CHAPTER TWENTY THREE SKULLS

Rebel—

Exhaustion washes over me, and I roll my shoulders, then busy myself making a pot of coffee in the carafe I keep in the shop.

“Anyone decide what they’re going to do with this?” Blood asks. He stands next to Butcher’s car and taps one of the tires with the toe of his boot.

I turn to the coffeemaker, jam the filter basket in the slot, fill the tank with water, and flip the switch. Leaning against the counter, I fold my arms. “No one’s come for it, and no one’s called. I suppose I’ll have to call his wife or let my father figure it out.”

Blood bends at the waist and inspects the interior. “It’s a sweet car. If she’s interested in selling, give me a call.”

“Sure. Whatever.” I know I must sound like a petulant, sulking child, but I can’t help it.

Blood’s head swivels toward me, and he straightens. “I know you’re hurt, and I know this situation sucks, honey, but your father is just trying to protect you. I can’t fault him for that.”

“I can,” I snap.

Blood grins. “You are one hard-headed woman, Rebel. Reminds me of your father. He never backs down, either.” Blood cups my neck and presses a kiss to my forehead. “You really like this guy?”

I nod, too sad to speak.

He shoves his hands in his hip pockets and rocks on his boots. “I ever tell you Undertaker once wanted to see me end up with your mother?”

My arms come unfolded. “Uh, what? No way.”

“Sure did. He didn’t know a thing about your father… what kind of man Shades was and such. Undertaker figured he wasn’t good enough.”

“Really?” I drag the word out. This is all news to me, and a bit shocking. My mother and Blood? I can’t even imagine. “Did you and my mother, you know—” I can’t even say it.

“Date?” He fills in with a much nicer word than I had in mind. “No, but I wanted a shot. Would have jumped at the chance if it wasn’t for one thing.”

“What was that?”

“Your mother loved your father.” Blood shrugs. “I couldn’t fight that.”

“So, how’d my father make Undertaker see he was good enough to be with his daughter?”

“Shades had to prove himself, and boy, did that man prove himself.”

“How?”

“Your mother had gotten into some trouble with the DKs, and they came looking for her.”

My eyes get big. “What kind of trouble?”

“It’s a long story, but they thought she’d done a crime against them. Anyway, they took her.”

“What do you mean, took her?” A chill runs up my spine.

“Abducted her from her job. See, she was just starting out in real estate and was at an open house with another realtor. They came in, knocked out her colleague, and took her captive.”

“Oh, my God.” I’m stunned by the things I wasn’t aware my mother had been through.

“Hauled her to their clubhouse in Atlanta—this big creepy warehouse.”

“What happened?”

“Your father walked in, bold as brass, and offered himself in exchange for her. He also had the proof she didn’t do the crime they thought she had. Things got tense. He took a beating, but the DKs let them both walk out of there. Thank God they did, because we all got word what was happening and hauled ass up there. We were prepared to start a fucking war.”

“Wait a minute. Some guy named Rusty told me to give my mother his regards today.”

“No shit?” Blood chuckles. “I think I’ll let your mother tell you that part of the story, but do me one favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Be sure to tell her within earshot of your father.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Because he’ll lose his shit over it.” Blood flashes his teeth and shrugs. “I just like to needle him every chance I get.”

The sound of a motorcycle approaching has us both twisting to look out the open overhead doors.

Brayden turns his bike into the lot, and everything inside me stills. What did my father say to him? Has he come to tell me goodbye?

Tucker and Daisy run outside, barking and tails wagging when they recognize Brayden.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave. Walk me to my bike, Lil’ Bit.”

I love the nickname Blood gave me when I was a baby. And even though my long legs make it a lie, a tender feeling fills me every time he uses it. I hook my arm in his and lean on his shoulder and confess my fear. “I don’t want him to leave, Blood.”

He covers my hand with his. “I know, sweetheart, but you’ve got to be strong. If something’s meant to be, it has a way of working out.”

I don’t see how this can ever work out, but I nod and let him lead me out to his bike.

Brayden climbs from his, pulling his helmet off. I drop Blood’s arm and run to him, throwing myself into his waiting arms. It’s like coming home. It’s where I feel safe and centered and where I’m meant to be. I feel like he’s my one true soulmate in the whole world and now that we’ve finally found each other, I can’t bear the thought of him riding away.

Blood clears his throat and fires his bike up.

We break apart.

“It was good to meet you, kid. Safe travels home.” With that, he roars out.

I don’t want to think about Brayden traveling home. Right now, all I want is to feel him inside me, owning me, claiming me, making me know I’m his and always will be. I grab his hand and tug him toward the garage and up the stairs.

He seems as eager as I am.

When we reach my apartment, we don’t say a word. We just strip each other’s clothes until we fall to the bed, naked and clinging to each other. His mouth moves over every inch of my skin, and I clutch his head to me. I can’t get enough of him. I’ll never get enough of him.

Darkness falls outside, and the neon sign flickers on, and suddenly our skin is bathed in the light from the sign, making everything more erotic.

Brayden’s hard body moves over mine, his muscles rippling, and his knees spread my thighs as he settles his hips between them. I run my palms up his chest, over the colorful ink and the undulating muscles beneath. Two of his fingers sink inside me, finding me wet and making me gasp.

“You’re always so ready for me, aren’t you, baby?”

“Always,” I whisper.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste. Then he takes his hard erection in his hand, swirls the head in my wetness, and plunges inside me.

I gasp, my spine arching at the exquisite feeling of my man taking me. I know the thrill of this feeling will never get old. I’m addicted, and no man will ever take his place. If he leaves, I’ll die an old maid. No one will ever live up to the things he makes me feel just with a mere touch, a look, a whisper in my ear.

His mouth covers mine, and I taste myself on his lips as he fills me, and my lids slide closed. My whole being is just pure sensation right now.

I wrap my legs around his waist, never wanting him to pull back, but he has to, if only to start that delicious rhythm as old as time. The one he’s so damn good at.

We stare intently at each other while he rocks against me, and I see tenderness and love written in his expression.

My eyes well, and a tear spills over to run across my temple and into my hairline.

Reaching up, I cup his face, and he turns his face to kiss my palm. “Don’t be sad, baby. I love you. I always will, no matter what happens or how far apart we are. You’re mine. You’ll always be mine, and I’ll always be yours.”

I nod but can’t hold the tears back, so he dips his head and kisses me, and I forget everything but his kiss.

Much later, when we’re lying next to each other, and staring at the ceiling, Brayden takes my hand, lacing our fingers, his thumb stroking over mine.

He twists his head, meeting my gaze. “I don’t want you to be sad.”

“That’s asking a lot.”

He grins, then grabs his phone off the nightstand. “I want to take a picture of the two of us. But I want you to look happy.”

“I am happy.”

“I want you to close your eyes and think the happiest thought you can imagine.”

“Okay.” I so as he asks and imagine he’s not leaving, and I smile.

“Hey,” he whispers, and I open them. “Look at the camera.”

I do, and he kisses my cheek and takes the selfie of us both.

He pulls his hand down, and we look at the shot he got of us.

“Perfect,” he whispers.

I have to admit, it’s a great photo. “Send me a copy.”

After he does, he sets his phone aside and gets up and strolls to the chair where he hung his cut. He digs something out of the inside pocket and returns to the bed. He’s holding a long white box about the length of a watchband.

“I got you something.”

I sit up, covering my chest with the sheet. “You did?”

He places it in my hands, and I read the gold embossing on the lid. Chandler’s Jewelers. I lift the top and find a pretty silver chain nestled in white satin.

“It’s beautiful.”

“That’s not all.”

My eyes lift to his. “It’s not?”

“I wanted you to have something to put this on.”

My gaze drops to his hands as he tugs off one of his rings—the most important one. The one I know means more to him than any other. The three skulls that represent the club.

“Your club ring? I can’t take that.”

“I want you to have it. I want you to wear it around your neck, next to your heart. That way, you’ll always have me close. Will you do that?”

I nod, my throat closing. I know the importance of this.

He fastens it around my neck, and it settles over my breastbone. I reach up and touch it where it nestles between my breasts, knowing I’ll treasure it.

He tips my chin up with the side of his finger. “That’s my promise. I’ll come back for you.”

Tears cloud my vision again, and I dash the them away. Brayden takes me in his arms and whispers in my ear as I clutch him tight. “Love I feel for you, Rebel? It’s the kind that lasts forever. I need you to believe that.”

I close my eyes, too choked up for words, but I manage to get a few out. “I love you, Brayden.”

I barely sleep all night, just wanting to hold Brayden in my arms. Finally, I drift off in exhaustion.

A sound rouses me, and I frown, so tired I don’t want to wake. But then I realize what that sound is and bolt upright. It’s a motorcycle. I dash to the window in time to see Brayden pull onto the highway.

My mouth drops open, and pain rips at my heart. How could he leave without saying goodbye?

I look toward the nightstand for my phone and see the folded piece of paper with my name written in scrawling handwriting.

My love,

You were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t want to put us through a tearful goodbye. I want to remember you like you were in that photo. Happy. Smiling. In love.

This is hard for me to do—how do I walk away from you? It’s the last thing in the world I want to do. But there’s no way around it. At least for now. But I swear to you, I’ll be back. Somehow, we will be together again. We have to be, because, girl, you’re it for me. I know there will never be another love for me like the one we share.

I know you might hate me for it, and maybe it’s cowardly, but I can’t bear to leave you crying and begging me not to go. We both know I have to leave. So, I’m slipping out quietly, hoping you’ll forgive me for doing it this way. If I have to see the heartbreak in your eyes, I know I’ll never have the guts to get on that bike and ride away from you, sweetheart.

Please don’t forget how much I love you, Rebel.

We will be together again; I swear it to you.

Until then, I’ll think of you every minute of every day.

Forever yours,

Brayden