Chapter 8

“So, you went camping on the weekend. How did that go for you both?” Marta stares us down as Gus and I sit almost on top of each other in the tiny loveseat across from her.

“It went well. We went on a couple of nature walks and met some nice people,” Gus answers with a straight face, and I have to hold in a snort when Craig and Mandy pop into my mind.

“Right. And what about any conflict?” She asks, her eyes on her notepad, before staring at us over the top of her thin-rimmed glasses.

“We had a little tiff in the car, as I was driving, and again when I was setting up the tent. But other than that, we managed to work things out. I think Gus and I are old enough and ugly enough to sort out any disagreements we have, like grown-ups.”

“That’s an interesting turn of phrase you used. Is that common in New Zealand or are you alluding to you not finding Gus or yourself attractive?” Wait, what? I blink at Marta a couple of times and I swear she has a smirk on her face, like she has me on the ropes.

“You’re kidding, right? I mean, you have eyes, and you’re a woman. You know as well I do, Gus is damn hot. He’s like an Adonis come to life. Seriously, I have to stop myself from jumping his bones every two seconds.” Whilst my mouth is running away from me, I can feel my face growing hotter and hotter.

Gus and I haven’t messed around since I got myself off rubbing up against him like a cat in heat. For some reason, we’ve drawn a very shaky line in the sand. I don’t know if it’s because Gus is unsure or if it’s me, but the sexual tension is killing me. The problem is that we have both been flat out at work. Tombs Security got called in to help the FBI the Sunday evening we got back from Swingersville. This is the first time I’ve seen him for more than a few moments since then. It’s now Wednesday.

And it’s not as if I’ve been sitting at home twiddling my thumbs either. I’ve been trying to put out the small fires that keep popping up. When Roman left town, I was to keep an eye on stuff here, but he’d still be in charge. He’s been gone for months and it feels like I’ve taken on more and more. We’ve had a few of our Bratva shipments messed with. They left port in Russia perfectly fine, so somewhere between there and here, shit’s gone down. I’ve got men on the job and Ivan keeping me updated. Even so, it hasn’t lessened my work any. Roman and I have been video calling a few times a day to come up with plans, but ultimately with the time difference and the distance, it’s up to me to call the shots and I really don’t want to. I’m a secretary, for God’s sake!

“Well, yes, I can appreciate that Gus is an attractive man.” I give her a quick nod, afraid that if I don’t shut up, I’ll pledge my undying love to him or something.

“Gus, how do you feel about Ana? Do you find her as attractive as she apparently finds you?” I can feel my temper rising. This woman is cruising for a bruising. Why the hell is she asking shit like that? I mean, I like myself. I like my body and I’m happy with my face. But you can’t ask Gus that.

“What the hell, lady? Ana is fucking gorgeous. I’m a damn lucky man that she married me.” I slowly turn to look at Gus and find his dark eyes boring into mine. Not caring that Marta is talking to us, he leans forward and kisses me gently on the lips. He pulls back and I stare up at him for a moment, the spell breaking when he winks at me. Oh, right. It’s for show. I can do this.

“Right then, I can see that things seem to be going very well. You survived a stressful situation for you Gus -” I cover my snort with a cough. This woman has no fucking idea how stressful camping was, “- and you’re both very attracted to each other. I feel happy that you two are getting on well. However, I won’t sign you off just yet. I want to see you both again in a fortnight, same day and time, ok with you?”

Gus and I look at each other before plastering fake smiles on our faces and nodding our agreement. Marta stands, and as per usual, walks us out. As we’re walking into the underground carpark Gus gently takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together.

“I’ve missed you the past couple of days, Wife.”

Pulling him to a stop with the hand I’m holding, I look at the differences in the size. His large hand, with a light dusting of hair, mine smaller with the short, blunt blue nails I’m rocking at the moment.

“I missed you too. I mean, I know this isn’t real -”

“- It’s real, Ana.”

My head snaps up, my eyes locking with his intense dark gaze. I swallow loudly before murmuring like an idiot, “Oh. Ok.” I’m not sure what to do. I want to whoop and dance around, but I also don’t want to get my hopes up. Never in my life did I imagine someone like Gus would want someone like me. But how long for?

6 months. 6 months is how long good things last before they get taken from me. Only my parents, Roman, Sasha and Ivan, have lasted longer than that, and it took me years to find and trust them to keep my heart safe. I can’t hope that I’m lucky enough for another good thing to hang around, can I? Gus snaps me out of my thoughts when he runs his large finger gently down the side of my cheek, causing my stomach to flip and my pussy to clench. The things this man can do to me with one touch are dangerous.

“So, I want to take you out on a date, little wife. But, Marx has asked us to call by the clubhouse. You all good with that?” Gus’ soft, lush lips press against the back of my hand that he’s holding.

“Shit. If we’ve been summoned, that means something is going down.”

Gus lets out a sigh. “Yup. It will either be something dangerous or something to do with my family,”

“Which, if Pops or Tuesday are involved, could be both,” I smirk up at him.

“Ugh, you know them so well. Let’s call past home first, drop your car off and we can go in mine. Afterward, I’m taking my wife out for dinner.”

“Race you there” I shove him away from me and run in my heels toward my car, clicking the remote start button on my key fob. A weird click sounds out and then I hit a brick wall, the wind rushing out of me as I land on the ground and a loud POP! echoes through the parking garage.

My breath comes rushing back to me and my fuzzy brain registers that the brick wall looks, feels, and smells a lot like Gus. Blinking my eyes, I watch as Gus checks me over, patting me down, his jaw clenched tight, eyes wild. Reaching up, I cup his face in my hands.

“Hey, hey, Gus, look at me.” I force his face up to mine, so he’s looking at me. “I’m fine. I’m ok. Take a breath, big guy.” I stare into his eyes and feel his big body deflate. He sits back and I take the extra space to sit up, him straddling my legs. He grabs me and crushes me to his body.

“Thank fuck you’re ok,” He growls out before he has his angry face back on, glaring in the direction of my car.

“Back up dude, I need to see what the fuck that was.” I push him gently back so I can get my shaky feet under me.

What the hell was that? I mean, I’m no expert, but in the movies that is the sound a car makes before the whole bloody thing blows up. Whatever that pop sound was is not something usually portrayed in the films. Gus gives me his hand and pulls me to stand. We gingerly walk toward my car, Gus’s arm around me, holding me tight to him. I see the interior and windows are covered in some weird goop. It’s a mixture of red and beige-looking stuff, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was some type of animal brains.

“What in the actual fuck?” I turn to look at Gus, but he’s already on his phone, barking out orders. I take a few deep breaths and categorize all the aches and pains I now have thanks to my big, strong husband landing on me. Not that I’m complaining. I’d rather be bruised and alive any day of the week.

“Babe, Marx is going to send one of the guys with the tow truck. We’ll take your car back to the garage at the clubhouse and have the guys go over it. My brothers are already there. They can comb your car for a trigger or check to see if anyone has tampered with it. Ok?”

“Fuck yes, that’s ok.”

He gives me a quick nod, then wraps his arm over my shoulders and leads me to his SUV. Helping me inside, his hands linger on my waist, before making sure I’m settled in enough for him to put on my seatbelt.

“I can do that, you know,” I tease. His eyes shoot up to mine and I can see the strain in them. He’s barely holding it together. I lean forward and kiss him. This is the first time I’ve initiated a kiss, and I know I’ve taken him by surprise. When I pull back, his frown is gone and a small smile plays on his lips.

“Thank you, baby. I needed that.”

He slams my car door, then walks around the front to get in, his large body still stiff with anger. Gus is on a mission and even though I haven’t admitted to myself exactly how frightening that was, it makes me feel better knowing I have this man by my side. I just hope I can hold on to him.

Fuck, I need to get a grip on myself.

Whatever the fuck that was scared the hell out of me. It may not have been a bomb, but my adrenaline doesn’t know that. Once we got to the MC clubhouse, I led Ana inside, left her with Remy and some of the brothers, and came out to the gym. I had client meetings earlier, so I was in my finery. Not that it matters now, as I’ve just tossed my suit jacket onto the nearest lifting bench. My tie is who the fuck knows where and I was too rough unbuttoning the top buttons of my shirt, so they’re also strewn somewhere. I’m bashing the hell out of the boxing bag, and the tear of my knuckles against the aged leather feels good. My brain knows Ana is safe, but it’s almost as if my body needs the pain to remind me we are here, alive and well. The slam of the gym door echoes through the space and heavy footsteps come my way.

“You all good, man?” Resting my forehead on the bag, I take a deep breath before turning to see Rhodie and Marx side by side. It’s funny because I never really noticed how similar the two truly look. I mean, it makes sense. My brothers and I all look the same, just different fonts. Where Marx is dark, Rhodie is lighter. His hair is less black, more dark blonde.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just scared me, you know?”

“You feel like your gut has dropped out of your ass, right?” Rhodie asks with a smirk. I swallow, thinking about how eloquent he is.

“Yeah, actually, it does.”

He nods once, and I’m sure I see sympathy in his eyes. “That’s how I felt when Chewy ran off and I wasn’t there to keep her safe. One day I will put a ring on your sister and we’ll be brothers. But until then, don’t think you aren’t already part of the family.”

He slaps me on the shoulder and turns to head off, leaving me with Marx.

“You may not wear a patch, but we’ve got your back. Mainly because I don’t want to be stuck with your family if you die.” I flip him the bird while he chuckles. “Wanna see what we found?”

I tip my chin and follow Marx through the clubhouse, gesturing to Ana to come with. She will have my balls if I leave her out of this. We reach the garage and I’m not surprised to see a few of the MC brothers and my brothers gathered around. Alarmingly up front and center are Pops and Chewy, both of whom have on biohazard suits and goggles. Chewy’s are fogged up, and I have no idea how Rhodie finds that attractive, but he’s all over her like a rash.

“Oh good, you’re here. The stuff all through your car is, wait for it, dum dum dum dum dum duuuuuuuuuum,” Pops starts drum rolling and I’m going to kill at least one of them if they don’t hurry up.

“CABBAGE!” they both yell in unison

“What the fuck?” Marx grumbles.

“Who the fuck would explode cabbage in your car, and why?” I ask out loud, fucking baffled by the situation. Dayz brings over a small dish with weird ass looking stuff in it and Ana peers at it.

“Kimchi? Oh. Ooooohhhhhhh” She looks up at me and I can see a blush climbing up her throat, coloring her cheeks.

I watch as she looks sheepishly around the room, everyone on tenterhooks to find out first, why the hell she has Kimchi, and second, why it’s all over her interior.

“What’s that ooooohhhh for? You know why it’s in your car, don’t you?” Chewy says, staring through her foggy goggles at my wife.

“Um, yeah. I forgot I had it. One of the Boytsev gave it to me.” We all stand there staring at her. I feel a rumble in my chest and I can’t stop myself.

“Who, or what the fuck, is the Boytsev?”

Ana’s brow pulls down low until she’s scowling at me. “Don’t bark at me, August Tombs! Boytsev is a foot soldier in the Bratva. The Bratva that I am reluctantly running and have meetings with. Is that ok with you?” She turns away from me and I’m certain I hear her call me a “fucking caveman.” Call me suitably put in my place. I didn’t mean to growl, but fuck. She’s mine.

“Ok, so a footsoldier gave it to you. What the fuck for?” Marx asks, and it’s a good fucking question. Like, who the hell gives someone cabbage?

“Oh, it was a gift. He makes Kimchi in his spare time. I forgot it was in the back seat and I guess the heat of the car made it get all ferment-y and it exploded.” She shrugs her shoulders like it’s nothing.

“Why is a Bratva foot soldier making fermented Korean cabbage?” Rider asks no one in particular.

“It’s his hobby. He pickles things and makes some pretty amazing jellies as well. He usually hands them out for gifts.”

The MC brothers and my family all look around at each other. Who the hell ever heard of a mobster Martha Stewart? Ana must sense everyone’s confusion because I can see annoyance cross her face. She has a really expressive face which is helpful to me because it’s easy to tell if I’ve pissed her off or not.

“What? Bratva can’t have hobbies?”

“Fuck no! They’re meant to be out shaking people down for protection money and killing people and shit. What is the world coming to when the gangsters are pussies?” Pops throws his goggles down on the ground in disgust.

“This may be a fucked up question, but if it was just Kimchi in the car, what was up with the clicking sound you heard?” Rider breaks in.

We wait on Tav to tell us, as he’s the auto tech guy, but he says nothing. Until now, he’s been busy texting on his phone. Jules had said he’s been distracted lately. I really need to catch up with him. Since Ana and I got married, I don’t feel like I’ve been spending enough time with my siblings, and that has to change.

“I can answer that.” Jules says, stepping forward. He holds Ana’s key fob up and presses the button, the car making that clicking sound again.

“Remote lock is fritzing. That’s the sound you heard. It was just a coincidence that your Bratva Kimchi exploded straight after that.”

Me and Ana turn to look at each other. Like what the actual fuck? That’s it? Some forgotten cabbage and a fucked up remote lock? I run my hand through my hair and blow out a breath. It surely can’t be that easy, can it? Fuck, maybe my work and the past few months have made me paranoid or something. I’m pulled out of my thoughts by Marx’s phone going off and the big man yelling at whoever is on the other line.

“What the fuck?” Marx yells at his phone before his head snaps up, looking around at us.

“Death Riders coming in hot, ETA 5. They may need cover.” Everyone in the garage nods and from the corner of my eye I see Chewy take off, most likely to Wire’s “Command Center.” Shit. Looking at Ana, I just know she’ll want to get involved.

“Got a gun on you, babe?”

She stares up at for me a beat. “You do know that New Zealand isn’t really a gun carrying place, don’t you? I’m from New Zealand, ergo no, I don’t have a gun on me.” I feel my eyebrows pulling down into a frown.

“Wait, you’ve been running the Bratva and you haven’t been carrying protection? What the hell, babe?”

“I’m just the secretary. Usually I’m in the office and we have security,” she shrugs. She fucking shrugs at me. I can feel my blood pressure rising, but I really don’t want to be an overbearing ass and piss her off while we have drama going on.

“Can you use a gun at least?”

“Well, yeah, I used to go hunting with my dad. Trust me, big guy, I got this.”

“Ok. Good, take mine. I’ll grab one of Pop’s spares.” I pull mine out of my holster, check it over, place it in her hand, and press a quick kiss to her lips.

“I need you in the clubhouse, yeah? Keep an eye on Dayz?” From the look on her face, I can tell she would rather be in on the action. Running my gaze down her body, I pointedly stare at her high heels before locking my gaze with hers. She looks down at her feet for a moment.

“I have my boots in the backseat of my car.”

“Covered in kimchi?”

She huffs a breath at me. “Ugh, fine” She gives me a none too impressed look before she nods her head and struts off toward the clubhouse, gun in hand. I turn to see my brothers and Pops waiting for me, checking their own weapons. Pops handing me his spare. To this day, I still don’t know how many weapons that man carries.

“We’ll flank the sides of the clubhouse, Jules and Pops, you on the north side. We’ll take the South.” They both nod and we split up, Tav and I sprinting to the other side of the compound.

The roar of motorcycles cuts the early evening air and I’m glad we still have light. There’s nothing worse than running security in the dark. I watch as the two prospects manually swing the gates open wide enough for the first of the Death Riders to come screaming through. The first rider screeches to a halt, booting down the kickstand. Four more follow closely behind, one of them comes in hot and lays their bike down. The distant roaring of incoming bikes almost drowns out the yells of the five Death Riders that are now inside the compound, the Prospects racing to shut the gates.

Tav and I are in position at the farthest front corner of the main building, and from where I crouch, I can clearly see through the chain-link fence a row of bikes bearing down on us. None of the riders seem to wear a distinguishable cut that I can recognize. As soon as they are close enough, they fire errant bullets, trying to cause as much damage as possible. The DRMC and Death Riders have taken a couple of the riders down, but killing them won’t help us any. We need to know who the fuck these guys are.

With this in mind, I take a knee and line up my shot with a rider who isn’t quite in formation. He may be young or new at this, but I don’t give a shit, not when he’s putting my friends and family in danger. I take a breath, block out the surrounding noise, exhale, and gently squeeze the trigger. My target’s right shoulder jerks backwards before he falls from his bike, hitting the road and rolling a couple of times as his friends ride past us, into the distance.

“Fuck, we need help! Flack’s been hit!”

My head spins toward the yells for help. The Death Riders are gathered around whoever came off their bike. I’ve not had much to do with them, other than meeting their Pres Savage and their SAA Dex. From what I know, they used to be 1 percenters, but Savage has been trying to go legit.

Movement catches the corner of my eye, distracting me from the injured Death Rider. I watch the guy I shot crawling towards his downed bike while the MC is distracted.

“Wanna come pick up some trash with me?” Tav follows my line of sight for a beat before turning to grin at me.

“Yeah, I’m a big environmentalist, let’s go,”