CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

“Where else would I go but where she is..." – Hawk

 

 

 

 

"I might just get on my knees and thank Him now for what I am about to receive." He might be Priest by name, but there was nothing holy in Preacher's diabolical naughty smile.

Ruby's insides turned to jelly.

Before she pounced on him.

Entertaining a bunch of Priests for the whole day was tiring yet so much fun, Ruby had never been around family that genuinely loved and enjoyed each other's company before, the weather was scorching in the high nineties with just a fast rain shower mid-afternoon, they’d stayed outside most of the time and grilled mass amounts of marinade meat, played games, the Rookies game turned on the TV for the boys, Birdie, and Maxwell had brought Sebastian one of those inflatable pools he’d loved and while Ruby had basked in the newness of a family day, luxuriating in the small touches Preacher had laid on her lower back, her nape, the side of her face whenever they were in touching distance, it was the cause of her arousal most of the damn day, and that colossal former lothario knew just what he’d done to her, what with his saucy smirks he flashed her way and that evil wink of his. Beloved bastard.

If she didn’t love his cock so much she’d abstain as punishment.

Naturally, the minute everyone had piled into the car and driven off, a very sleepy Seb, exhausted from his exciting day, was bathed and tucked into bed, falling fast asleep mid Dr Seuss, she’d attacked Preacher in the kitchen, the door closed, she could be as loud as she wanted to be.

Holding her around the waist, both hands on her butt, grinding her to his erection, their kiss was feral, deep and savage as they tore into each other, shredding clothes. She was going to have the indentation of the kitchen island in her spine for a while, but she didn’t care, she needed him like a fucking gust of air through her lungs. She loved when he turned her inside out, made her crazy to climb him and impale herself. The position didn’t give her much room to move, but Christ, she worked with what she had. We’re newlyweds, Ruby, attack me whenever you want to, I'm ready. He’d told her when she’d confessed just how frantic he made her, there was too much desire, too much heat, what else could she do but pour it into him.

So, she did. Right there in the kitchen among the debris of the BBQ, plates everywhere, empty beer bottles scattered on the table top, the sink piled high with dirty dishes, the details around them didn't matter, she was obsessed with his body, each glance during the day had added into her prolonged arousal, addicted to the feel of his piercing going in and out of her, and she was going to have all of him right now.

“Fucking hell.” He groaned when she reached into his jeans and pulled his thick cock free, rolling him in her palm, paying attention to the row of metal on the underside, making Preacher’s eyes roll into the back of his head. She laughed like a champion, she was doing that to him, that erotic groan was all hers.

She did it again, making the tip leak over her fingertips and he cursed the air blue.

 

 

 

******

 

 

Zara was downstairs in the kitchen with the door closed while Rider was in their bedroom upstairs recklessly packing for them. Ordinarily, she would have done it, her eyebrow was twitching imagining him throwing in mismatched underwear and shirts that wouldn't go with any of her pants, but she'd needed him out of the way for five minutes so she’d played on feeling nauseous for her biker-man to jump into action and insist he did the packing while she rested. He was so sweet and so easy to play on his doting daddy-to-be fraught nerves.

They didn't have secrets as per their own agreement plus advice from her therapist, so this was serious, a necessary omission of the truth because she'd decided she wouldn't tell him anything that was about to occur in their kitchen. Mainly because she wasn't altogether certain what she was doing meant anything, only that she had a crazy female intuition feeling. She’d want to know, was her way of justifying her subterfuge. She'd have a lot to confide at her next therapy session.

"He won't be interested, Icy. Why would he?" Rider had scowled when she'd asked him casually if he was going to call and let Hawk know, his brow more furrowed than usual with worry. Because he was the VP and Rider would be away from the club for a couple of days, she'd used as an explanation.

What could she say; I really think you should tell Hawk, and not because of the club. Because I think he'd be really interested on a personal level because I saw something on his face one time months ago for a split second and I'm jumping to huge conclusions. Yeahhhh, that wouldn't look absurd at all and it would only cause Rider to hiss and spit.

She paced from stove to counter, worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, absently listening to the heavy footsteps up above.

Her concerned biker-man was troubled. She was worried, the sooner they got to the airport the better they'd both feel.

"Oh, just get it over with." She huffed in a self-chastising whisper, taking a seat at the kitchen table decorated in a posy of spring flowers of pinks and yellows. Throughout every room now was her own personal stamp on their house, her biker-man was so laid back he didn't give a damn what she did to the house as long as she was in it. As he'd told her; Do whatever the fuck you want, Icy. It's you I want here, don't care what pillows you throw on the couch. God, she loved that man so much.

And it was because she loved the man, and his sister, she pressed a few buttons on her phone and listened to the ringing tone in her ear. Her heart a steady beat hoping to get this over with before Rider stomped down the stairs.

She'd blame it on pregnancy hormones.

God, she still couldn't quite believe it, she was having a baby. A biker-man baby at that. She smiled to herself, the baby would probably be pushed out cursing the air just like his daddy.

Putting her hand over the flat of her abdomen, already protecting what was nestled inside. They hadn’t been trying … actively … but hadn’t prevented it either, what with a bout of flu weeks ago, she’d been down for a few days in misery and sleep and forgot to take her pill. Rider said it was meant to be that way, that and his super sperm. What an ego her biker-man had.

Happiness came in many forms, it began by being brought into the light by a group of men not known for their kindness, but had been nothing but sweet to Zara from day one, she adored those Renegade Souls boys like they were her blood family, and the happiness hadn’t stopped there, second with Rider, he had given her everything, and it continued to grow bigger, better, brighter now with the promise of their new baby. It was because of her unwavering loyalty to the Renegade Souls she was making this call at all.

The ringing went on and on, fully prepared to leave a message if it sent her to voicemail, Zara was startled by the gruff voice on the other end. She hadn't heard that voice in more than eight months, the last time being the same night he'd killed a man to save her.

"Hel'o." He rasped.

"Hawk? It's Zara. Eh…Rider's Zara." Like he wouldn't know who she was, she rolled eyes nervously.

"I’m guessing Rider's been taken prisoner or he fell and broke his neck if you're the one to call me, girl," he called her girl, it was a thing, and she found it oddly cute. The others called her Z-girl, and she was Rider’s Icy. Soon she was going to be Mom.

She smiled to herself. Surprisingly, it wasn't only Rider and the boys who missed Hawk, she missed seeing that enormous grump, the clubhouse wasn't the same without his moody shadow skulking around glowering at everyone, especially her. Hawk always looked at her like he assumed she was carrying a live culture of the black plague in her pocket.

"No, nothing like that, Rider is fine, he's packing and----"

"Packing for what?" Hawk interrupted, his voice very serious, but then Zara had never heard him be anything but serious.

"We have to go to Texas. That's why I'm calling." She hedged and played with the corner of the pale lemon tablecloth she'd bought from Target just this last weekend. Helen, Uncle Jed's wife, called it the nesting syndrome. Zara didn't know anything about that, she just liked the tablecloth and wanted the house to look nice. "I know it's none of my business, and I don't want to know anything, don’t think I’m asking, so, anyway." Ramble thy name is Zara.

"Spit it out, girl. Not getting any younger. Does Ri know you're calling me?"

"Actually." Considering the lie was just there she went for the less complicated route and told the truth, her tongue worked itself down from the roof of her mouth, too many secrets already. "No, and I'd prefer it that way because ... well, he said you wouldn't be interested in knowing, but I ... listen, Hawk, Gia is in the hospital."

On the other end, she heard Hawk take a loud inhale and knew right then in that second, she'd made the right decision. Without knowing the facts or the whys, and it was probably best, being Rider's old lady and loyal first to him she didn't want a secret of Hawk's, because Zara had a sneaking suspicion Rider would get to know whatever this was, one day, and all hell would break lose, hopefully they had their baby by then and it would calm her biker-man into not killing his best friend.

"What? What happened? Is she ... " There was true fear in Hawk's voice now.

Zara rushed on. Hearing feet up above. Rider would be down any second.

"No, nothing like that, but her appendix burst at work, and she's having surgery as we speak, after that she should be absolutely fine and won't be in the hospital too long. Rider and I are heading to the airport, her parents are with her. I just ... I just thought you'd want to know, Hawk."

Dead air.

And it went on.

And on.

Until Zara cleared her throat, sure he'd hung up on her.

"Hawk?"

"Yeah, girl. I heard.”

“So. Anyway. That was all. I need to go. Bye, Hawk.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

In that moment, Zara’s heart squeezed in her chest, it had been the right move but felt shitty to deliver that kind of news. Whether Hawk cared, or he cared, he sounded disturbed.

She began to press the red disconnect, when---

“Girl?”

“Yeah? I’m still here, Hawk.” Did he want her to pass on a message to Gia, maybe?

“Thanks.” And he hung up.

Just as well, and great timing, she thought, as Rider barreled his tall self through the kitchen doorway, his face a tight stern mask. “Ready to go, Icy?”

“Yeah. Hold up, honey.” She was already grabbing her purse, they wouldn’t need much, just a day or two of overnight clothes, once they’d heard about Gia’s surgery it was a done decision to take a trip, Rider was too worried about his baby sister to rely on relayed messages to find out about her condition. Hopefully, by the time they got to Texas, everything would be alright.

Remembering to text Angela, Zara felt bad they were going to miss her birthday this weekend, she would be fifteen, and being the first since she lost her parents Zara had planned a whole big thing for her. Soon as they were back, she’d spoil the girl shopping together.

As it was, she was nervous due to more than just worrying over Gia. It would be the first-time Zara was meeting his parents.  And from all accounts, Rider’s father was a difficult man. She went to him, leaned up and cupped his cheeks, his head fell forward to compensate their size difference, stroking his beard, she kissed his lips, once, twice, falling in love with him all over again. “Gia is going to be okay, biker-man.” Sharing a few moments with him in their own little oasis, Zara looped arms around his waist.

Rider drew in a breath, resting his forehead against hers, she smiled and kissed him lightly again. “Love you, Icy.”

“Yeah, you do.” She grinned and laced their fingers. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

 

******

 

 

Across in Louisiana, the heat was blazing hot, but Hawk didn’t notice the clammy warmth or the sweat dripping into his eyes, the dead muscle inside his chest busy restarting making him move before he even realized a single step. Striding through the NOLA chapter clubhouse, into the room he’d been using as his own, he had his backpack pulled out of the closet and he began stuffing clothes into it with no care of how he did it.

It took him precisely three minutes to have his shit together, he found Shark in his office, letting the southern Renegade Souls president know he was taking off.

They shook hands briefly, while he hated the dirty town, the prez had been a fair man taking him in as he had, he would have tried to convey his gratitude for a few minutes longer if his heart wasn’t already lodged in his fucking throat, he had no patience to stand around and talk bullshit he couldn’t give a shit about.

He was on his bike a minute later. Gunning the engine. His mind and eyes focused on one thing only.

He’d arrive in Texas around eight and half-hours’ time if traffic was on his side.

Goddamn, the one time he'd ask for divine intervention.

The little bit of a thing was hurt.

She was fucking hurting and having surgery.

Now he felt like a total heel for how he’d spoken to her recently. Weeks had gone by and she hadn’t reached out again. He’d thought it was for the best, even as his mood plummeted harder into the dirt, he felt like shit, he should have called her sooner to apologize but he hadn’t been able to find the words. He’d been a fucking tool.  

It was for the best, he supposed and other fucking lies he rammed down his own throat. 

And yet he was speeding off to Texas to be nearby, he had no other choice, his fucking body was dragging him there even as his mind was screaming.

No other choice. He repeated over and over. He had to make sure for himself Gia was going to be alright.

She would never know he was there. No one would know.

He’d stick around only for a while to make sure he decided an hour into his grueling journey, he wouldn't fucking sleep ever again if there was a chance Gia wasn't going to be fine.

She wouldn’t need to know.

He could keep a discreet watch on her without interfering in her life.

Yeah, he fed that lie to himself like it was fucking chocolate pudding, eat it, you dipshit, choke on the fucking lie.

After all, Hawk was all about the selfless.

It had nothing to do with him being fucking addicted to the little bit.

Not that.

Nah. Hawk was a fucking selfless savior, practically a saint. Where were his wings?

Staying out of the way undetected wouldn’t be a problem, it wasn't his first spy rodeo.

As much as Hawk was lying and telling himself he’d move on, head to the opposite end of the country away from Texas, hell, he could go back to Colorado, no one was pointing a finger at him for Hades’ disappearance, he could easily go home, he should go home, being around his club brothers was what kept him stable most of the time, but as he rode at breakneck speeds, weaving his Harley in and out of vehicles, taking in none of the scenery, his mind only on one five foot five package of Greek heritage, he’d already stationed himself mentally in Texas. His mind was there, he just had to get his fucking body to join it.

He had always been heading there, he just hadn't admitted it to himself.

This day was as inevitable as the night he killed someone when he was eleven years old. Hawk had been out running himself ever since.

Some things, even murder, was cast in stone from his birth for some unlucky fucker like him, he couldn't say he won the DNA lottery and he was no love-match, not for Gia or anyone. 

Hawk had always known it would take only one event to get him closer to Gia.

His Gia being sick? Fucking monumental event he couldn’t ignore. As it was, his gut was burning like corroded acid, he needed to piss like a camel and he was starving, but he wouldn’t stop until he had to refuel in a couple of hours’ time.

Couldn’t stop riding, not until he’d stormed through Henry Memorial hospital to check for himself little bit was still breathing.

Through his phone and earbuds, he listened to Metallica to quieten the noise of his own head.

Realistically he knew she’d be fine, she was in the best care, Rider, if no one else, would kick up a stink to make sure his baby sister got the best doctors, he was an overbearing dickhead like that, but where Gia was concerned, Hawk didn’t deal in realism or logic, his vision was a kaleidoscope of unrealistic obsession for a woman he could so easily ruin if he allowed himself to have her.

He was a mortal man with more flaws than bones, shackled to a fantasy of his own nightmare making.

Couldn’t get close to her. Wouldn’t.

But he’d be near. Letting himself lick the air of his fixation, but no more than that.

Keeping an eye on her … until.

Yeah, he thought, feeling like the biggest jerk. Until.

 

 

 

 

******

 

 

 

“As much as the filthy verbal foreplay is doing it for me, how about you just climb on up here and ride me, beautiful? Get your hands on me. Anything. Something. Fucking rip my clothes off if you feel the need to. Tease me, give me a reason to give it to you rough." Preacher groaned around the edges of their kiss, his breath fanning her lips, she laughed but kept right on licking her tongue into his mouth.

"God. What an animal you are. Hold still." He wanted his clothes torn? She took hold of both sides of his blue denim shirt and parted it swiftly, sending buttons flying. The stunned lusted look on his face made it worthwhile ruining his shirt. "I always wanted to do that. It was better than I imagined." Wearing a black wifebeater underneath she lifted it to reveal the hard planes of his ribbed belly and chest, fingers drawing circles over each sexy sculpted bump. Mine. All mine. "This you'll have to take off yourself like a big boy. Do it slowly, let me watch."

The torn shirt was discarded onto the floor, fast followed by the fitted undershirt hastily yanked over his head.

Preacher stalked forward and that was exactly how she felt; stalked, she was pure gooseflesh. Eyes so dark now the green almost washed out by his pupils, the lust in there was unimaginable that it was all for her, her gaze roamed and she clocked the thick outline of his cock through the pants.

Ruby shivered, let him stalk her, her feet backing up and backing up, his gaze challenging, it was as if her body was under his command. "Tell me how badly you need it from me."

"I need it." Immediate answer. She wore only panties and bra, no point in lying that she didn't want fucking.

"Tell me how badly, Ruby."

"I want to be fucked stupid, I want it so badly I'm thinking of pushing you down and impaling myself on your long, thick cock." How was that for honesty? She heaved in oxygen, watched her truth pour molten lava into his gaze.

This passion was technicolor, she saw everything vividly.

He reached out, grasped the tops of her arms, pulling her in until she was up against his smattering of chest hair. Nothing had ever felt this good and real before.

"I'm going to give it to you." He teased. A hand slid around to her butt, pushed into the back of her panties and squeezed her ass cheeks almost to the point of pain, Ruby moaned and bumped her hips into his wanting more, her pelvic core vibrating, anticipating the first shove home, how he would stretch her out, make her take it by whispering sweet dirty endearments in her ear. "And when I've made you come as hard as you've ever come before, my sweet wet Ruby, and your darling little pussy is quaking from the blast of my climax rocking the tender walls." She sucked in a breath, could picture that clearly. Hungered for it. My man can out-dirty talk your man. Her nails left half-moon crescents on his forearms, kissing his chest she bit his nipple and was satisfied at his grunt. "Then you will get your chance to climb your gorgeous body over me and impale yourself on my cock. Got it?" There was no other way to describe it other than Preacher’s lust goaded hers. One look from him and she was readily wet.

"Yes." She panted. She couldn't think of a better word than yes.

Yes, fuck me. Yes, love me. Yes, to everything he offered in the depths of his gaze as he pulled her in, held her face and kissed her softly. Yes, Preacher.

Ruby was no longer that faltering woman living life on the borders, forever missing out on the good and the perfect, she was now living it.

She was Mrs, Asher Priest and she was saying yes.

To everything.

To life, to love and to the love of her life.

Yes, to her Preacher man.