Now, with the sun streaming through his window, the last thing in the world he wanted to do was get up and finish his job. He hadn’t been lying when he told Jude that he’d die for his club—that he’d take a bullet to the head for any one of them. But for the first time in his life, he also wanted to survive it all.
With a small growl, he rubbed his hands over his face, then shuffled into the bathroom and showered. He took his time, ignoring his morning wood, though it was almost impossible when every time he blinked, he saw Jude’s parted lips and flushed cheeks. He nearly came at the memory of how Jude felt, pumping his dick along his tongue, the head brushing the back of his throat, the taste of his come as he swallowed it down.
He was hard as steel as he turned the water off, and it took him twice as long to tuck himself behind his zipper. Bracing his hands on the sink, Kicks stared at himself—at the man he’d become. His fingers dug into his eyelid, prying it open, staring at the pale pink implant. This wasn’t the face of the boy his parents had named. It wasn’t the face of Emilio—the smart-mouthed asshole who signed up for basic and strolled through the weeks there like he was above it all.
This was the face of a man who realized that life was fucking pointless—that it was struggle and pain until you died. The man who was tied to a goddamn radiator and beaten within an inch of his life. This was the man who woke up in a hospital bed with half his vision gone and scars that would never go away.
He had felt something cathartic and important when Hawke had inked those fractured, beaten wings across his back, but he hadn’t ever really felt settled. Not before this. He didn’t want to lay that all at Jude’s feet, but he also knew himself better than that. He knew he couldn’t ignore the reality—the man had changed things.
And if he’d been anyone else in the world, Kicks might have gone running.
Blowing out a puff of air, he threw pomade into his hair, then scrubbed his teeth and went in search of his cut, which was lying at the foot of his dresser. He slid it on over his t-shirt, then grabbed his eye and ignored the faint sting of his irritated lid as he slid it into place.
Running his thumb over his officer patch, he shoved all thoughts of Jude and love and everything else that came with the mess of that man falling into his life, into the shadows of his mind. He had to focus. Taking care of club business had to come first.
Kicks half-expected Maddie to still be asleep, but he came to a skidding halt when he found her sitting at the breakfast counter, kicking her legs as she spooned massive bites of cereal into her mouth.
“Melly!” she mumbled.
“Chew your food, monster,” he warned her, ruffling her hair before moving to the counter where Jude was standing. There was coffee made, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and running his nose against Jude’s cheek as he grabbed a mug. “Good morning.”
Jude let out a quiet hum, his eyes closed, mouth tipped in a smile. “Sleep alright?”
Kicks offered him a noncommittal noise as he filled his mug, then took a drink, letting it soothe the back of his throat. He had a long few days ahead of him, and while he knew he could focus, he was leaving a piece of himself behind in this house. He wasn’t sure what the hell kind of future he and Jude could really have, but it was in that moment—with the sun streaming through the window, and Maddie eating her breakfast, and Jude humming quietly as he washed a couple of dishes—that he realized he was willing to go through hell to keep it.
“Mimi and Logan are going to be here soon,” Kicks said as he set his mug down. “They’re going to stay here with you and Jude until I get back.”
Maddie looked at him, her head cocked to the side. “Are some bad guys coming?”
Kicks shook his head, grateful he wasn’t lying to her. Everything was quiet—and that in itself was nerve-wracking—but all of his investigations had turned up nothing. Hydra had gone underground. It wouldn’t last—he wasn’t stupid enough to think that. But for now, they had time.
They had a taste of peace again.
“Nope, they just want to hang out. I’m going on a little trip with Rory and Hawke, and we’ll be back in two days.”
“I guess that’s fine,” she said, then pushed her bowl so hard, it nearly toppled off the counter. Jude caught it in time with a laugh, and before Kicks could scold her, she jumped off the stool and made a run for the back door.
“Sorry,” Kicks began, but Jude waved him off.
“I’m having fun. Especially since she’s not mine,” he added with a wink, and Kicks couldn’t help a small chuckle, even as Jude sobered. “I never did think I’d get to be the fun uncle. Eliah and I were too alike in that regard.”
Kicks could see that. The brothers couldn’t be more different, in spite of sharing the same face, but there were moments they resembled each other so much, it was startling. “You’d make a great dad though, if you ever changed your mind.”
Jude’s brows lifted, and he took a couple of steps closer. Kicks noticed he wasn’t limping as much, and he was bearing weight on his brace better than he had in days. There was barely an inch between them when he finally stopped, then a warm hand reached up and cupped Kicks’ cheek. Unable to stop himself, Kicks curled his fingers around Jude’s wrist, and he pressed his hand against his face until he could feel a pulse beating. “I won’t change my mind,” he murmured softly. “I hope that’s not a deal breaker.”
Kicks couldn’t do anything but smile a little helplessly and lean in to kiss him. “Nah. I mean, we might have to have a talk about this fuckin’ tea nonsense, but the kid thing—I can live with it.”
Jude laughed against his lips, which turned into a gasp as Kicks pressed him back against the counter and deepened the kiss. Jude was hard in his sweats, his cock pressed into Kicks’ stomach, and he wanted nothing more than to lift him onto the counter, pull his pants down to his ankles, and swallow him until he came.
Instead, he pulled away at the faint sound of motorcycles rumbling toward the house. His head spun a little with how much he desperately wanted release, but his erection wilted at the sound of Maddie’s excited shout. He was happy to have her—he was always happy to have her—but he was starting to resent not having these last few moments alone with Jude.
“It’ll keep,” Jude said, very softly, and Kicks didn’t need him to elaborate.
He didn’t bother sticking around long after Gunner and Logan arrived. Gunner seemed on edge. He hated being relegated to babysitter, but his name wasn’t especially popular in other clubs, especially after word spread that cops had been involved twice where Gunner was concerned. Kicks knew he’d eventually outgrow the reputation, but it would take a while. And it would take work on their part to reassure their allies that it wasn’t going to happen again.
It did help that Nate had publicly resigned. His reputation around other clubs as Ghost had never faded, and though Kicks had only made a few calls, his name was on the lips of more than one club member. He wasn’t sure if others wanted to court him, or if they wanted to take him out—but he knew he had to tread carefully where the ex-sheriff was concerned.
He felt a little antsy as he rolled out, meeting Hawke at his shop. He balanced his bike between his legs as he waited for the Enforcer to lock up, then shot him a quick salute as he slung his bag over his shoulder.