Or, at least, it had been working for the past seven months. The future remained unknown. I could always head back to my mother’s place in San Francisco. Which I would. Especially if Cage kept demanding I be his beer wench.
Married or not, Cage did not own me.
I don’t care if the four letters, C-A-G-E, which had been tattooed around my left ring finger the night he married me, suggested otherwise.
“It is not the same fuckin’ thing!” Deuce yelled as I crossed the kitchen, holding Cage’s bottle of beer like a baseball I was about to whip at him.
Cage gaped at his father. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, you motherfuckin’ hypocrite?”
“Now what?” I asked Ripper who stood a few feet from father and son, smirking.
“They started goin’ at it ’bout an upcomin’ job and I made the mistake of tellin’ ’em how alike they fuckin’ sounded. Started up a new round of bullshit.”
Cage’s head whipped left and he glared at Ripper. “I am nothin’ like him.”
Deuce’s beer slammed down on the counter. “No fuckin’ shit!” he yelled. “If you were, you wouldn’t be havin’ so much fuckin’ trouble out in Oakland!”
Cage’s nostrils began to flare. “Who the fuck said I was havin’ trouble?” he demanded. “Just ’cause I ain’t doin’ shit your way doesn’t mean I’m doin’ it wrong!”
Deuce’s nostrils began flaring as well. “Get your damn head outta your ass, boy. You keep this stupid shit up, I’m gonna promise you right the fuck now, I ain’t ever gonna die. I’m gonna live for-fuckin’-ever just to make sure you don’t run my damn club into the ground.”
Cage glared at his father, and unsurprisingly, Deuce glared right back at him.
Ripper burst out laughing and both Cage and Deuce turned their glares on him. Clutching his abdomen, Ripper doubled over, laughing harder.
“You should see your faces,” he gasped between laughs. “You two fuckers look exactly the same. Fuckin’…priceless.”
“Shut up,” Deuce growled at the same time as Cage muttered, “Asshole.”
They turned their glares back on each other.
Exasperated, I shoved Cage’s beer at his chest, gave him a mock curtsy while flipping him off, before whirling around and quickly exiting the kitchen. Three morons in one room was just too much moron for me to handle.
“Give it back! Moooooooooooooommmmm! Devin won’t give it back!”
My back hit the stair railing as Devin came running by me, laughing hysterically, closely followed by his little brother. When they’d disappeared into the living room, the coat closet door opened and Kami peeked her head out.
“Was that one of mine?” she whispered, looking around the foyer.
“Kami, get out of the damn closet!” Eva snapped. “And put some clothes on!” Holding a red-faced and crying Damon in her arms, she paused in front of me. “Hey, Tegen,” she said. “When did you get here?”
The door to the coat closet opened wider and Cox poked his head out from behind Kami, who, from what I could tell, was half-naked. “About five minutes ago,” he said.
“Excuse me,” Kami said. “But I look better without clothes on.”
“Mom!” Diesel screamed. Cursing, Cox pulled Kami back inside the closet and slammed the door closed.
Reaching up, I pinched the bridge of my nose. Only five minutes in the West home and I already had a migraine from hell.
Sidestepping children, I hurried through the living room, then the family room where Harley was sound asleep on the couch, before bursting outside the back door and nearly collapsing onto the deck.
“Having fun?”
Danny, pretty in pukey-pink, sat on the top of the railing, a joint pressed between her lips. Taking it between her index and middle finger, she pulled it from her mouth and offered it to me.
“It helps,” she said, smiling. “With the family-induced headache.”
“Hell fucking yes,” I breathed.
Taking the joint from her, I took a long, throat-burning drag and held it for as long as I could before blowing it out in a coughing burst.
“How’s it going with the book?” she asked.
I took another drag before answering.
“Three more rejection letters,” I said, shrugging. “Apparently, no one wants to read about the mismanaged priorities of American society.”
Danny grinned as she gestured for the joint. I handed it back to her, then hefted myself up on the railing beside her.
“It’s cool,” I said. “I started something else, a lot tamer, more mainstream. Romance fiction. Boring, actually. You’d probably love it.”
Danny cut her eyes at me. “Don’t start with me, little sister.”
“Why not?” I asked, grinning. “It’s so much fun.”
“Have I ever told you,” she said, glaring at me, “how perfect you and my brother are for each other?”
“Have I ever told you,” I shot back, “how insanely bright your clothing is? I mean, shit, Danny, where do you find this crap? Did Skittles come out with a clothing line?”
Danny opened her mouth just as the back door slammed open, causing both of us to jump.
“Dinner,” Deuce growled. “Get your dope-smokin’ asses in-fuckin’-side.”
Jumping off the railing, Danny shoved her joint at me.
“It was Tegen’s idea,” she said, slipping past her father and disappearing inside. “She peer-pressured me!”
“Liar!” I yelled, jumping down. Tossing the joint over the railing, I made to follow her inside but Deuce stepped in front of me, blocking the door.
“Great,” I muttered. “What the fuck did I do now?”
To my surprise, Deuce grinned and I could do nothing but stare at the nearly identical but older version of the man I loved. Deuce and Cage might not be pretty-boy beautiful, but they were no less breathtaking.
But…none of that beauty made up for their shitty, sexist piggishness.
“You gotta minute?” he asked.
“Do I have a choice? I can’t exactly walk through you.”
More grinning. Jeez. Was he drunk?
“Wanted you to know I still ain’t heard jack shit about ZZ,” he said. “Not since one of Hawk’s contacts saw him out in Vegas. I’m guessin’ he went off the grid.”
I nodded. A few months ago a nomad that Hawk would occasionally run into while on the road spotted ZZ in Las Vegas at an underground fight club. He wasn’t taking bets or running security. He was fighting. Without protective gear, bare-knuckled.
And the guy he fought, he killed. In fact, according to the nomad, ZZ continued to beat on him long after the man was dead.
No one had seen him since and I doubted anyone was ever going to hear from ZZ again. He’d been a Horseman; he knew the punishment for trying to kill a brother. And Deuce was looking for him, Deuce wasn’t going to stop either. If I were ZZ, I would have gone off the grid too. Fuck, I would have gone to Mars.
“And I got somethin’ for you,” he said as he reached into his back pocket.
I took the worn and cracked photograph from Deuce and stared down at the very young girl. I could see the family resemblance, the dimples it seemed Deuce had gotten from his mother.
“I can’t take this,” I told him, knowing that Deuce never knew her, that this photo was all he’d ever had of her.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ can,” he said gruffly. “It’s all I can fuckin’ give her now. She deserved somethin’ good, deserved to be my old man’s old lady, treated with respect, and she never fuckin’ got it. But Eva’s got it and you’re gonna have it too.
“He don’t know it yet,” he continued. “But Cage is gonna need you more than he thinks. Sooner than he thinks too. I’m steppin’ down soon, Tegen, gonna be passin’ him the gavel and you being his old lady, you needed to know first. This job ain’t easy, but havin’ a good woman who’s got your back at the club when you’re on the road—havin’ her to come home to—that shit makes it a fuck of a lot easier to keep fuckin’ goin’.
“The two of you, Tegen, are gonna be the only ones keepin’ this club above ground. Holdin’ those boys together, their women and their families. Shit gets hard, they’re gonna come to you, they’re gonna be expectin’ you to fix it. I ain’t gonna lie and tell you it’s gonna be easy ’cause more often than not it’s gonna straight-up fuckin’ suck. You’re gonna fight, you’re gonna wanna run, but I say it to all my boys’ old ladies, and I mean it every damn time, only when I say it to you, I ain’t just gonna be sayin’ it for the sake of sayin’ it. You’re different, you’re gonna be the prez’s old lady, you’re gonna have to eat, sleep, and fuckin’ breathe the life, Tegen.
“You love the man,” he said. “You—”
“Love the life,” I finished for him. “I know.”
Deuce paused and stared down at me.
“Do you?” he asked quietly. “Tegen, I know we talked this shit over before but this here is the real fuckin’ deal and I can’t be havin’ my boy as prez of my club with a woman by his side who can’t hold her own. It’s gonna be your job to make sure he’s stayin’ level-headed, to keep the boys’ women and kids happy in their absence, to keep their fuckin’ secrets too.”
“I can’t always love what goes on in the club,” I told him truthfully.
Deuce’s hard gaze never wavered. “You don’t have to love what goes on. You only have to love the club and I know you love the club, Tegen. I know you love those boys. I know you wouldn’t want anything to happen to them.”
I blew out a large breath. “I’m not Eva,” I told him. “There are just some things I won’t turn a blind eye on.”
“Darlin’,” he said, laughing. “When Cage gets the gavel, what you do and don’t got a problem with, that’s gonna be his fuckin’ problem to be dealin’ with, not mine.”
I narrowed my eyes. Darlin’ and dimples. This fucker was pulling out the big guns.
“This is so unfair,” I said. “I never asked for this sort of responsibility.”
Unfazed, Deuce turned away from me and started heading inside.
“Yeah, you did,” he said over his shoulder. “You made up your mind the day you decided you loved my boy.”
Alone now, I glanced down at the picture of Deuce’s mother and stared into the eyes of the girl who’d never been given the crown she’d deserved, and I wondered what had become of her.
“All right,” I told her, sighing. “What do you say you and me give this shit a shot? What’s the worst that could happen?”
Realizing what I’d just said, I wrinkled up my nose. “Wait,” I said. “Don’t answer that.” Tucking the photo in the back pocket of my jeans, I headed inside.
Everyone was already seated around the table by the time I reached the kitchen. I slid into my usual chair beside Cage, directly across the table from Ripper. Cage’s arm came down heavy across my shoulders.
“Oh, hell no!” Eva suddenly yelled, slapping Deuce’s hand off the salt shaker.
“Reel it the fuck in,” he growled, reaching for it again.
Ripper’s arm shot forward, grabbing it before Deuce could. Deuce shot up out of his chair and Ripper sent it flying over the table, straight into Cox’s waiting hand where he promptly shoved the salt shaker down the front of his leathers.
“Come and get it,” Cox taunted.
“You are fuckin’ fired,” Deuce said, glaring at him.
“Reel it in yourself, Daddy,” Danny said. “We want you around for a while.”
And a whole new wave of arguing began.
Sighing, I glanced over at Cage, who pulled me closer to him.
“Don’t know what you’re always complainin’ about,” he said, kissing my cheek. “You fuckin’ yell just as much as any of ’em.”
“Yes,” I said. “But me yelling doesn’t give me a headache.”
“Gives me one.”
“Giving you a headache makes me happy,” I said, turning my face and pressing my lips against his.
“You’re a damn crazy little shit,” he muttered against my mouth. “But I’ll keep you.”
I tuned out the noise around us and instead concentrated on the way his mouth felt against mine, the way his lips and tongue moved in sync with mine.
He was mine. All mine.
“Thank God,” I said, pushing away from him. “I was so very worried I might no longer be able to utilize my beer-fetching abilities.”
Grinning, Cage turned away from me and as I went to carve into my steak, I found Deuce watching me.
He winked. And I couldn’t help it. I smiled.
And what did that old bastard do? He smiled back.
Dimples.
They were going to be the motherfucking death of me.
THE END
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