Chapter Thirty

Phoebe

"Dimeter, what are we doing here?" I asked while my brother unlocked my building.

I was in no mood for mysteries. After the day of shopping, I just wanted to sleep, and I would have been, if Dimeter hadn't shown up at the clubhouse, telling everyone to grab their shit and head to my new building.

He was adamant about it, flat-out refusing to listen to anyone complain.

He unlocked the door to my building and said absolutely nothing as he pushed the doors open, stepping aside so everyone could precede him. Stepping in with the others, Dimeter reached for my hand and lightly shook his head. "You are to enter last."

"Me? Why? It's my building."

"Trust me, Sis."

"This better be good." King frowned, following, together with Bailey, inside.

When the last member of our extended group entered, I looked up at Dimeter.

"Well?"

Instead of answering me, Dimeter stepped to the side and allowed me to pass.

Shaking my head, I walked into my building and stopped, my eyes landing on a large poster picture hanging on the wall. Walking over to it, I gasped, my fingers covering my mouth as tears pooled in my eyes. On the wall was a picture of me and Shaw on our first date, my head thrown back laughing as Shaw just smiled, looking straight at me.

Moving further into the space, I found another picture of me studying in the library, my nose in a book. Total concentration marred my face while Shaw leaned against the table, his head in his hand as he looked at me in wonderment.

Another picture showed me sleeping peacefully in bed as Shaw kissed my forehead.

A picture of our wedding day.

A picture of us holding the ultrasound picture after we found out the sex of our son. Shaw, once more, smiling down at me.

Picture after picture of my life with Shaw, each one with him staring adoringly at me.

As I continued to look at all the pictures, I stopped when I saw another picture of Shaw. He couldn't be more than six, maybe seven years old, laughing as he held hands with a beautiful woman who twirled him around.

His mother.

Another picture showed Shaw around twelve, maybe thirteen, as he and the same woman hugged. And when I reached the last picture, I gasped. Shaw had to be around fifteen, maybe sixteen, his strong arms around his mother, holding her tightly while her back arched in a low dip. Both their forms in a graceful dance pose.

Moving further into the space, I saw lit candles illuminating my soon to be dance floor, as my family, the brothers and the women all sat in chairs staring at the person standing in the middle of the floor.

Dressed in a pair of black dance shoes, loose charcoal pants, and a black tank-top, Shaw stood there, staring at me. He looked so different without his jeans and leather vest. His hair, which he always kept neat, was disheveled. Dark curls hung loosely around his shoulders and eyes.

"This way, Sis," Dimeter whispered, taking my hand, leading me to a seat. Sitting, I couldn't take my eyes off him as Cameron came to stand next to me.

No one said a word when the music of Phil Collins, "Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now)," softly permeated the room. The second the music started, Shaw moved about the room, in a fluid dance that captivated not only me, but everyone in the room.

He was magnificent.

I knew Shaw could dance.

I just never thought.

Never imagined how graceful he was. He was stunningly expressive as his powerful legs propelled him forward. His arms were precise as his rhythmic movements held me spellbound.

My heart cried out with each vibrant movement of his body. The thrilling yet sorrowful evocative expression of his dance allowed us all to see the real Shaw.

The man he'd kept hidden all these years had finally broken free.

The tempo of the music increased, and so did his experienced yet relaxed body as he glided delicately across the floor, showing us all what he couldn't put into words. And when the song ended, not one person moved, me included, as tears streamed down my face.

Barely out of breath, he walked over and kneeled before me.

Taking my hands in his, he said for all to hear, "This is me, Phoebe. The real me. Not the FBI agent who couldn't save you. Not the Marine who lost his way. Not the biker who pushed his brothers away. This is me. I am the son of Rosemary Shaw Dalton. I loved my mother dearly, Phoebe, but the day she died, something inside me died, too. I never fully recovered. For years, I ambled about this earth with no direction. I didn't care about anything. Until I met you. For a few magical months, I found myself again. I was healing. Then the unimaginable happened and I thought God was punishing me. Taking the only two women I'd ever truly loved away from me, but when he took our Adam, I refused to let him hurt me again. So, I left. I thought if I became someone else, moved so far away, kept my past hidden under the layers of pain I caused, I couldn't hurt anyone else. I was wrong, Phoebe. It didn't matter how far I ran. The pain never went away, and when you showed up at King and Bailey's reception, I knew I couldn't run anymore, and that scared me, baby. I'd been running for so long I didn't know how to stop. I'm so tired of running, baby, and I don't want to anymore."

Reaching up, I cupped his face, leaned forward, and lightly kissed his lips.

Cameron huffed. "Does that mean she forgives him?"

I smirked as Shaw grinned, pulling me out of my chair to hold me close.

"Yeah, bud," Dimeter said, winking at me. "I think it does."

"Thank God!" Cameron groaned, walking off as some of our family chuckled. I could see the relief on their faces. The happiness in their eyes. I had to admit, I was happy too. I honestly didn't know how much longer I could keep pushing Shaw away. Then again, I never really wanted to hurt him. I just wanted him to see the man I just saw.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, kid?" Banks asked when Cameron stormed toward the doors.

"I've got manly shit to do! You guys are exhausting!"

"Cameron, it's late," Frank shouted after him.

"It's never too late to plan shit," the impertinent kid yelled back, flinging open the doors and walking out into the night.

"Banks, Hawk," King groaned. "Go after him."

The brothers grumbled, heading for the doors.

"Why us?"

"We didn't do anything?"

"He's punishing us."

"But we didn't do anything."

"Maybe he found out about that time..." Banks said, his voice fading as he and Hawk walked out of the building in search of Cameron.

"Do you know what those two idiots are talking about?" King asked no one in particular.

"No clue." Gunner frowned.

"Who knows with them," Enigma added as several of the brothers, including Shaw, looked at the man.

"Seriously?" Sugar smirked, looking up at her husband. "You are the fourth horsemen of their apocalypse. If anyone knows, it's you."

Enigma's eyes widened a fraction before he smiled, quickly kissing the tip of Sugar's nose. "To quote Carnage. I ain't sayin' shit."

"And on that note, we're leaving," King said, getting to his feet, helping Bailey to stand.

"King, I'm hungry. Let's swing by Sugar's Creamery. I want a double scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream."

The smart man grumbled but nodded.

"Uh, Bails, my shop is closed for the night." Sugar quickly followed them. Enigma right behind her.

"Do you have the keys?"

"Yes."

"Then the store is open."

And just like that, it was Sugar's turn to grumble.

As soon as the last person left, I looked up at Shaw to find him staring at me in wonder.

"You ready to go home, babe?"

Nodding, I smiled. "Yeah. I am."

Hand in hand, we headed for the door.

Shaw had just walked me to his truck when he remembered he'd forgotten to lock the back door of my building. Sitting in the dark, I waited for him to return, my head still whirling with everything I'd seen tonight. What my husband did, opening himself up like that, was something I never expected him to do.

Seeing him dance was magical. He was truly gifted, and considering his mom was a professional dancer, I knew where his talent came from.

I never thought his life's path was the FBI or the military.

In fact, it still boggled my mind how well he fit in with the Sons of Hell, but after seeing and getting to know all the brothers in the club over the years, it made sense. It wasn't so much that the club was full of bikers, it was a family. Men and women from different backgrounds, each working to form this great, big, wonderful family.

The Sons of Hell weren't just a motorcycle club. They were brothers and sisters supporting, helping, and yes, at times, calling out, judging each other to do better. Not out of hate, but because they only wanted the best for their family. Like my own family, I knew that, no matter what, if there was ever a need, the men and women of the Sons of Hell Motorcycle Club would come running, just like I knew the sun would rise in the east come morning.

Leaning my head back on the headrest, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what the rest of my life would be like, and I smiled. I may not know what the future held for me and Shaw, but I knew as long as we were with our family, our life would be wonderful and full of laughter.

"My boy did good, huh?"

Screaming like a banshee, I whipped around to find Cameron sitting in the backseat of Shaw's truck, frowning.

"Geez, Phoebe. You didn't have to scream."

"Cameron, what in the hell are you doing back there?"

"Hiding out from Banks and Hawk." The little sneak grinned. "Those two couldn't find air if it was spinning all around them."

"You damn near gave me a heart attack," I groaned, trying to calm my racing heart.

Fumbling with my bag, I dug around inside of it, looking for my phone. I needed to call someone, anyone, to let them know where Cameron was. "You are in big trouble, mister. Do you realize that Banks and Hawk are probably losing their minds looking for you right now?"

"Have to have a mind first," the brat clipped. "Besides, your sister told me to hide here."

That stopped me short.

Looking at him, I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The scary one. She stopped me before we left the clubhouse and told me to hide in Priest's truck when the time came."

"Why would she tell you that?"

Cameron shrugged. "Who knows with that Betty? Seriously, Phoebe, your sister needs a man."

I couldn't agree more, but I was not having that conversation with a seven-year-old. "You are too young to be talking about that, mister. Besides, Athena will find love when she's ready."

"Just saying, she ain't getting any younger," he muttered, looking out the window. "Phoebe?"

"Yeah," I replied distractedly, still searching my bag for my phone. I knew I'd put it in there. I remembered using it at Beth's coffee shop after a few of the girls and I went shopping. Groaning, I shook my head. "Please tell me I didn't leave my phone at Beth's?"

"Uh, Phoebe?"

"What is it, Cameron?"

"Why is douche canoe standing in your building looking right at you?"

"What!" I gasped, my head whipping toward my building, only to catch sight of Jake, who was looking directly at me. The second my eyes connected with his, he disappeared into the darkness and a shiver of fear trailed down my spine.

Reaching for the door handle, I whispered, "Cameron, stay in the truck. In fact, I want you to lock these doors the second I'm out. Do you understand me?"

"Phoebe, I don't think Priest is gonna like you leaving his truck."

"Promise me, Cameron."

"But—"

"Just lock the damn doors, Cameron!" I snapped a little harsher than I should have, but I refused to put the little boy in danger.

"Geez, fine. I'll lock the doors."