Chapter Eighteen
Ripper hadn’t lied. He’d stake his life on the fact she’d love his surprise. To get there, they’d ride. It’d been too long since she’d been on the back of his bike.
He led her upstairs and down the hall. Reaching the room Em and Bree share, the room Em still kept most of her clothes in but didn’t sleep in since she slept with him, he strode through, pulling her in behind him. He shut the door with his foot then drew her against him as he did. Chest to chest, he asked, “You wear that color for me?”
Eyes red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks flushed, and still, she looked breathtaking. She smiled and nodded.
“Still my favorite, Em.”
Her smile widened.
“Like the dress. Love it on you, but we’re gonna go for a ride, so you need to change.”
She hooked her arms around his neck, got on the tips of her toes, and tilted her head up for a kiss. He gave in, leaning down to meet her lips. A soft, simple, sweet kiss, he felt it in his bones.
She pulled away. He watched her walk into the closet. Then as he marched out of the room and into his across the hall, he removed the black, button-down shirt he wore, one he bought for the occasion. On his dresser, he grabbed a plain black tee and his cut, donned them, and went back into the room across his. Moments later, she strode out of the closet wearing a pair of jeans, boots, a Harley tank, and a black leather jacket.
He stood motionless staring at her, at that jacket. So familiar, but it couldn’t be, it looked new. Closing the distance between them, his stare on the patch on the right, he grabbed one of her arms, turning her. Another patch yet bigger, reading the same, “Property of Ripper, Hell Ryders MC.”
She’d kept it, the leather he gave her so many years ago, and it was like new, like she’d treasured it. He swallowed the emotion clogging his throat.
She turned and met his gaze. “Something wrong?”
“Can’t believe—”
Lifting a brow, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Haven’t we been over this?”
He stilled.
Her face softened, looking at him that way he loved. “Always loved you, Bryce. I couldn’t get rid of it. I had to take care of it, even believing what I did.”
He looked away then. He didn’t, he’d end up kissing her, and then, the ride and her surprise would be long forgotten.
Grabbing her hand, he quickened his pace, led her outside, and hopped on his bike. She planted a hand on his shoulder, swung her leg over, cuddled close, legs tight against his, arms around his waist.
Just like before.
Just like they used to.
He rode off, the wind blowing against them. Her chest pressed against his back, arms tight around his midsection, he finally found what he’d chased for years. He didn’t know how to describe it. If he had to, he’d say it was a mixture of a bunch of things he always wanted: freedom, fulfilment, her.
At a stop light, Em lifted her butt off the seat and leaned into him. He turned his head, listening over the roaring of the engine, thinking she had something to say. Instead, she pressed a kiss to his jaw.
Just like before.
Just like she used to.
It was only a short ride to her surprise but worth it since Em enjoyed it as much as him. When he drove up to a house with large bay windows, she sighed.
Parking, he cut the engine, grabbed her hand, pressed it to his stomach then slanted his face toward hers. “We’re here.”
She smiled. “You rented a house for the night?”
He looked to the house she referred to: a big bungalow with four bedrooms, a two-car garage, and a big yard in front and back. He hadn’t done much with the yard, the front or back, so it didn’t have the curb appeal it should. He’d do something about that next. The inside, he’d remodeled to an open concept, both bathrooms and kitchen had been updated too.
“Naw, babe. It’s not rented. It’s ours.”
She tensed behind him. He let her take in that piece of information as he stood and helped her off his bike.
“It’s ours?”
He tugged her toward the front door. “Yeah, it’s ours. It’s home, or it will be as soon as this shit with the Falcons is over,” he added, going up five steps to the porch and door.
“You bought a house?”
He paused turning to her. “Yeah.” He didn’t elaborate, hoping she’d drop the subject though he knew her well enough to know the chances of that happening were slim.
“I thought you said the club was clean.”
“Club is clean, babe.”
“I just…” She shook her head, her thick hair swayed. “It doesn’t make sense.”
She didn’t understand how he could afford her diamond band and a house without the club being involved in dirty dealings? The club made good money. What they did wasn’t entirely legal, but it wasn’t the shit they’d been involved in before. Still, for what they did and what they made, it didn’t mean he could afford it all at once unless he’d saved a shit ton of money. He had saved a ton because he had a house he bought years ago he kept rented. He lived at the compound, so most of the money he earned, he saved. Every now and then, between renters, he updated his house, so money went into that. Still, he had a bunch saved. Part of it went to buy her ring. The rest, he put in a college fund for Bree.
As he opened the door and waited for her to enter, he thought of something to say, something that would redirect her attention because he didn’t want to admit when he bought the house. He wanted to leave the past in the past and didn’t want her knowing anything that could make her feel guiltier than she did already.
“Wow.”
He closed and locked the door then looked at her, taking everything in. The room was large and mostly empty, so it made everything look bigger. To their left, a living room with an old brick fireplace he’d refinished. Two large bay windows at each side of the front door. The den at the far end of the house had wall-to-wall built-in shelving. In the middle of that room sat a couch.
To their right, the dining room. Behind it, the kitchen: dark cabinets, white and gray marble countertops that matched the concrete countertop on the massive island and breakfast bar. The back of the house had floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors.
Between the den and living room, a hallway led to the bedrooms. Off the kitchen and dining room, a door led to the two-car garage and laundry room.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the hallway and walked until he reached the room before the master. “I thought this could be Bree’s room.” He painted the walls pink just weeks ago when Bree told him it was her favorite color.
“You painted it already?”
He looked down at her and smiled. “Yeah. She needs furniture though and blankets and…” He shrugged. “…Guess more toys to fill this room up.”
Before she said another word, he tugged on her arm, leading her farther down the hall and into the master. An inflatable mattress lay in the center of the room. Aside from that, it was empty.
“It’s—”
“Mostly empty now, but we got time before we can move anyway. You can pick out whatever you want, decorate it however you want. Just try not to make it too girlie, yeah?”
Her gaze swept the large room then met his. “The club’s clean?”
Right, so it was time to tell her everything the club did. “Remember I went away a while back?”
She released his hand, wrapped her arms around her waist, and nodded.
“I had a guard outta town. That’s what we call them, what we do, ‘guards,’ short for bodyguards. We get paid good money for that ’cause people pay a lot for safety and ’cause we include…extras.”
Her eyes went round. “Like?”
“Rough people up.”
She didn’t even flinch. Then again, he hadn’t expected her to. She’d been with him when the club was into running drugs and guns, and before that, she lived with Chip whose club was involved in much of the same. She’d seen worse.
“Like enforcers?”
He shrugged. “Guess it’s something like that.”
“That’s not legal.”
“No.”
“So technically—”
“We’re not gonna get in trouble. We’re good at what we do. Besides, the people we rough up are on the wrong side of the law.”
She swallowed. “Who pays for something like that?”
“People who’re loaded and need protection.”
“Like?”
“Like Tiff.”
Her lips parted. “Cuss’s Tiff?”
“Yeah, Cuss’s old lady. Her family’s loaded. She was in college in LA and got unwanted attention from a sick loser who’d follow her around and break into her apartment. Her dad paid the club to deal with him.”
She quirked a brow. “So, you dealt with him?”
“I didn’t. Cuss, Mellow, and Bud did.”
She nodded. “Is that how they met?”
He shook his head. “Naw. They go way back, went to high school together from what I heard.”
“When you went away—”
He grabbed her arm, tugged it away from her waist, and trailed his hand down her forearm to lace his fingers through hers. “Some dick wouldn’t leave his ex-girlfriend alone. Her new man has money and paid us to teach him a lesson.”
“How do you know she didn’t want him—”
“We check to make sure. We talked to the girl. She was terrified, and cops couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything. We get that with situations like that, there’s not much cops can do but write a report, not until something bigger and worse happens. We make sure it doesn’t get to that.”
He shrugged. “We’re hardly ever asked to rough people up anyway. Mostly just scare them enough they don’t think about doing it again.”
“So you basically deal with stalkers?”
He squeezed her hand. “No, we deal with all sorts of fucked up people. Not what you’re thinking though. We don’t get involved with gangs or the mafia or dealers, they handle their own shit ’cause their enemies found out they couldn’t, they wouldn’t last much longer. Most of the time, we’re just providing protection for a short time. For the right price, we provide extras. We work for who we want meaning we don’t feel right about someone, we turn them down.”
“But you could get hurt—”
He moved closer and cupped her cheek. “You worried ‘bout me?”
She rested a hand on his chest then on an exhale admitted, “Always.”
He grinned.
She released his hand to wind both arms around his waist tightly. “Bay windows. You remembered I like them?”
He nodded. All those years ago, those windows had been the reason he bought the house. They were also the reason after she left him, he couldn’t live in it. Those windows reminded him of her, and he couldn’t bring himself to remove them or sell the house, so he rented it.
“I can’t believe you found a house so soon. When did you start looking? When did you buy it?”
Drawing away, he grabbed her hand and led her to the en suite bathroom. “Big shower, a big tub for your baths.” Then he led her to the closet. “Don’t think either of us will ever fill this, but we can try.”
“Bryce?”
Having no choice, he met her gaze.
“When did you start looking?”
He turned. “Let me show you the backyard, lots of room.”
She tugged on his hand before he took another step. He stilled and faced her but didn’t meet her eyes.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
There it was. That ability she had, reading him so easily. It seemed she got it back. Too bad it failed her all those years ago. He wished it failed her now instead of then. He didn’t want to get into this, not now, not ever. They kept going over the past, they’d never move forward. He wanted her to know he never cheated, never hurt her, but he didn’t want her to know this. It’d only wound her.
“Look at me.”
He did. He knew the moment she figured it out.
Her face changed, a sadness taking hold. “You…bought it before?”
He couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he didn’t.
“Tell me.” She shut her eyes and whispered, “Please, tell me.”
He lifted her hand to her face and rubbed the band he placed on her ring finger. “It doesn’t change this, so it doesn’t matter.”
“We’re starting over. I need to know.”
“For us to start over, you don’t need to know. You need to let shit go. Are you saying you need to know before you let shit go?”
She nodded.
He expelled a breath. “I closed on it a week before you left. I was going to tell you about it, and I would’ve. But at the time, I didn’t know when we would’ve been able to move in because I needed to make some big changes that were gonna have to wait a while.”
Her gaze fell from his as tears clouded her eyes.
He lifted her chin with his finger. “It isn’t your fault.” He shook his head. “I never told you I loved you, but I told you plenty of other shit, how I didn’t see myself getting married or having kids, how that wasn’t me. I knew you wanted that. So when you left, I kicked my own ass for not giving you that, for not telling you how I felt. I should’ve.”
He drew close until her body touched his. “We’ve both made mistakes. We both lost years. Now, we got us back, and we got Bree, so Em, we gotta leave the past in the past and start making up for the years we lost, yeah?”
She smiled at that. “Yeah.”
“I’ve never lived here. I’ve rented it out and fixed it up some over the years. When I found out about Bree, it was good timing ’cause the lease was up, and the tenants hadn’t renewed, so I’ve been coming and fixing some shit here and there, painting mostly. Except for Bree’s room, I painted everything white. Now you’re here, you can tell me what you like, and I’ll paint again.”
Her face softened. “I love you, Bryce.”
He felt the words in his soul, so he couldn’t do anything but stand there looking at her looking at him in that way he loved.
When he managed to move, he did what he’d been dying to do all day. He kissed her deep. The kiss led to other shit that led to other shit that led to him having the best orgasm of his life. It’d be the best until next time. He knew because it got better every time.
****
Her stomach growled. Not a surprise. She and Bryce thoroughly enjoyed their first night as husband and wife. While doing that, they’d skipped dinner.
Close to seven in the morning now, they didn’t have to pick up Bree until noon, but hunger woke her, and she couldn’t wait any longer. That, in itself, presented a problem, a big one. She didn’t think Bryce had stocked the fridge. Not to mention how much she really hated to get up, it was cold, and she was warm snuggled close to Bryce. Her chest pressed against his side, her leg swung over his, her hand resting on his abs.
Slowly, she moved away, first her hand then her leg, and finally, she shifted backward. He didn’t stir. She stared at him in sleep for a while, letting the past day flow through her, the best day of her life. A smile spread across her lips. Her stomach growled again loud enough that she thought it’d wake him. She strode out of the master bedroom, where they slept on an inflatable mattress, walked down the hall, through the den and living room until she reached the kitchen. Making her way to the fridge, she parted it. As feared, empty. She then looked inside the cabinets and found those empty too. Her gaze drifted across the kitchen landing on the breakfast bar. Her phone binged, the text message alert sounding. She went in search of it. It didn’t take her long to find it right where she left it last night, on the couch. Picking it up, she slid her finger across it and froze.
Got ur grl. U in xchange 4 her. U got a min to decide or she’s dead.
It took her less to make the decision. Not much of a decision, she’d give anything for Bree, even her own life.
Without further thought, she ran across the room to the door, unlocked it, and stepped out. A hand grasped her bicep tightly dragging her to her right. She didn’t get a chance to see anyone since a second later someone covered her head with a hood.
The heat of a body against her back, that someone’s mouth at her ear threatened, “Scream, deal’s off.”
Another man snickered. Then the person holding her yanked her forward. She went willingly. A short distance later, the man holding her arm tightly released her, and she felt an arm hook around her back and another under her knees. Whoever held her now lifted her and laid her down. Feeling the felt at her back, something slammed down. No doubt, they locked her in a trunk. Where they planned to take her didn’t matter. What did—Bree would be safe.
Knowing this, she tried to come to terms with the fact that the best day of her life would be followed by her last.