Van would have never thought that he’d be marching up the front steps of his childhood home just two short weeks after escaping prison with a mob of bikers behind him. Once more Rabbit had proved his worth: the man had dug up years’ worth of dirt on James, including a recording of James planting the drugs in Van’s bag, which had apparently been deleted from the main server but backed up elsewhere. This was why Rabbit demanded such a high price for his work; the man was effective at what he did.
When Van had first looked through all the evidence at the safe house, Mike at his side and April patched in on Mike’s phone loud-speaker, he wanted nothing more than to get up, find his dad, and bash the fucker’s face into the nearest hard surface. April was the one to calm him, as she’d always done, and together the trio worked up a rational approach to what was supposed to happen that evening. First, they needed to share their findings with the men who wanted James out. The more people who saw the evidence, the better.
Once the ol’ gang had had a look through all the files and footage and listened to all the recordings, they were ready to toss James out into the dirt. No one wanted to contact the police—not yet, anyway. Van was still on the run, and there were a few incriminating files on guys who’d worked for James in the past but were totally clean now. Van wasn’t there to throw anyone under the bus, but it was time for his dad to go—far, far away.
As always, the front door was bolted shut, but a quick text to April let her know that justice had arrived. She was there in a flash, and when she opened the door, it took all his self-restraint not to pull her into his arms and kiss her. She’d spent most of her time flitting between the safe house the Palmer estate, and all the sneaking around had taken a toll on her. Heavy bags sat under her eyes, and she seemed paler than he remembered—paler than he liked, too. Once this was over, he planned to treat her like goddess she was: massage dates and home-cooked meals courtesy of him. Hell, he was ready to spring for a trip somewhere warm and tropical to thank her for everything she’d done.
And to show her just how much he loved her.
But he couldn’t express any of that in the heat of that moment, not with twenty guys waiting in the freezing cold, their blood boiling at the thought of all the shit his dad had pulled over the years.
“He’s in his study,” she said softly, as the crew traipsed in, and Van couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She leaned in, her hand falling to his arm, and it physically pained him to pull back.
“What is going on here?” Renee O’Hara-Palmer was a loose end they needed to tie up, but that was April’s job. The woman had suddenly emerged from the kitchen area, no doubt drawn by the noise. Van assumed April had kept her in the kitchen so that she and James weren’t together when everyone arrived. She’d been desperate to get her mom out of this marriage, and Van couldn’t blame her. When he promised he’d keep her and her mom safe, he meant it.
“Mom,” April said as she crossed the foyer, her hands up to catch the woman. Van, meanwhile, moved toward the spiral staircase, his little gang in tow. Over his shoulder, he heard April say, “We need to talk.”
Four words he hoped she’d never say to him—unless it was about her being pregnant. He could handle that “we need to talk” conversation at this point.
Just as April had said, Van found his father in the grandiose second floor study, seated behind an obnoxious desk whose corner had given Van a concussion when he’d fallen into it as a kid. The man looked up as soon as Van stepped into the room, his thick eyebrows downturned. Then, he threw his pen at the paperwork he’d been writing on.
“What the hell is this?” the old man demanded, his eyes flitting to all the other bikers before resting squarely on Van. “Looking to add a couple decades to your sentence? What the hell were you thinking breaking out of prison?”
“I was thinking that I shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” Van said, determined to keep his voice steady, as he stared at dad down. Somewhere behind him, someone shut the door firmly, and James rose to his feet. “I was thinking that someone had framed me, and I had to find out who. And now I know.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“It’s time for you to go, Dad,” Van announced, his supporters nodding beside him. “Your time in the club is over.”
James gave a sharp, barking laugh, his arms folding over his chest. “What is this? A mutiny?”
“Cut the crap, James,” Mike said, murmurs of agreement following. “We’ve turned a blind eye to your underhanded bullshit for years. You turned a respectable club into what everyone on the outside expects it to be. Drugs. Trafficking. Getting your boys involved in gang disputes. Putting your son in prison!”
“That’s nothing but a bunch of gossipy bullshit,” his dad stated with a slight shake of his head. “What are we? A bunch of women complaining? How I conduct my business is none of your concern—“
“It’s not just your business,” Ken barked, and the intonations of agreement grew louder this time. “As president, you make the best decisions you can for us. The club belongs to its members, not some dictator who’s been on his high-horse for too many years.”
Van couldn’t help but smile. He barely needed to say anything. As soon as the gang got started, they dug right into his dad, no holds barred. It seemed, for the first time in years, that people weren’t afraid of James Palmer anymore. Hell, even when he threatened to contact the police, all Van needed to do was show him the overwhelming amount of evidence that would land him a life behind bars.
James threw some of the files into his hearth with a snarl, watching as the paper curled in the flame.
“All of our files are backed up in multiple locations,” Van announced. “If you retaliate in any way, threaten anyone, we’ll send it to every police precinct in the state.”
“It’s over, Palmer,” Mike added, setting a reassuring hand on Van’s shoulder, as the two blocked the man’s escaped. “Your era has come to an end.”
***
April couldn’t let out a full breath until James’s car was off the driveway and hurrying away, a few bikers tailing him. Once he was officially gone, she let out a soft gasp and collapsed onto the bed in the guestroom she’d been using since she returned to Cascade Falls. Down the hall, her mom was heartbroken, but not completely surprised to learn about everything James had done. Apparently she’d always had a suspicion about him, but he’d never done anything to her specifically that made her want to follow-up on her feelings.
The look on her face when April told her that it was most likely James who had burned down her boutiques… Well, that was a look that would haunt April until the end of her days. She was thrilled that the old bastard had finally been chased out of town, forced out by Van and his gang of good guy bikers under an intense amount of blackmail, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty that she hadn’t done something sooner. All of this could have been avoided from the start if she’d just told someone about that day she and Van had had a paint fight and James threatened her in the bathroom. So much heartache. So much agony.
A soft tap on the door tore her from her thoughts, and April sat up quickly as Van slipped inside. The large house had finally fallen silent, the voices of the other bikers no longer echoing through the expansive halls and high-ceilinged rooms.
“Hey,” he said, crossing the room quickly to sit with her. “Are you okay?”
She shrugged, though she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her lips as she touched her hand to his cheek. He was so warm; she missed having him in her bed. “Better now. Is he… gone?”
“Yes.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “Yes, he’s gone.”
Exhaling shakily, April fell into his arms and let Van cradle her to him. This was what she wanted. Right there, in that moment… This was what made everything worthwhile.
As always when they were wrapped up in each other’s arms, it wasn’t long before their lips met. Gentle at first, she soon found herself pressed back against the bed, Van’s hips nestled between her readily parted thighs. He ground against her, as his mouth plundered hers, their tongues darting out to meet like old friends. All she wanted was to feel him, to taste him. She wanted him buried deep inside her, as she wrapped her arms around her neck, moaning in reckless abandon as they savored their victory.
But she’d been selfish enough.
“Van,” she whispered, arching her head up and out of his reach. He shot her a feral, hungry smile before adorning her neck with heated kisses, ones that sent wave after wave of need and desire pulsing through her. It would have been so easy to give in him, but she couldn’t. There was a sobbing woman down the hall who needed—and deserved—her undivided attention, even if it was only for tonight. “Wait, wait…” April sat up on her elbows and tried to wriggle away, but Van held tight, his fingertips pressing into her. “Wait.”
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, a flicker of concern flashing amidst the desire. She shook her head, as she took a few deep breaths.
“No, no, it’s just…” She cleared her throat, partially regretting stopping him. “I should be with my mom tonight. She’s pretty torn up that her marriage is basically over.”
She noticed how he bit down on his back teeth, jaw clenched in a way that wasn’t annoyance, just mild disappointment.
“You should be with her,” he said after a long moment, finally nodding and easing up on his grip. Her body protested the loss of contact, arching up against him before she reined her libido in. Van smirked, no doubt realizing that stopping was killing her just as much as it pained him. He then cupped her between her thighs, rubbing just enough to make her gasp, and whispered devilishly, “I suppose I can wait until tomorrow night to fuck you senseless.”
April let out a shaky breath, and it was Van who pulled away at last, taking with him the ceaseless tension that would drive her crazy if he stayed.
“I gotta get back to the safe house anyway,” he said with a sigh, running his hands through his hair as she straightened her clothes out. “There’s still a lot to do.”
But the most important goal was achieved: James Palmer, right now, was fleeing Cascade Falls with his tail between his legs. The thought brought a smile to her face, one that couldn’t be wiped away easily.
Hand-in-hand, they walked down to the front door, where Van pinned her against the wall once more to ravish her with his mouth, his lips, his teeth, and his tongue, before heading out into the dark, frigid night. April watched him go, her arms crossed, and smiled brighter once he was in Mike’s waiting car. She waved when someone honked at her, not going back into the Palmer estate—well, perhaps now the O’Hara estate, given the current occupants—until they disappeared down the main road.
And for the first time in a long time, April could let Van go, knowing that she would see him again and that they would be in one another’s arms soon.
Free and unburdened, like they were always meant to be.