The men fill the room, standing room only. A mix of Idaho and Cali brothers surround me, and we’re all melancholy. One of our own hurt the women of the Devils. Not just girlfriends, not just whores, but Old Ladies. He hurt them in a way that wouldn’t be acceptable for any of our women, girlfriends and whores alike—but for Old Ladies? I shake my head in disgust.
“All right, I have an update,” MadDog announces as he slams down his gavel, his voice booming throughout the room.
We all settle and wait for him to continue.
“Called Oliver. Fuck, those Russian’s really got a great tech guy,” he says, shaking his head with a grin tipping his lips. “Anyway, Drifter’s real name was Joshua Thompson. He’s a third-generation white supremacist. He infiltrated the club when he was eighteen, and it was his job to be eyes and ears for his family, especially when I accepted a contract with the fuckers. When shit went down, and when Kentlee was kidnapped, only a small portion of their crew was killed. He chose to stay, played the part of devoted VP to the Devil’s, and continued to feed information to the Aryans. He would feed them information on Old Ladies. Most of the time, women that either were separated from their Old Men, so they wouldn’t be looked for awfully hard, with the assumption they had just run off.”
I close my eyes at his words. Disgusted by this man I called a brother for my entire fucking life. A man I thought was my fucking family. Disgusted with my fucking self too, for leaving Cleo the way I did, for leaving her open to be a goddamn target the way I did.
“The Cartel was easy to get in on it. The Aryan’s paid them to get the girls, and they happily took and sold the women. Since they fuckin’ love that shit anyway. Anytime they had a girl that didn’t fit the Aryan’s need, they’d put them up to sell to someone else. I don’t know if we’ll ever find out exactly how many women were taken,” MadDog murmurs.
“Fuck, how many times does this shit gotta happen?” I ask, my face twisting in anger. “Where are all the pregnant women?”
“Pregnant?” Fury asks in confusion.
“The one’s we found, they said every time a woman got pregnant, they never saw her again. They’re somewhere,” I state.
“Fuck,” MadDog hisses.
“Yeah, fuck. How do we find them?” I ask.
I don’t know why it’s so fucking important to me, but maybe it’s just because Cleo could have been one of them. We don’t know how long this has been going on. Probably years. How many women could that be? Dozens, hundreds?
“We need a meeting, a charter wide meeting, all of the presidents. Set that up for me?” MadDog asks, turning to Fury.
“Yeah, Pops,” he nods.
“I’ll call the Russian’s, see if their man can find anything else on those racist fucks. Maybe he can find their hidey hole,” he grumbles.
“You know they’re livin’ off the grid in bunkers,” I grunt.
“Probably, but they’re gonna fuck up again. We’ll find them when they do, and kill every single fucking one of them,” he booms, his angry voice bouncing off of the walls.
Church ends, and everybody disperses, the room feeling heavy with the weight of our new knowledge. I have no desire to drink, or to do anything but hold my woman. She’s breathin’, alive and safe.
I march back to my room. Cleo’s curled in a ball, and I strip off my clothes before I crawl in behind her, wrapping my arms around her perfect, curvy, soft body.
I don’t fall asleep. How can I sleep? I’ll probably never sleep again. My wife was taken, touched by another man, and almost raped. I move my hand from around her waist to rest just above her tit, feeling her heart pound beneath my palm. She’s alive, she’s breathing, she’s unhurt, but that doesn’t mean that I will ever rest easy again.
My phone buzzes from my jeans pocket on the floor, and I reach down, quietly answering it without moving around too much.
“Is she okay?” Lisandro asks.
I’d called him when everything went down, then sent a text when I got her, then called him again once the doc checked her out.
“She’s sleepin’ now,” I murmur.
“When can we see her?” he asks.
I can’t help my lips from tipping in a smile at his question. He’s asking me, not demanding, and I like that. I tell him to come down anytime. She’ll probably be sleeping for a while, but they can text me when they’re almost here and I’ll wake her up. He thanks me and I end the call.
Lisandro and Theo are so important to Cleo that I can’t imagine them not being part of her life anymore. They’re part of her, they love her, and they’re her family. With her comes them, and I’m grateful for that. My woman should have the love of good people, and they’re good men. No, they’re great fuckin’ men.
Cleo rolls over in my arms as soon as I turn back to face her. I watch as her eyes flutter open and a smile appears on her lips.
“Why’re you awake?” I ask as I trail my fingers up her back, beneath the shirt of mine she’s wearing.
“Missed your weight against me. Woke me up,” she shrugs.
“You doin’ okay?” I ask as my eyes take her in.
“I am. It was scary, but I’m okay,” she whispers.
“Good. Think you could handle me bein’ inside you?” I ask as I lower my head and press my lips to hers once. I then move my mouth to her neck and lick her soft skin.
“Yeah,” she breathes as she trembles lightly in my arms.
I move my hand down to her waist, then her hip, before I dip beneath the sweats she’s wearing and push them down over her ass. My fingers gently caress her skin before I cup her pussy with my palm, squeezing gently as my lips continue to kiss her neck, my tongue tasting her every so often.
“Pax,” she hums.
“Thought I would never touch you again, sweetheart,” I murmur as I slide two fingers inside of her warm pussy.
She moans as she widens her legs and falls onto her back. I roll with her, covering half of her body with mine as I continue to fuck her with my fingers, enjoying the little whimpering sounds she’s starting to make as her hips move beneath my touch.
“Paxton,” she moans as her hand wraps around the side of my neck. Her hips thrust up, and she grinds her clit against my palm.
“Fuck, Cleo. Come all over my hand,” I groan against her neck, feeling her pussy flutter around my fingers.
It doesn’t take her long; her hips start to jerk, and then she throws back her head as her pussy squeezes my fingers. She cries out as her release consumes her. I let her completely control the moment, until her body relaxes and she looks up at me, her face flush, and a smile playing on her lips.
I pull her sweats the rest of the way off, along with her panties, then I push my boxer briefs down before I settle between her legs and guide my cock to push against her center. I slowly sink inside of her, pushing her shirt over her tits, making sure my gaze is focused on hers as I bury myself inside of her.
“I love you,” she whispers.
Once I’m fully seated inside of her, I shudder. She’s so goddamn tight, so warm, and all mine. My eyes scan down her bruised throat and I tamp down the anger that begins to build at the fact that a man hurt her, my wife.
“Move, please,” she whines.
“No,” I grind through clenched teeth.
“Paxton.”
“Thought I’d never have this again, for the third time. Let me feel you for a bit, Clee,” I rumble.
His words almost undo me. I hold it together, but just barely, as he starts to move inside of me. His strokes are long, slow, and purposeful. He wants me to feel every single inch of him as he feels every piece of me.
My body starts to heat as I climb toward my second release. Paxton’s eyes focus on mine, and one of his hands plays with my nipple. The other hand rests next to my head to keep the majority of his weight off of me. Keeping my grasp around his neck, I roll my hips so that our strokes meet, lifting my legs around his waist.
“You’re never allowed out of my sight again,” he murmurs. I laugh softly, but he’s serious as he continues to gently thrust inside of me.
“Paxton,” I whisper.
“Never, Cleo. Fuckin’ almost lost you, again. Promise me.”
He’s serious, completely serious as he takes me in, waiting for my response while his body owns me, the way that it always has and always will. I think about the crazy as shit things that have happened over the past couple of months, and I can’t say if the roles were reversed that I wouldn’t feel the same. Maybe in a couple months he’ll feel better and I can go back to work for Lisandro, but for now, I need to give him peace of mind.
“Okay,” I say on a moan.
He doesn’t say anything. His hand leaves my breast and wraps around the back of my knee, lifting and spreading me even wider as he starts to fuck me, hard and rough. I throw my head back on a long moan, loving the way he crashes into me with each thrust of his hips.
It doesn’t take long before I’m sweating. Then, without warning, I come. Like a freight train, it completely takes over me, and I start to shake beneath him. After a few hard thrusts, he groans before he collapses on me and buries his face in my neck.
“Never leavin’ me again, sweetheart,” he murmurs against my sweat soaked skin.
“Okay, Pax,” I whisper, my fingers tracing his back, gently.
“Mmmm,” he hums. “Feel’s good.”
We fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, but not for long. A few hours later, the phone rings and Paxton groans before he rolls off of me to answer it. Then his eyes move to me and he grins as he hangs up.
“Get dressed, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
“Why?” I groan, unable to open my eyes.
“Because two men are feeling particularly excited to give you a hug and check you out,” he chuckles.
“Lis and Theo?” I ask, sitting straight up.
“Yeah, hop up. You have enough time for a quick shower and to throw some shit on. I think you still got somethin’ in a drawer,” he shrugs as he stands.
I watch him pull his jeans up over his glorious naked ass, and I shiver before I pull his shirt over me and walk over to his dresser to look around for some clothes. I find a pair of shorts I left here, but nothing else. I take them, along with a tank of his, and a towel to the showers.
I shower quickly, and throw my clothes on, tying a knot in the oversized black tank, wishing that I at least had a bra. One glance in the mirror, and I can clearly see my nipple rings on proud display through the tank. I have no other choice, though.
I avoid the one thing I hate looking at every time I glance in the mirror, my scar, and let out an exhale. I hurry to the bar, barefoot, my hair in a messy knot on top of my head, but my only focus is seeing Lis and Theo.
Once I’m in the bar area, I see a bunch of brothers, a whole lot of women, and Paxton, who is standing, facing me with a beer dangling from his fingertips. His brows rise when his eyes fall to my breasts and then he looks back up at me. I watch as a lazy grin appears on his lips. I walk over to him, waiting for what, I’m not sure. I can’t really read him.
“No bra,” he whispers, lifting his thumb to glide over my nipple bar.
“I don’t have one here,” I whisper.
“Sexy,” he murmurs before he dips his head and I feel his breath against my ear.
“You aren’t angry?” I breathe as his lips touch my neck.
“For what?”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious I’m showing more that I normally would,” I say, backing up slightly as I look into his eyes. I watch his lazy grin appear again, and then he bites his bottom lip before he speaks.
“Sweetheart, what the fuck do I care if another man looks at my gorgeous wife? Nobody touches without permission, but your tits are fantastic—be a shame to keep them under lock and key all the time,” he chuckles.
“Paxton Hill,” I gasp.
“Don’t give a fuck if someone looks, not while you’re on my arm with my ring on your finger,” he grins.
“I thought you’d be all jealous,” I mutter, looking down at my bare feet.
“Want me to be?” he asks, arching a brow. “Want me to kill any man that looks in your direction? For you, sweetheart, I’d fuckin’ do it.”
“No,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“No reason to be jealous. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, you’re comin’ on my cock, you’re mine,” he shrugs before he lifts his beer bottle to his lips and takes a pull.
“This is all true,” I agree.
“Cleo! Oh, my god,” Lisandro’s loud voice screeches from the front door.
I peak around Paxton’s body and see he’s standing there, looking so disheveled I hardly recognize him.
“Go give him a hug, baby,” Paxton mutters.
I look up to him, smile, and then take off toward Lisandro. He opens his arms to accept me, and I don’t stop until I’ve crashed into his body, my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.
“I was so worried,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me.
“I’m okay,” I say as I slide down his body and give him a grin.
“You’re bruised,” Theo growls.
“The only marks on me, so I’m good. I’m breathing, I’m with my family. God is good,” I grin. Both Theo and Lis shake their heads.
“God is good,” Mary-Anne chimes in from next to us. She’s sitting at a pub table, her hand resting on her baby belly, and a smile playing on her lips.
“Well, yes, thank goodness you weren’t really hurt,” Lis says with ruffled feathers.
“Yes, thank goodness,” I giggle.
“Clee,” he hisses. I look at him in confusion, then realize he’s focused on my breasts.
“Pierced. Diamonds,” I state.
“You little freak. I love it,” he chuckles as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. “Everything’s good then?” he whispers.
“He doesn’t want me to leave his sight for, like, ever,” I mutter.
“Everything’s good,” he grins. “You do that. For a while, at least.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I grin.
“I need a fuckin’ beer,” Theo groans before he walks past us and up to the bar.
“I may have been completely freaked out, and probably drove him to the brink of looney,” Lis announces with a shrug and a smile.
“You better make it up to him,” I say.
“Planning on it—.” He opens his mouth, but I hold my hand up, not wishing to hear exactly how he’s going to make anything up to Theo.
“Don’t wanna know,” I mumble.
“I kinda want to know,” Mary-Anne grins as MadDog wraps his arm around her waist and lays a possessive hand on her belly.
“Sweetness,” he grunts.
“What? Maybe it’ll give me an education and ideas,” she says as her eyes dance with mischievousness.
“I like her,” Lis announces as he turns his head to look at me.
We all laugh and, thankfully, Lisandro doesn’t tell me whatever it is he’s going to do to make up his freak-out at Theo. Lis doesn’t hide much and I already know way more than I should about his sex life pre-Theo and post-Theo.
We spend the next few hours chatting, drinking, and one by one, the women who were saved come and join us. The whores are nowhere to be seen, and it makes me wonder if they were warned to stay away.
There’s a pizza run when people start getting hungry. There’s no drama, no naked women, no screwing and nothing crazy. It’s just people, friends, and family, hanging out and relaxing after a stressful as shit day.
Paxton stays either in my line of sight or at my side the entire evening, and it makes me feel comforted and good. Almost as if he’s wrapping a warm blanket straight from the dryer around me.
“Never thought I’d see you this happy. I’d hoped, but honest, I never thought it would happen. Then all that shit started piling up, you getting shot and kidnapped, and this whole rough club business—I thought there was no way you’d stay with him, and that you’d smile the way you’re smiling now.”
“Theo,” I whisper.
“I can’t wait for the rest of your life to play out,” Theo murmurs as he slips his arm around my shoulders and hugs me to his side.
“How do you think it will?” I ask, arching a brow.
“I think it’s going to be wild and crazy, but I think it’s going to be full of so much love and laughter, too. I think that after your years of being shut down and shut off that it’s going to fill you up with emotion, every fucking second of it.”
“You’re making me cry,” I breathe as I wipe the tears from my eyes.
“Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings for you, Cleo,” he murmurs.
“Sweetheart?” Paxton says as he walks up to us, his brow furrowed in worry.
“I’m okay,” I grin with trembling lips.
“Yeah. Ready for bed?” he asks.
I nod but don’t walk away immediately. I wrap my arms around Theo and give him a hug, then I make my way to a very drunk Lisandro and give him a hug as well. I grip my hand around Paxton’s, and I let him lead me up to bed. Theo is right, I’ve never been so happy in all of my life.
Kidnapping, shooting, none of it matters. I have Paxton at my side, always looking out for me. I couldn’t make it if he weren’t, and I wasn’t living when he wasn’t. I was a shell, barely surviving. But now? I feel everything, and what I feel for him is everything, too.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispers as he pulls me close to his side once we’re undressed and beneath the sheets.
“I never stopped loving you, Paxton,” I confess.
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs, rolling on top of me.
I giggle as he kisses me, his tongue soft and wet, but insistent, sliding inside of my mouth. I don’t resist him at all, opening up for him the way I always have. This man—he has always been it for me, and I’ve always been his. Neither of us were really ready when we met all those years ago, still trying to find our footing in life.
It’s true, he hurt me when he left; but he thought he was saving me from a lifetime of pain. No matter what, we lost years of being together—but in doing that, I gained independence and he found a family and a home. He worked through his demons, and I believe, although he’s rough around the edges, he’s a better man for it.
The love of my life.
Paxton Hill.