Chapter Sixteen
Ripper thought long and hard. Sitting at her bedside, he’d thought about Em all night and all morning. He thought about how Em could’ve been injured worse or killed, thought about how she still managed to look beautiful with dried blood matting her hair, suffering from a gunshot wound and a concussion. Quite frankly, it wasn’t fair to other women. He thought about how he’d stupidly asked her to marry him, and the fact she hadn’t given him an answer. He knew asking her was a long shot—one he took because he almost lost her, one he took because now he’d fight to get all of her. Though not getting a response made him think he shouldn’t have asked.
She kept giving herself to him, but she hid it from everyone, even Bree who’d no doubt be thrilled her parents were together. All those years ago, Em used to be affectionate, touching him, grabbing him, kissing him, constantly. Now, any time they were around anyone else, and he made a move toward her, she looked hesitant, sometimes even scared. There was a time when she should’ve been afraid. When he’d found her and Bree, he’d been an asshole, but he’d changed his tune that night she told him the reason she left. All of this led him to think she didn’t love him, so it’d been senseless to ask her to marry him. He scolded himself all night, all morning while he woke Bree, who slept in a cot in Em’s hospital room because she refused to leave them. He scolded himself while he got Bree ready and until he dropped her off at school. Since then, he’d only thought about what Bree said.
Ripper hadn’t wanted to leave Em even though she’d still been asleep, even though a couple of his brothers stayed to keep an eye out. But he left because he needed to take Bree to the compound and get her ready. He did amazingly considering Em always handled it. Like usual, he walked her to her classroom, his mind still on her mom. He kissed her forehead and promised to be back to pick her up.
She looked at him, a gorgeous smile in place, and said, “Mommy loves you, Daddy. I know she does.”
The breath froze in the back of his throat as his stomach hollowed out then rolled. “W-what?”
“Mommy. She loves you.”
He swallowed. “How do you know that?”
“I know, Daddy. I just do.”
He knelt in front of her and threaded his fingers through her hair as blonde and as thick as her mother’s. “Baby, you’re too young to know something like that.”
“I’m not, Daddy. I know. Mommy used to tell me stories about you. She told me how much she loves you.”
His chest tightened. “She told you she loves me?”
Bree nodded.
It couldn’t be, just couldn’t. Why didn’t she want to marry him then? She must’ve lied to Bree, must’ve wanted their daughter to think she loved her dad.
“What’s wrong with you, brother?”
Ripper lifted his head and caught Strike’s gaze. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the ground after his set of bench presses thinking about what Bree said.
“Thought you’d be done by now. Saw you come in here a couple of hours ago.”
Had it been that long? He ran for a while then moved on to weights, but his head wasn’t in it. He lost count between sets more times than he cared to admit.
“Are you about done?”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m done.” He might as well be done. It’d be the afternoon before he knew it, and he wanted to see Em again before he had to pick up Bree from school.
Strike laughed. “Are you moving anytime soon, or should I come back?”
He needed to get his shit together, quick. Only normal he felt out of sorts after the drive-by shooting yesterday. Now more than ever though, he couldn’t afford to lose focus.
He stood grabbing his towel then wiped his face.
“You okay?”
Ripper shook his head. He hadn’t meant to admit it. It’d been so long since he confided in anyone, but he needed to get shit off his chest.
“Want to talk about it?”
He didn’t but should. Even though he wasn’t one to share, he found himself saying, “I asked Em to marry me.”
Strike’s jaw dropped. After a moment, he grinned. “She said yeah.”
Why did he think that? Ripper didn’t respond, just stared back, the question in his eyes.
Strike quirked a brow. “She said no?”
“She didn’t say anything, but it was… It was like…” He gritted his teeth. “I felt like I had to convince her.”
Strike laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
Again, why Strike thought this, Ripper had no clue, especially since he wasn’t the type to share.
“You must’ve done it wrong.”
His brows furrowed. “How many ways are there to ask a woman to marry you?”
Strike chuckled. “You have to ask that, we have problems.”
Was there really more than one way? Would it have made a difference? He was so lost about shit like this. He never had a good mother, never kept a woman but Em, and everyone knew how that turned out.
Strike lifted his chin. “Tell me what you said.”
He thought back for a second. “I said she was mine, and if she wanted a ring or to go to the courthouse, we’d go. I told her I wanted everyone to know she was mine.”
Shaking his head, Strike released a loaded breath. “I’ve never asked a woman to marry me, but you can bet your ass I ever do, I’m not proposing like that. I don’t even think you can call that a proposal.”
His eyes widened. “Why the fuck not?”
“You want her to marry you, you tell her you love her then ask her to marry you. I think it helps if you do it when she’s not in a hospital. Maybe take her to a restaurant or the beach or some romantic shit like that.”
Clenching his jaw, he snapped, “She knows how I feel.” She had to know. Everything he did, everything he didn’t showed it, proved it.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Strike shot back, “Does she? You sure?” He shook his head. “’Cause I’m not. And if I was her, I’d think you hated me.”
No, Strike had it wrong. She knew. She had to know. He’d been a dick, but he’d changed the moment she told him why she left. Since then, he’d tried his hardest to show her that he wasn’t that man, and he did it by treating her right.
“I haven’t…” Shaking his head, he lost sight of Strike’s eyes. “I was a dick, but I haven’t been that for a while. I’ve been different, and we… We’ve been together, a lot. And I’ve been good to her. I’ve shown her what she means to me.”
Strike nodded. “Right, then the only thing I can say is that she’s in love with you, always has been, and the only reason a woman wouldn’t accept a proposal from a man she’s in love with, even if she was asked the way you asked her, is ’cause she thinks he doesn’t love her.”
In love with him? Was she? Why didn’t she act like it? Why didn’t she want people to know about them? Why didn’t she want Bree to know about them? Why hadn’t she said yes? All of it reinforced what he thought—she was using him.
Strike shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she knows you love her. Maybe she’s holding back because she’s scared you’ll hurt her again. Have you told her the truth?”
Rip met his gaze questioningly.
“Have you told her you never cheated?”
He didn’t know how Strike knew, so he was about to ask, but instead, he shook his head.
“I think you should start with that, Rip.”
He couldn’t, not until he found Lilliam. Em had to hear it from Lilliam. She wouldn’t believe him.
“A piece of advice, the best I can give you—talk to her. Tell her the truth. Tell her how you feel. Both of you need to learn from your mistakes and talk to each other.”
Strike had a point.
Still, Rip couldn’t tell her he never cheated, not yet, but it was about damned time he told her what she meant to him even if he didn’t mean the same to her.
****
Emelia didn’t know how she’d manage it, but she knew she had to.
Her hair was a mess of dried blood. She felt dirty, sticky, and gross. She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but she didn’t need to. She knew she looked like crap. Hell, she felt like crap. Horrifying to think Bryce had seen her like that and proposed or whatever it was he did. The wound on her forearm and her head still hurt, but she had to shower. She should call a nurse, but she didn’t want anyone’s help. Doing it on her own would give her something to think about besides the sadness that clung to her since having found out she lost her baby.
Decision made, Em slowly angled herself, so her legs hung off the bed. Even slower, she shifted until her feet touched the cold linoleum floor. Then she stood and moved toward the bathroom. Opening the door, she strode in. Once there, she grabbed onto the metal rail and paused to catch her breath. After, she removed her gown, set it on the rail, strode toward the shower, and turned it on, tempering it just how she liked it, really hot.
“Em?”
She froze. Just like him to show up at the worst time. She didn’t get a chance to cover herself before the door to the bathroom parted. She turned toward it. His gaze hit hers, and he exhaled like he was relieved to see her standing there dirty, butt-naked.
She grabbed her gown and brought it to cover herself.
He chuckled. “Seen you naked before, babe.”
“Not while I’m sticky, dirty, and gross.”
He ignored her comment, not denying she was, in fact, sticky, dirty, and gross. “Don’t know what you think you’re doing.”
“I forgot smelly.”
Shaking his head, he smiled. “You aren’t smelly, dirty, or gross. Maybe sticky though. I won’t know until I taste you.”
Just hearing that had her picturing him between her legs, and that made her quiver. Insane, she needed a shower, for God sakes, and he’d sort of proposed.
She took a step away. “I…I need to shower.”
“I’ll help you.” He shrugged off his cut, lifted his shirt, and tossed it aside.
“Wait!” Too late, she got a look at his chest and abs, so she couldn’t look away.
“Em?”
Her gaze pierced his.
He grinned, unbuckled his jeans, and kicked off his boots.
She shut her eyes tightly. “Stop! You need…” Exhaling, she met his stare. “You can’t shower with me.”
“’Course, I can.” Off went his jeans then boxers.
“No, you can’t—”
Naked, he closed the distance between them and gripped her waist. “Em, babe, you’re showering, I’m showering with you. You got a concussion, a cut on the back of your head, and a gunshot wound. You need help, and I’m helping you.”
“It was a graze, and I can manage—”
Leaning down to her, he pressed his lips to hers softly. When he pulled away, he smiled. “Morning to you too.”
Her breath hitched. “I…”
He grabbed the gown she held to her chest and set it on the metal support rail. “Get in, babe.”
Shit. She didn’t have a choice now, did she? She turned. Before she took a step into the shower, she felt the heat of his firm grip on her waist, holding her, helping her. She walked into the shower, her hands spread holding onto the rails at each side. He stood close behind. Once she felt the water pelt down on her, she grabbed the soap with her uninjured arm while still holding onto the rail with her injured one, wanting to keep the bandage dry.
He snatched the soap away. She turned her head, angling it to him.
“You’re too weak. I’m gonna help you.”
“I’m not. I can—”
“Let me.”
“But I can—”
“I know, Em, you can do it all by yourself. You don’t need me, but I want to help you, so let me.”
Turning away facing the showerhead, she held still while he lathered her, starting with her shoulders and neck then moving lower.
“I’m fine, you know.”
When he didn’t respond, she went on. “I know you were probably scared yesterday, but nothing happened. You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves.”
His hands, washing her stomach, stilled. “I know I was a dick before, and I know because of it, it’s hard for you to trust me. I’m sorry for every fucked-up thing I said and did. I hadn’t apologized before. I thought if I stopped being a dick, you’d know I was sorry, but I should’ve said it, should’ve apologized, so I am. And I want you to know, I’ll never treat you like that again.”
Apologizing? Bryce? She spun too fast and immediately got lightheaded. Her uninjured arm went to his chest gripping his skin.
He snaked his arm around her waist, pulled her to him, held her there, and smirked. “I take that back. You do need me.”
“I…” For some reason, staring into those beautiful eyes that strange blue-green color, eyes smiling at her, she blurted, “My hair… I need to wash my hair.”
“That’s next.”
He soaped every pore. By the time he finished, she was so heated she had him temper the water cooler. Then he moved on to her hair.
Squeezing a palmful of shampoo in his hand, he hesitated. “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”
She nodded. He then rubbed it on her scalp, softly and carefully. It felt so good she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest to enjoy it fully.
“What do you think about Friday?”
“Um…” she murmured.
“Friday, what do you think about Friday?”
She had no idea what he was talking about, and she wished he’d stop talking. It took too much of her concentration, and she just wanted to enjoy how his hands moved rhythmically in her hair. “Friday, what?”
“To get married.”
The haze of contentment lifted. She stilled, drew away from his chest, and slanted her head to meet his eyes. “W-what?”
Dropping his hands to her waist, he held her stare for several moments. “I think we should give you ’till the end of the week, so you can get better. Then Friday, we can go to the courthouse and get married.”
Shit. Why? Why? Why? She was too vulnerable to discuss this right now. Who was she kidding? She was too vulnerable with him period to ever discuss this.
“Em?”
She thought back, remembering what he said, the reason he wanted to marry her—he wanted her, wanted everyone to know she was his. Didn’t she deserve someone who loved her? Didn’t she want to hold out for that? She needed to speak up. If she didn’t, no one else would. “I’m yours, Bryce. Everyone knows. That’s not a good reason to get married.”
His eyes widened just a bit. “That’s not the only reason.”
Her heart tightened, hope floating. She held her breath.
“We got Bree.”
Stomach turning, her throat clogged. She swallowed thickly and managed to whisper, “That’s not a good reason either. We don’t have to get married to raise her together.”
His jaw went hard. “Wouldn’t it make you happy?”
An ache sliced up her chest, making her eyes water. She didn’t know how she did it, but she summoned the courage to tell the truth. “Marrying someone who doesn’t love me wouldn’t make me happy. It’d destroy me.”
His eyes darkened a split second before he dropped his head. When he met her gaze again, he swallowed thickly. “You could always see right through me. You knew what I was gonna say before I said it, and here you are telling me I don’t love you?”
He gripped the back of her neck and brought her closer, so his wounded, strange eyes were all she saw. “I’ve always loved you, Em. Always.”
The breath whooshed out of her as her chest tightened making the pain in her middle compound then compress so she felt nothing but it.
“You know how I feel about you.”
Shaking her head, she denied, “No. You—”
“I think I loved you the first time I saw you. I’d never felt it, so I didn’t know what it was, not until you left. I knew then, and it was too late.”
Scanning his gorgeous face, her jaw dropped. Oh, God. He loved her?
Leaning closer, eyes shining, he grazed his lips against hers. “You were gone, and I was dead. All those years without you, I tried every second of everyday to hate you, but I couldn’t ’cause I still loved you.”
Ignoring the roll of her stomach, she swallowed. God, no. Please, no. She never wanted to hurt him. Even if he was the reason she left, even if he destroyed her, she never wanted to do that to him.
“The whole time, I loved you, and I didn’t ever say it. I hated myself for that. I couldn’t blame you either ’cause I never said it. Then I never chased you. I should’ve found you and told you how I felt, how I still feel.”
He loved her then? No, that wasn’t possible. It didn’t make sense.
“After all this time, I bring you here, and you see day in and day out how pissed I am, fuckin’ livid. I did and said things I’ll never forgive myself for, and it’s messed up, but I’ll admit it to you. I was a dick ’cause I still wanted you, ’cause I still loved you, and I couldn’t have you, ’cause I should’ve chased you, ’cause if I’d chased you, I would’ve known Bree. And maybe I wouldn’t’ve had you, but I would’ve had her.”
Her hand at his chest tightened into a fist. “Y-you’ve had me…” Her voice cracked. “You had me, and you kept having me, and you—”
He released her. Feeling the warmth of him gone, she shivered.
“I’ve had a part of you, yeah, but it’s not enough ’cause I want all of you.” He shook his head. “And I tried, Em, I’ve tried to right the wrong, the way I treated you. Every night, every day, I fight the urge to give into that anger knowing that you’re just using me.”
Her lips parted. “Me using you?”
“To fuck.”
Her eyes widened. How could he think that? It was so clear how much she loved him, how she never stopped. “Why would you think that?”
Lifting his head, his eyes went behind her. He parted his mouth to speak then closed it without saying a word. After several moments, he spoke. “’Cause you never touch me around other people. You don’t want Bree to know about us. You’re always saying you aren’t mine. You said ‘just ’cause I let you fuck me doesn’t mean you’re mine.’”
“I said you fucking me doesn’t mean you’re mine.”
“I am yours. I fuckin’ told you this.” Looking away from her, he released a frustrated sigh.
In the silence that ensued, everything he said settled. He’d apologized for treating her the way he had. A part of her thought she deserved it. She’d taken Bree, and he’d lost years with her, after all. Even so, he hadn’t blamed her and didn’t seem mad at her because of that. Instead, he took the blame saying he should’ve chased her because he loved her.
“So you forgive me?”
His eyes widened. After a brief moment, a shadow of a smile crossed his face. “There’s nothing to forgive you for, Em. What you did…” He swallowed thickly. “If I was you, I would’ve left me too. I can promise you though, right here, right now, I’ll never hide anything from you. I’ll tell you everything. I promise I’ll never make the same mistakes again.”
Her heart stilled. She parted her mouth to speak then shut it. Without even realizing it, she said, “I love you, Bryce. Always did. Always will.”
He stared at her for a long while without saying a word. The expression on his face, she couldn’t read.
“I promise too.”
He cocked his head. “You promise?”
“I promise I’ll never make the same mistakes again.”
Finally, his lips quirked up. He smiled big and beautiful. “You love me?”
She nodded.
His stare roaming her face, he pulled her into a hug. “So Friday, then.”
Could she? Would he keep his promise?
He drew away yet kept his body touching hers and cupped her cheeks. “I’ll never hurt you, Em, ever. I’ll be good to you. I’ll take care of my girls, you and Bree.”
He meant it. She knew, and she loved him too much to say no.
She smiled softly. “Friday.”
That smile that changed his whole face came then. “Tilt your head back. I’ll get you cleaned up.”
He did. He then dried her, got her into bed, and told her he’d return after picking up Bree. After, he kissed her softly and smiled that big, wide smile. When he left, she let herself drift to sleep and not worry about what she’d just done.
****
“Are we gonna fuckin’ start sometime today?”
His brothers turned to look his way. None seemed surprised by his outburst. Some of them looked like they understood or wanted to, but only a few knew exactly how he felt. It could’ve been a whole lot worse, he knew as did they.
The mother of his kid, his old lady, and soon-to-be wife had been grazed by a bullet. His brothers were shot at too, but no one had been injured like Em. She’d been their target. No doubt in his mind who fired the shots—the Falcons. Desperate to get back at Chained, they made a stupid move they’d soon come to regret. How they found Em, Ripper didn’t know, but he needed to keep her safe and make sure that shit never happened again, so they needed to start this meeting and decide.
Prez nodded. “Yeah, we’re starting.”
“What’s the plan?” The looks his brothers gave him made his stomach turn. “Tell me we got a plan?”
It’d been three days since the drive-by. Busy with Em and Bree, he hadn’t been around most of the time. Em hadn’t been released from the hospital until the day before, Tuesday. By the time he brought her to the compound and dropped off her prescriptions, he had to pick up Bree at school. After bringing Bree home to keep her mom company, he grabbed Em’s prescriptions at the pharmacy. He spent a couple of hours with Bree and Em then headed out to buy dinner. Before he knew it, it was time for Bree to bathe and head to bed. After tucking Bree in, Em decided to shower. He helped her. She hadn’t wanted him to, but he did anyway. He fell asleep shortly after with Em tucked close to his side.
Now Wednesday morning, after dropping Bree off at school and checking on Em, who’d get the rest of the week off because he said so, the club met.
Prez shook his head. “No, we don’t.”
By now, they should’ve had a plan. While he’d been taking care of Em and Bree, his brothers should’ve discussed what happened, how to prevent it from happening again, and what they planned to do to avenge Em and themselves.
To fight his annoyance, he gritted his teeth. “What have you guys been doing the last three days?”
Dash held his gaze and calmly spoke. “We know you’re pissed about this, but—”
“But nothing. She’s the mother of my kid, my old lady, and my soon-to-be wife, so something needs to be done and fast.”
Every one of them looked shocked, meaning Strike hadn’t told anyone.
“We don’t know who it was.”
Bullshit. They knew. He glared Dash’s way, who’d spoken. The brother stood to his left, leaning against a wall. Then Rip snarled, “Yeah, we fuckin’ do. We had no beef with anyone but Chained, and that ship sailed a while back. The Falcons want to get back at Chained, so they want Em. We’re hiding Em, so they fucked us.”
“We got to be sure before we start a war,” Hash jumped in.
A war? The club he joined didn’t care about starting wars. They made vows to have each other’s backs no matter the circumstance. They vowed to protect their club, their brothers, and their family with their dying breaths.
“You’re fuckin’ kidding me?” He looked around the large room, searching their gazes, trying to find someone, anyone on his side. His stare landing on Wild and Stone, who had old ladies, thinking they’d know how he felt. Nothing.
He slid his gaze to Trig, whose old lady Allie/Classy had been kidnapped; to Army, Allie’s brother; to Cuss whose old lady had been attacked in their home. And nothing.
Pulse pounding at the base of his neck, he clenched his jaw fighting to keep composed. “This is fuckin’ bullshit.”
“We gotta talk and discuss,” Prez’s voice rose.
Bull. They knew who’d shot at them, and they were brothers who’d made vows. Their women, kids, even family were considered part of the club. Untouchable, so there was nothing to discuss but a plan to get back at the Falcons.
“Yeah? Like we discussed beating the shit outta Classy’s loaded ex? Like we discussed looking for her ourselves when that asshole kidnapped her? Like we didn’t find her and run to her rescue armed and without waiting for the cops? Like we discussed Cuss beating the shit outta that guy for dissing his old lady? Like we discussed Cuss going HAM on that other fucker on his front yard for—”
“That was different, brother.”
He turned, took a step in Rake’s direction, meeting his gaze dead-on. “Don’t call me brother, asshole. She’s my woman, the mother of my kid. She could’ve been killed.”
He released a breath, knowing he needed to gather his thoughts and calm down before he lost it. No way. No how. Em could’ve been killed. Worse, what he hadn’t let himself think about, the fact that Bree, his baby girl, could’ve been killed. If one of those bullets… Damn it!
Fisting his hands at his sides, he barked, “You assholes wanna sit around and do nothing to protect her?”
“That’s not what we’re doing.” Mellow shook his head. “We just gotta talk and think real hard before we decide.”
His heart pounded so loud, it was almost all he heard. Looking to Trig, Rip said, “That shot could’ve grazed Allie instead.”
Trig’s face changed, a ravished look taking hold like he was remembering that day not so long ago when they’d kidnapped Allie, and he’d lost his mind.
Ripper sliced his gaze to Cuss. “You could’ve lost your baby, instead of me.”
Cuss’s eyes widened a second before his face blanched.
He struck a nerve. Cuss and Tiff were expecting their first, a boy. Meeting Dodge’s stare, he then said, “Or it could’ve been Cullen.”
Fear so much of it in Dodge’s expression, the brother couldn’t hide it, the same they probably saw in his.
Spotting movement from his peripheral vision, he shifted. Bud stared straight at him, eyes searing.
Wild cleared his throat. “You’re taking this to an extreme. All we’re trying to say is we gotta discuss this.”
He couldn’t believe this shit, couldn’t believe he still hadn’t convinced them. “They shot at us! All of us! It could’ve been one of us.” He slammed his hand against his chest.
Deafening silence. No one spoke up. No one sided with him.
“We lost our balls over the last five years, that’s fine.” He spun and headed for the door. Grabbing the knob, he turned it and heard Prez speak.
“We gotta discuss and vote.”
Looking over his shoulder, he growled, “You know where I stand.”