CHAPTER 22

One week later

Flick

I’d never been so nervous in my life. I probably should have called Taz before now. That would have been the smart thing to do, but this whole crazy fucking plan had been on impulse from the beginning. Including me rocking up on his doorstep late at night.

It hadn’t taken long for me to come to the conclusion that I’d fallen in love with Taz. Now, I was betting everything on the fact he felt the same way. Or at least felt like he could love me one day.

Maybe I was making a mistake.

I stood frozen for a moment. This could end so very badly. What was I doing? I was still standing next to my car, staring at the front of Taz’s house, when Eagle emerged from the shadows beside the building. I watched him approach, but still I couldn’t move.

“Hey, Flick. Whatcha doing?”

“Hey, Eagle. To be honest, I’ve got no fucking clue.”

He ran his gaze over my car, zeroing in on all the boxes and bags inside. It wasn’t by accident this man got the nickname Eagle. Although even a moron couldn’t miss the fact I basically had my entire life inside my car.

“Silk told me you went to see her today.”

I nodded. “She tell you why?”

He nodded and zeroed his gaze in on my feet. “She did.”

“She’s really good.”

His lips quirked, like he knew I was stalling. “That she is. Wanna show me?”

I tugged up the bottom of my jeans, as I turned to show Eagle the small Tasmanian Devil that now resided a little above my ankle.

“He’ll love that.” There was a spark of humor in his voice before he grew serious again. “Tell me, Flick. You pick today to come here on purpose?”

I winced. Of course his friends would know the significance of the eighth of April to their friend.

“Yeah, it’s on purpose. But I’m late because I’ve spent hours driving around, trying to build up the courage to actually come here. Maybe I should go to a hotel tonight and come back in the morning...”

“No, you shouldn’t do that. He needs you.”

I wasn’t entirely certain of that, I mean, he hadn’t exactly called me over these past seven days. Did he really miss me?

“I can see you have questions. I’d suggest you select what you ask him tonight with care.”

I turned to stare at Eagle’s dark eyes. “Why? What’s happened?”

“He’s a good way through a bottle of Jack.”

I swallowed past a lump in my throat as tears pricked my eyes. My poor Taz. Finally, my feet unfroze from the ground and I took a step toward the front door.

“No, he’s not inside. Follow me, I’ll take you to him, then I’ll leave you be. I’ve been hanging back in the shadows watching, making sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid in his drunkenness, but now you’re here, I’ll leave him to you. If you need me, just call out. I won’t be too far away.”

I couldn’t speak. Too many emotions bubbled and roiled inside me as I followed him down past the side of the house and around to the back. Eagle stopped while we were still in the shadows and I stepped up to stand beside him. Following his gaze, the sight I found broke my heart in two. Taz sat on his porch, drinking straight from a rapidly emptying bottle of Jack as he ran his palm over something leather that sat across his lap.

“What’s he holding?”

I whispered low, so my voice wouldn’t travel. Eagle shook his head. “You’ll need to see that for yourself. Go on now, go fix my brother. We’ll see you around tomorrow, no doubt.”

With that, Eagle melted into the shadows once again and I took my first step out of them, toward my man. My poor, broken, suffering man. I was halfway to him when he looked up and caught sight of me. The bottle was halfway to his mouth and he froze for a moment before he brought it the rest of the way and took a large swallow. I climbed the back stairs, and still he remained silent.

“Hey.”

He took another drink as he watched me, and I started fidgeting as I began to feel like a science experiment.

“Pretty sure you’re just my imagination, but you know what? I really don’t give a fuck.”

Considering how far through the bottle he was, I was impressed he could talk straight. Especially if he thought he was hallucinating.

“I’m real, babe. Can I sit down?”

He slowly nodded. He was sitting on an old-school porch swing, in the middle, but he didn’t shift over. Nope, he just patted his knee. That was when I saw what he had in his lap, what he’d been stroking. He had a vest, no a cut. It had “Property of Taz” written on the back, around a Charon patch. Shit. He was sitting out here on the twentieth anniversary of the death of his mother and sister, getting shitfaced drunk, while stroking the leather he’d wanted me to wear. My heart seized up with hope, and pain.

With a gentle smile, I walked to stand directly in front of him, nodding at the leather. “That for me?”

“Was meant to be. No fucking clue whether you want it anymore, though. Fuck, I wish this was really you. That you’d really wear my patch.”

Slowly, I reached forward and picked up the cut. Relief washed over me as he released the leather and let me take it. I slipped it behind me and threaded my arms through it, pulling the front halves in over my chest. I wanted to look down, to see what the patches said, but instead my gaze stayed glued to his. His blue irises flared with heat as he took another drink from his bottle. Moving forward, I slipped a knee up next to his thigh on one side, then the other, lowering my body until I straddled his lap.

“Tell me you’re real. That I’m not imagining this.”

“I’m real, Taz. I’m real and I’m here to stay. If you’ll have me.”

He shuddered beneath me and unable to hold back any longer, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like the whiskey he was drinking, and he didn’t have the same finesse he normally had when he kissed me. But that was understandable, considering how much he’d had to drink tonight. I kept the kiss short, then leaned back to sit against his legs, but kept my palms on him, stroking over his shoulders, chest and torso. Now that I was touching him again, I couldn’t make myself stop.

“Dream fucking come true. I think it’s a first.”

“What’s a first?”

“Something fucking good with a female, my curious little kitty. And a first that I had a dream that was fucking good, because, babe, my dreams? They’re normally fucking nightmares. Especially this time of year. But the few nights I had you beside me, I fucking slept. First time in a bloody long time, I had dreamless sleep.”

“I’m glad I could give that to you, Taz. And I plan to give you so many more nights like it. For the rest of our lives, if you’ll have me.”

“See? You keep saying shit like that? Like what I’m desperate to hear, and I’ll never believe you’re real.”

I smiled. “Well, I guess when you start tripping over all my stuff I’ve left around your house, you’ll start to believe it. I’m kinda messy.”

He was still staring at his property patch over my heart. “That’s okay, babe. The USMC made sure I keep shit neat as a pin. We’ll be fine.” He took another mouthful of Jack. “You gotta promise to never leave. I can’t handle another woman leaving me. Understand?”

“Your mother didn’t leave you on purpose, Taz. She didn’t abandon you, she was ripped away. And I promise I won’t ever leave you. I’ve only taken this long because I had to get shit sorted out in Dallas before I could move down here permanently.”

He leaned forward and pressed his nose against my throat, inhaling deeply before pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss there that left me shuddering on a moan.

“You smell real, taste as fucking good as I remember. And I know Mum didn’t leave me by choice. Well, she could have kicked that fucker Gordon out before he ever got the idea in his fool head to strangle her, then light that fucking fire. But no, she didn’t leave me. Doesn’t matter, though. First my dad died, fighting some fucking enemy in some far off country no one’s meant to know anything about. Then Mum and Gracie were gone. Then even Aunt Pam, the old bitch, threw me out as soon as could. Stupid fucking cow. You’d think she’d make the most of the free fucking labor I was providing and be willing to keep feeding me. But nope, as soon as I turned eighteen, she told me she couldn’t look at my bloody face anymore. Apparently looking like my old man is a crime in her book. But somehow, you leaving, you choosing your work, the fucking F - B - I over me, that hurt worse. How’d you make me love you so fucking much in such a short amount of time, babe? I can’t work that shit out. In a week, you got me wrapped completely around your little finger.”

Clearly, he still didn’t believe I was real. That or the alcohol was starting to affect his deeper thought processes. When he went to lift the bottle again, I pried it from his hand.

“I think you’ve had enough of that, babe. How about we get you up to bed? We can talk everything through in the morning.”

He narrowed his eyes on me as I set the bottle down on the ground, away from his easy reach.

“I don’t wanna go to bed. That means sleep. Means you disappear, and the nightmares come back.”

My chest ached for him. I cupped his face between my hands, his stubble scraping against my palms as I stared directly into his eyes.

“How can I prove to you that I’m not a figment of your imagination? Wanna come out the front and see my car? How it’s filled with everything I own? Will that do it? Maybe we could call Eagle back over here to tell you I’m real.”

He frowned. “Eagle was here?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course your friend was here. He knew you were hurting and didn’t want you to do something stupid because you got drunk off your ass to cope with it. He said he’d leave me to handle you once I got here, but I bet he won’t go to bed until he sees the lights are off over here.”

He scoffed. “Interfering bastard. And he calls himself my mate.”

I gave him a little shake. “You know he’s your best mate, him and Mac both. Now, how about we go inside, you can drink a big glass of water, then we’ll head upstairs and get you into bed? I just need to run out to my car to grab a couple bags for the morning, then I’ll be right beside you all night. Okay? That sound good?”

He nodded, then winced. Yeah, all that Jack was starting to really kick in now. Fuck, I hoped he didn’t pass out. He might not be much taller than me, but the man was solid fucking muscle and I was certain I wouldn’t be able to carry his ass if he passed out.

I slid from his lap and taking his hand, led him into the house. Leaving him leaning against the kitchen bench, I poured him a glass of water and waited for him to drink it before I refilled the glass to take upstairs with us. His head was gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning, after this little drinking binge of his.

The closer we got to his room, the more sleepy he got. By the time I had him standing next to the bed, his eyes were half closed and he wore the stupid grin drunk people got. It had me chuckling as I striped off his clothes. No matter how much Taz joked around, he always had a serious, hard edge to him. Like, at a glance you could tell he was a Marine. Right now, he was all teddy bear, soft and cuddly. I couldn’t wait to be wrapped in his arms to sleep the night away.

Once I had him stripped and tucked in. I leaned down to kiss his temple. He hadn’t said a word since we came inside and it was a little freaky, really. And what he said next didn’t make it better. Nope. Kinda wished he’d stayed quiet as soon as he started speaking.

“That fire isn’t my only nightmare, you know? Nope. That fucking orphanage is one of the worst I have. All the bodies. You wanna know what happened? Why your brother couldn’t fucking come home? It was because he’s a good fucking man, who got stuck in a shitty, shitty situation. He did the best he could, but still got burned for it. Those men he was trying to stop? Now they were animals. The worst fucking kind. Of course, they weren’t the first bunch of military men to turn evil in a war. But to rape and murder your way through a fucking orphanage? That takes a special kind of evil, that does. Fuck, Flick. By the time we got sent in, it was nearly too late to save any of them. Kids...they were just fucking kids. Their bodies torn up. The few adults that were there? They’d clearly tried to fight. Naturally, against fucking Marines they’d had no fucking chance. But your brother, Vaughn—he snuck in behind them. We got there after he’d killed the first and was going after the second. On. His. Own. We went in with a team to contain those pricks, but your stupidly brave brother ran in on his own. Probably saved more than a few lives that day. And his thanks? Dishonorable fucking discharge, because no one cared enough to separate out the good from the bad before they swept it all under the fucking rug to never be seen again.”

By the end his voice had slurred out to the point he was hard to understand, then he was asleep before I could form a response. Not that I could. Tears ran down my cheeks—for Taz, for Andrew—for everyone in that orphanage. After I stood there for probably half an hour, crying silent tears and watching Taz sleep, I shook myself free and headed down to grab my bags, lock up and turn off the lights so I could curl up with him.

Although I was pretty sure it was me that was going to be having the nightmares tonight.

Taz

There were little men with fucking sledge hammers inside my skull. And the bastards wouldn’t stop pounding on me. Fuckers. With a groan, I rolled over and stumbled to the bathroom. After relieving myself, I opened the cabinet to search for some Advil. When I saw the packet sitting next to a glass of water beside the sink, I frowned. What the fuck? Since thinking hurt, I stopped trying to remember how it got there, and just took two of the bloody things, washing them down with a long drink of the cold water before I brushed my teeth to get rid of the funky taste I had in my mouth. When I went to return to bed, I stopped in my tracks.

My bed wasn’t empty. Nope, not at all. Like my dreams come true, Flick lay before me, with her black hair spilling over my pillows like silk. My cock grew hard in an instant. She was facing away from me, but all that black hair could only be my kitty. I scrubbed a hand over my face as I tried to get my poor, abused brain to function. What had happened last night? I remembered going out on my back porch with a bottle of Jack. I’d intended to drink myself into oblivion so I wouldn’t fucking think about, or dream about them. Or her. When had Flick turned up? And why the hell had she stayed?

I slipped back beneath the covers and didn’t complain when, jostled by the movement, Flick rolled toward me, gifting me with a glimpse of her tits as she moved to drape herself over me. Her eyes were still closed and she clearly wasn’t fully awake, but I couldn’t not touch her. I ran my fingers down her cheek, before rubbing my thumb over her lower lip. Fuck, she was beautiful, and so soft. Her lashes flickered a few times before she opened her eyes and stared up at me, looking wary.

“Morning.”

“That it is. Whatcha’ doing in my bed, babe?”

She went to push away from me but I quickly wrapped my arm around her back, holding her against me.

“I ain’t complaining, not at all. Just curious as to how you got here. I, ah, I don’t remember much from last night.”

“Well, the fact you believe I’m actually here is an improvement from last night.”

That had me frowning. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“Last night, when I got here, you were convinced I was a figment of your imagination.”

I cringed. Although, I wasn’t surprised. “Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have come over last night. It wasn’t a good time.”

She reached up and cupped my cheek in her palm as her gaze softened. “Where else would I be on the eighth of April?”

Pain pierced my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut against the onslaught.

“You shouldn’t know what the date means.”

Fuck, my voice sounded like I’d swallowed gravel.

“You know the FBI gave me a file on you before I ever met you. It was only facts and figures, nothing but dates and stats. It didn’t speak of the real you, didn’t tell me how the fuck a thirteen-year-old boy coped with not only losing his mother and sister, but also being shipped halfway across the world. And until last night, I had no idea you were left with a cruel and mean aunt.”

That had me wincing again. “Clearly I got way too chatty last night. I don’t remember, dammit.”

She smiled softly at me, easing some of my pain.

“Not too chatty. Although, you not believing I was real got a little frustrating.” She shifted and ran her palm over my chest. Over their names. “Tell me about them? The good. I don’t want to know about the end, but how they lived.”

That ache set up in my chest again. I did my best to not ever think about them. But maybe that was my problem. Just maybe, if I told Flick about them, just a little, it might help. Hell, I knew bottling it all up hadn’t ever helped one fucking bit. I closed my eyes and brought up their faces.

“Mum was the best. She kind of lost herself after my dad died, but before that, she was everything a kid could want in a mum. She was pretty, too. Blue eyes like mine. Aunt Pam always said I was a spitting image of my dad, but I remember my mum had the same color eyes as me. And dark brown, curly hair. When I was little, she had it long, hanging down to her butt. I think my dad must have liked it long. She cut it short a week after he died.

“You know my dad was a Marine?” She nodded. “I don’t remember much about him. He was off on deployment more often than not, but whether he was home or not, we’d go this little park down at the end of our street a few times a week. We’d take a picnic lunch down there if it wasn’t a school day.

“We lived in Newcastle, that’s on the east coast of Australia. Similar weather to here, actually. No snow in winter, but one year, we all went down to the ski fields for a holiday. Even though I was only seven, I still remember that trip. It was the last family trip we did before Dad died.

“After he was gone, Mum moved us down south. Not sure why she did that, but that was where she met that fucker Gordon. Only good thing about him was that I got Grace. She was this little bundle of energy. She got the blue eyes too, and had this reddish-blonde hair that was all tight curls and frizz. Used to drive Mum nuts when she’d try to brush it out. Not that my Gracie cared. Nope, that girl could have had dreadlocks and not cared one bit. I loved her so much, Flick.”

Fuck me, but my eyes were stinging. “She’d crash tackle me every fucking day when I got home from school. On the weekends she’d come jump on my bed until I got up to make her pancakes for breakfast. She was only three fucking years old when she died.”

I ran my palm up Flick’s back, before I stroked her face again. Her cheeks were wet with her tears, and I brushed them away. “She’d be twenty-three now, if she’d lived.” I stalled out, unable to speak. My heart ached from the memories, and from seeing Flick cry for me like she was.

“Only two years younger than me. I’m sure we would have been friends, that she would have helped me gang up on you.”

A short laugh left me. I hadn’t ever thought of what Grace would have been like as an adult before now. “Hell yeah, she would have. Damn, the two of you together would have had me running fucking scared, babe.”

I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead as I held her tightly against me.

“So, my curious kitty, you gonna tell me why you came over last night? After leaving me hanging for a fucking week?”

She pressed a kiss to my chest, making my heart skip a fucking beat.

“I missed you. Before I even made it back to Dallas, I missed you and wanted to turn the fuck around and come back here. But I had to deal with my job first. I didn’t go in until the next day, and even before I walked into my boss’s office, I knew my heart wasn’t in it anymore. Between falling for you, seeing how good life is within the club, and finding my brother and getting the answers I’d been searching for when I’d joined the FBI—not to mention, they didn’t respond to me hitting my panic button—I was more than ready to leave.”

“You ask your boss about that one?”

“Yeah, apparently they were tracking my GPS, and would have come for me eventually. But they didn’t want to blow my cover so were letting the Charons handle it.”

I could hear the anger in her voice. I didn’t blame her, I’d be furious over being abandoned like that.

“You know, the Charons would never do that. No matter how much trouble you’re in, we’ll always fucking come for one of our own.”

“Yeah, I get that. I haven’t spoken to Scout yet. I was hoping you could take me to him today? You know, if you still want me. You gave me the cut last night, but since you can’t remember doing it, and you were giving it to what you thought was an imaginary person, I’m not sure it counts.”

I’d gotten her in her cut and had forgotten it? Fuck me. That was a sight I never wanted to forget.

“It counts, kitty. You’re the only one who’ll ever wear my property patch. Fuck, I’m pissed I can’t remember that.”

She lifted a shoulder slightly. “Maybe you’ll remember later. You’re probably still half drunk at this point.”

“I’m sober enough to be hung over.”

She chuckled and the sound had me smiling. “That I believe. Anyhow, so I have all my worldly possessions sitting out in my car, I have no job, no place to live—”

“Bullshit. You’ll fucking live here. Forever. And your uncle will take you on. He’s been telling me all week how he hopes you’ll wake up and move down here. That, or you could go back to working at Styxx. You did good there, Nitro and everyone else down there likes having you around.”

Hope had flared bright when I’d seen her in my bed earlier. Now, with her saying she wanted to stay with me? I could see why I hadn’t believed she was real last night. Fuck, I was beginning to wonder if she was real this morning...or if maybe I was asleep.