“Baby,” I whisper, standing and leaning over her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She closes her eyes and when she opens them again, she flashes me a smile.
“Hey, you.”
I shake my head, cupping her face as softly as I can so I don’t hurt her. “Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” she answers, her voice scratchy and a dreamy smile on her face for a second before her eyes widen as she reaches up and grips my shirt in her hand. “The baby?”
I smile. “The baby is just fine, sweetheart.”
“I’m just going to give you two a little time,” Dr. Brewer says and Piper shakes her head, glancing over at her.
“No, wait… I wanted to thank you.”
Dr. Brewer’s eyes widen. “Why? You were in that situation because of me.”
“No, I wasn’t. But I knew what to do and how to handle Lillian in her fragile state because of you. You saved all of our lives.”
“Oh,” she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes.
“And there is something I wanted to ask you.”
Nodding, Dr. Brewer takes a step forward. “Okay…”
“Do you offer couples counseling?” Piper asks, looking up at me with a grin and I roll my eyes. Leave it to my wife to get shot at, kidnapped, and put in a coma for a day and half and still remember the promise I made her about counseling. Dr. Brewer glances between the two of us and nods.
“I do… but are you sure you wouldn’t prefer someone else?”
I shake my head. “Nah. Piper was right. This wasn’t your fault and honestly, you already know all about our past and you’re probably the best person to help us.”
“Okay, then,” she answers with a smile. “Call me when you’re feeling a little bit better and we’ll schedule something, okay?”
We agree and she tells us good-bye before stepping out of the room, leaving us alone. I turn to look at my wife, wishing I could pull her into my arms but I don’t want to hurt her and she is bruised everywhere.
“Lillian?” she asks with a sigh, looking up at me and I shake my head. Tears well up in her eyes and she nods. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I know she was your friend before all of this happened but I can’t be sad that she’s dead. You’re my everything and I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”
She nods. “I can’t believe I never saw it…”
“It sounds like she did a very good job of hiding how she really was,” I say and she nods with another heavy sigh.
“I know you’re right. I just wish I could have helped her.”
I flash her a grin and her eyebrows knit together as she stares up at me. “Well, look on the bright side, we can talk about it in therapy.”
“If I didn’t love you so much,” she growls, shaking her head and I laugh.
“Yeah, but you do and now… you’re stuck with me forever.”
Her green eyes meet mine again and fear flashes through her gaze for just a moment. My heart stalls. “You promise? Even with all the shit going on with the club?”
“Yeah, I do, baby. I know I’ve said this before but I’m not letting anything come between us and this time, I’m going to prove it to you - every single day, for the rest of our lives.”
She and I have a lot of work to do and I’m not under the impression that it will be easy but if I’ve learned anything in the past two months, it’s that my life is better with her in it and I will do whatever I have to do to make this work. Piper is my whole fucking world and I am never going back to the man I was before she walked into my life again.
Epilogue
I take a drag of my cigarette, the smoke burning my lungs, as I scan the clubhouse parking lot but it is nothing compared to the rage burning through my chest as I watch them all gather to celebrate Fuzz and Piper renewing their vows.
How fucking sweet.
When I first heard of this impromptu wedding, a part of me hated the idea of letting them take a break from the panic and paranoia I’ve instilled in all of their hearts and minds but after taking some time to think about it, I decided this was better. It’s my little gift to them, the only small instance of charity they’ll see from me. So, let them celebrate and be happy for this one day before I rip it all away.
Brutally.
Violently.
In a pool of blood.
It’s what they deserve. I clench my teeth so hard that my jaw aches as I watch Fuzz step up to the end of the aisle in his cut with Streak and Smith on his side. He rubs his hands together, waiting for his bride to join him as all of his brothers and their wives look on with smiles on their faces.
Not for long, though.
God, what I wouldn’t give to carve those grins from their faces.
I am so close to ending this, so close to getting the one thing I have wanted more than anything else in the world for as long as I can remember - justice. There is a pounding in my ears and my hands shake, rage coursing through my veins as I think about everything they did to me, everything they took from me. I used to fucking be somebody and then they came into my life. My thoughts drift to the plans I have laid out for them and I smile. It’s taken me a hell of a long time to put all of this together and most days, I hated how long I had to draw this all out. I wanted action and I wanted it now but I also wanted to inflict the most pain, the most suffering possible and that takes time. Now, this is almost over and when I’m done, they’ll be left with the same thing I have.
Nothing.
Wicked Games
Bayou Devils MC
Book Eight
Chapter One
Rowan
“Are you guys ready for our little dark-haired beauty?” Max, Skin’s resident DJ asks, his booming voice full of energy as it echoes off the walls of the club. The men scattered around the room barely look up from their drinks to give him a few seconds of unenthusiastic applause and I grit my teeth as I shake my hands out and stretch for my dance. Just like them, I wish I was anywhere else but here tonight. Max glances over at me and offers me an apologetic look but I shake my head. I don’t blame him for the poor attitude in this place right now. He’s a damn good DJ but I think it would take an act of God to rouse the spirits of the people in this club. Sighing, he raises the microphone to his lips again and winks in my direction. I straighten my body and suck in a breath.
Showtime.
“Welcome to the stage… Raven!” He drags my stage name out for emphasis and I roll my eyes. Mr. Alexander, my boss, thought he was so clever when he assigned that nickname to me since I’m the only girl at this club with dark hair. At first, I embraced it - making myself seem more mysterious than I really am but the more I hear it shouted through the speakers, the more it grates on my nerves. My song begins to play - “Sweet Dreams” by Marilyn Manson - and like an elastic band snapping into place, I feel myself becoming Raven as I step out onto the stage and strut toward the center in my six-inch platform heels. As I wrap my fingers around the cool metal of the pole, I look around the room and try to fight back my disgust at the disinterested expressions staring back at me. Some of them are leaning back in their chairs and sipping their drinks while others are obviously drowning their pain in booze and faceless women. In the end, though, it all boils down to the same thing. There isn’t a single person that wants to spend their Thanksgiving in a seedy strip club instead of with family but some of us don’t have any other option.