, and you have enough to think about.”

 

His head tilted back as he observed her, and after a long moment of silence, he cleared his throat and said, “Did you fall out of love with me while I was locked up?”

 

The question threw her for a total loop, and April staggered back to sit in his cushy chair. Did he know his words were like a punch straight to the gut? That he’d winded her with just a simple—and yet not simple—question?

 

“No,” she whispered, feeling it better to be honest than to spare his feelings. Maybe they owed it to one another to be honest at this point anyway. “I didn’t.”

 

The response made his lips twitch, but he kept his expression neutral, like he was hiding a smile. “Good.”

 

“Did you fall in love with me while you were in there?” she asked after another brief pause, turning the spotlight around onto him. He shook his head.

 

“No. I loved you before I went in there.”

 

April let out a soft breath, once again winded by his words. They’d already caused each other enough pain—what was the point of denying what they both wanted now? Who would it help if she pretended she didn’t want him? Clearly, she’d already failed to keep her distance from him, just as she had failed to keep her distance when she first arrived at the start of the summer. Why change course now?

 

Why couldn’t she just let herself be happy and trust that things would work out? Distancing herself for Van’s sake seemed like nothing more than a pathetic excuse.

 

“April?” She looked up sharply at the sound of his voice, the depressing fog that had slowly clouded her vision cleared—and there was Van. Waiting for her. Patiently. He nodded to her again. “Come here.”

 

She stayed still for a long moment, knowing that this was a precipice that she ought not to cross. Her mind knew that there was the chance they could be separated again, that James could emerge triumphant—that someone could lock her away for helping Van hide from the law.

 

But in the end, she didn’t care. Not a single bit. All she saw was Van, offering her the same smile he had that night long ago, as they stood at the foot of the wooden bridge. Behind them, after-prom was well underway. Ahead of them was the guest cottage. The same excited tingle that had urged her forward then got her onto her feet now—and pushed her onward. Her heart hurt—and she was done trying to suture a broken heart that wouldn’t heal.

 

Van drew her into his arms once she was near, turning so that he pressed her back against the door. Closing her eyes, she smiled at the soft butterfly kisses he placed along her cheek, her jawline, her neck. It was the familiar first few steps of a dance that she never wanted to stop, and her fingers wove through his hair, pulling him close. His body warmed her. His kiss soothed away the fears. His hand slipped between them, cupping her, rubbing her, encouraging the heat between her thighs, and April let out a heady sigh.

 

This was what she wanted. It was time to let herself want, let herself need. No more restrictions. She was with him until this thing was done, one way or another.

 

The hiss he gave as he pushed into her wet heat, his cock stretching her inner walls, filling her in a way that was just right, sent a shiver through her body. Pressed up against the door, April wrapped her legs around him and kissed his lips and his neck, as she clung to his shoulders. Sometimes they were gentle with one another, but not tonight. No, tonight he took her harshly, feverishly, like a mad man finally getting his first taste of sanity—and he couldn’t let go. Like her, Van let himself be free, his emotions written brazenly across his face.

 

“April…” His soft whisper made her smile, and she nodded, tears welling as she studied him. He didn’t need to tell her again, but he did. He murmured declarations of love against her skin, the sweet words a contrast to his harsh thrusts, and April reveled in both.

 

“I know,” she murmured back. “Me too…”

 

They climaxed within moments of each other, first April, then Van, but even then they stayed together, wrapped in one another’s arms, unwilling to let go.

 

Not until it was absolutely necessary. Until they had no other choice to part.

 

And April dreaded the day.

 

***

In order to avoid suspicion, both Van and April agreed that she ought to go back to the Palmer estate, even if it was only for one night. After all, she was technically in Cascade Falls to see her mom, and the fact that she’d been away for almost a week already was bound to raise some questions. So, after the meeting at the bar, April dropped Van off at the safe house outside of town. A hood and hat hid his face the whole ride there, and then she headed back to the place she least wanted to be in the whole world, her mind reeling.

 

After all, she and Van had just confessed their love for one another. They hadn’t had the “we should keep things casual” talk that they should have had, and instead they seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into dark, dangerous—but also romantic and thrilling—waters. In a way, it felt right, like she finally had the confidence that they could actually swim this time, like neither she nor Van were destined to drown just because they admitted their feelings. Van belonged to her, just as she belonged to him. They were tied together by more than just family now, and there was a fight brewing in her. She wasn’t about to let him go now.

 

But as soon as she was back on that familiar road leading up to Van’s childhood home, a fear gripped her that she couldn’t shake. It eased somewhat when she spied Rabbit’s truck parked up the road, and although she didn’t actually see the man anywhere, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was somewhere on the property. Maybe he’d followed her suggestions after all. There was no way James would let April root around the house or the garage without demanding to know what she was doing, but if he didn’t suspect someone might be snooping…

 

A small smile touched her lips, as she pulled into the driveway—though it dropped quickly when she saw a flurry of lights flicker to life in all the windows at her arrival. At this time of the night, usually her mom would have been asleep, but since April had been gone for so long, she couldn’t help but wonder if everyone was waiting up for her.

 

She’d left her overnight bag at the safe house. If she hadn’t carried it out with her after the Thanksgiving dinner for “drinks with friends”, she wasn’t about to bring it back in. It only occurred to her as she approached the front door that she wasn’t wearing the same clothes, but she could smooth that one over easily enough: girls gave their friends a spare change of clothes all the time. She could—and planned to—say that the jeans and sweater she was currently wearing were borrowed.

 

April hadn’t made it more than two feet into the foyer before James was on her. He seemed to materialize out of nowhere, grabbing her arm and slamming her back against the front door. She bit her lip, the image of Van pushing her against another door earlier that night flashing across her mind, and she tried not to smile at the thought.

 

“Where have you been?” he spat, his words dripping with venom, spittle hitting her face. She flinched back, her nose wrinkling. “Take a trip over to the federal facility, huh?” His grip tightened, his face warped in rage, and April tried not to wince. “See a certain someone and maybe help him escape—“

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” She did her best to incorporate as much rage into her voice as James did. “I was visiting friends. A bunch of them were in town for Thanksgiving, and we decided to spend a few days together.”

 

He gave her a little shake, and her eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a fucking simpleton to you, April? Van broke out of prison the same week you arrive—“

 

“What?!” No one had ever complimented April on her acting skills, but she thought she was decent for the heat of the moment. “Van escaped?! Where is he? Is he okay? Why are you here and not with the police? He’d never do that!”

 

“Oh, spare me,” he growled, and she swore his fingertips had worked their way down to her bone. “I know you were behind all this—“

 

“April!”

 

James slowly released her at the sound of her mom’s voice, and she scuttled away as fast as she could toward the woman descending the nearby staircase.

 

“Where have you been?” her mom demanded, dragging her into a hug as soon as she was physically near enough to do so. April returned it, a shard of guilt stabbing at her for leaving that poor woman alone with James for so long. What the hell was he even capable of doing when no one was looking?

 

“I was visiting friends,” April said, her voice wobbly at the thought of lying to her. “Didn’t you get my messages?”

 

No!” She huffed noisily in April’s ear, her breath blowing some of April’s thin hair out as she spoke. “Van’s broken out of prison! It’s a nightmare!”

 

“I know,” she said, as she pulled back, taking in the genuine anguish on her mom’s face over the news. “James just told me. I can’t… I can’t believe it.”

 

“Oh, honey, I know.” Her mom pushed her hair back and cradled April’s face in her hands. “You… You didn’t have anything to do with his escape, did you?”

 

She feigned a scandalized look, as James prowled around in the background. “Mom!”

 

“I just need to make sure,” the woman insisted, her eyes a little watery. “I mean, if you did, you could go to prison for aiding an escaped felon, and I couldn’t stand the thought of my baby—“

 

“I promise you,” April said, slowing her words down to calm her mom, who seemed on the verge of hysterics. “I had nothing to do with his escape.”

 

Which, in a way, was technically true. She had been the one to encourage Rabbit to finally accept the job, apparently, but she hadn’t physically gone to the prison and cut the hole in the fence. If anything, April had been a muse, and she could live with that.

 

“Maybe I should have the police over here anyway,” James suggested, and both women shot him a narrowed look. “I’m sure they’d like to take your statement.”

 

“Oh, yes, by all means,” April fired back, trying her hardest not to seethe, “bring them by. Maybe they can talk to you, too. I don’t know… Ask you some questions. I hear the police are pretty excited to catch James Palmer doing something—“

 

“April,” her mom admonished, as she placed a hand on her arm, the soft touch reeling her back in. “James. That’s enough. I’m sure the police will want to talk to us. We don’t need to bring them here and accuse each other of anything outlandish, do we?”

 

April’s hand pressed to her forehead, and she let out a long, weary sigh, all the while wondering if her mom knew more about James’s criminal activity than she was willing to let on.

 

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes darted between her mom and James, as if they were both included in her phony apology. “I’m just… so tired, and this is a lot to take in.”

 

“I know, honey.”

 

“Maybe we can talk about it in the morning?” she suggested, to which her mom nodded.

 

“Everything is clearer in the mornings,” the woman said, smiling. “That’s what my mom always used to say.”

 

Unable to help herself, she pulled her mom back in for another hug, squeezing a little harder this time. “I love you,” she whispered. It’d be over soon. Rabbit had to find something on James, and when he did, Van would kick him off his haughty throne with the help of the guys from the club. But James was good. He’d been doing this for years, covering his tracks and all. She had no idea how long it would take until Rabbit managed to get any dirt on him, and she wanted her mom out of this marriage yesterday.

 

“I love you too, honey,” her mom murmured, easing back and cupping her cheek. “You look exhausted. Off to bed.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” April said with a chuckle. She then turned and hurried up the stairs, heading straight for the guest bedroom to spend a nerve-wracking night alone in James Palmer’s house—a night when he must have sensed something was afoot, regardless of her acting abilities. After firing a text to Van’s new disposable cell phone, she bolted the door and pushed the chest at the end of the bed in front of it.

 

Then, after climbing into bed, fell into a restless, lonely sleep, desperate for the day when she could freely curl up next to Van and know that everyone in her life, herself included, was safe and sound.

 

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