Chapter 22

 

 

 

Banshee

 

As the party dwindles down, the men folk take seats around the tables off to the side as most of the women continue to dance. Watching Bellamy wander around the dance floor shaking her ass and enjoying herself causes another twinge in my chest. No more tears have shed from her eyes, and she’s doing exactly what Bea asked of her. Celebrate. Remember. Move forward.

 

I cut into Kenny’s conversation with Brute as Viola snuggles in his lap. “I’m going to marry your daughter.”

 

He looks at me taken aback by my declaration, but it doesn’t last long as joy lights up his features. “I know. You’re probably the only man that can handle her. She’s the spitting image of Momma Bea except her view on marriage. Just wait until y’all are sitting on your front porch watching your grandchildren play, and Bellamy spits out one of Bea’s superstitions when one of the kids picks up a frog.” He chuckles. “Momma never missed a beat when it came to the kids, especially Bellamy. They were thicker than thieves.”

 

I laugh. “As long as Bellamy doesn’t become a cougar in her old age like Bea we’ll be good.” He nods.

 

The Devil went down to Georgia starts playing ending Bea’s celebration as the sky opens up and it begins to pour. I look to Bellamy spinning around in circles with her arms in the air smiling as she dances in the rain. Leaving the table, I stride to Bellamy with purpose. I pat the pocket of my kutte making sure that the box I’ve been carrying around for the last few months is still there. I have no shame. I bought the ring not long after Bellamy appeared in the Chaotic’s Clubhouse. I’ve always known she was it for me and I knew I’d make her mine.

 

I pick her up and spin her around as we both continue to get drenched. Then I place her on her feet and go done on one knee as she puts a hand to her mouth in shock as I pull out the little black box and open it. I remove the tasteful diamond ring and grab her left hand. I don’t ask her to marry me because I know deep down that the answer is yes and there’s no point dragging it on waiting for those three little letters. Sliding the ring on her finger, she smiles brightly and throws herself at me. I hit the floor on my back with a thud, and she eats at my mouth as she licks, kisses and nips my lips. I bookcase her face in my hands and kiss her with force. I don’t free her lips until we are struggling to breathe.

 

“You’re mine today, tomorrow and fifty years from now,” I growl.

 

“You’re mine today, tomorrow and fifty years from now.” She repeats.

 

Her father hoists her off of me and squeezes her tightly to him kissing the top of her head as they both radiate with happiness. Her mom and brothers cage them in further as their group-hug hides Bellamy. My brothers surround me slapping me on the back, and Mitz hugs me with a peck on the cheek telling me I made a good choice.

 

Poison wraps me in a man-hug and a hard pat on the back. “Congratulations, brother.”

 

“Thanks, man. One day our positions will be reversed and I’ll be congratulating you.”

 

He pulls back with a serious expression on his face with his jaw clenched. “I hope so. I want what you have more than anything, and it only grows more unbearable as the days pass.”

 

I pat him on the cheek patronizingly. “Aww, Poison.” I chide, and he huffs. “Seriously, brother, you’ll get it.” He bobs his head and stares at where Mauve and Bellamy are hugging and swaying from side to side.

 

After congratulations are over, and the backyard is somewhat cleaned up after the ten-minute wave of rain ended, we head back to Bellamy’s to get some much-needed rest and relaxation.

 

***

 

Feeling my shaft engulfed in warmth and having the life sucked out of my cock by Bellamy is the best dream ever. Her tongue slides underneath my girth to the tip swirling and lapping. Sliding her mouth from tip to base until the head hits the back of her throat and she swallows. Fuck, that feels magnificent and then it’s gone, and all I feel is the absence and coldness surrounding me.

 

Then I hear gagging and not from my cock being buried in her throat so deep she can’t breathe. This dream keeps getting strangers as the distance sounds continue to rack my brain as to why she’s choking far away from me.

 

I shake out of my sleep-dazed mind and take in her room. Her side is empty, and the sheet is down by my knees. The closed door to the bathroom is illuminated underneath. More gagging and coughing is coming from the offending bathroom.

 

I jump out of bed not bothering with clothes and rush to the closed door. Opening it a crack, I see Bellamy praying to the porcelain God as she heaves and tries to catch her breath. Opening the door more to allow me entrance, I go to the closet and pull out a washcloth and soak it in cool water, ringing it out and placing it on the back of her neck.

 

She cocks her head to the side, and I take in her bloodshot eyes and ghostly pallor. “I feel like shit, and I didn’t even drink that much last night.” She huffs.

 

I move the hair from her eyes and rub her back. “Maybe you ate something that didn’t agree with you.”

 

“Maybe.” Her head spins back to the toilet as she dry heaves.

 

“What can I do, Sweets?”

 

She takes the cloth off her neck and wipes her mouth leaning back and resting against the side of the tub. “Can you make me some dry toast and hot tea?”

 

“Sure, Sweets. Holler if you need me.”

 

Not wanting to leave her by herself long, I hurry through the motions of putting water in the kettle and bread in the toaster. Within minutes, it’s done, and I am carrying a tray into the bathroom. She still has her back against the tub glaring at a box of tampons in her hands like they offended her.

 

“Bellamy, come on let’s get you back into bed so you can eat.”

 

“No, I think we need to make a trip to the goddamn pharmacy.” She throws the box against the wall, and a shower of tampons collides with the floor.

 

“You need medicine; I’ll go get it if you’ll go lay down and try to eat and drink your tea.”

 

“Nope, no medicine, but possibly a few dozen pregnancy tests.”

 

“Hmmmm.”

 

“Yep, hmmmm.” She groans as she gets to her feet and storms out of the bathroom slinging clothes out of her closet. “Damnit, Granny.” She mumbles with no heat in her voice.

 

I wind my arms around her middle and place my chin on her shoulder. “If you’re carrying a little Banshee then your Granny can’t say you didn’t cherish me,” I say softly.

 

She huffs. “Just proves that Granny has penetrated the higher-ups in the sky and she’s directing them on how to proceed with her family. Yes, that brown-haired little lass, plant his seed. Yes, that tall drink of water’s seed.” She attempts to mimic Granny Bea’s voice.

 

I can’t help but laugh at her when she’s rung up about something so inconsequential. No, a baby isn’t unimportant, but to me, this outcome was eventually going to happen, so I’m not sweating it. Instead, my chest is puffed out like a prize roosters. Just one more string that ties us together.