Chapter Twenty-Six

The last few days have been like torture—at times, quite literally. I've been doing everything the doc said, as well as everything Aleko insists upon, which means I haven't moved from this damn bed unless I need to use the bathroom. All my meals have been brought in for me on a tray and I've been given strict instructions—from Aleko—that I'm not to leave the room because the stairs could be too much for me. Everyone is treating me like I'm breakable, conveniently ignoring any conversation about what happened—other than brief updates on Grinder's condition in the hospital—and I haven't even seen Kincaid since we got back.

It's been a little suffocating, but admittedly understandable.

On the plus side, I get to stare at a bare-chested Aleko waiting on me hand and foot in all his rippling abs glory, day in and day out. Only an idiot would complain about that, yet here I am.

"I just wanna get some fresh air. Get out of this damn room. See if any work needs doing on my bike, ya know?"

Spence looks at me with raised brows, then slides his gaze over to my mom sitting on the armchair Bear brought in from her room. During her visits, she feels more comfortable having familiar things around her. "Okay, I know, I know." Sighing, I roll my eyes, but more so with disappointment at myself. I'm being insensitive by moaning about spending a few days in this room, where Mom spent years in hers before we got her out.

"Sweetheart, it's fine. Have you tried talking to him about what's going on in your head?"

I look anywhere other than in Mom's direction, knowing that the questioning and judgy look she does so well is etched across her features.

"We'll take that as a no, shall we, Darlene? How do you expect things to get better if you won't help yourself?"

"Don't gang up on me, Spence. You're supposed to have my back." I faux-frown, scrunching my brows and pursing my lips.

"I've had your back plenty. And I'd be a shitty best friend if I didn't tell you where you were going wrong as well as all the having your back stuff. So… talk to the man. Tell him all the things. Case closed." Spence flips me off, a smug grin stretching across his face.

"That'd be a lot easier if he was into having a conversation, but with everything going on, he just seems a little distant now. Hesitant to come near me almost." I sigh again, and it feels like my entire life could be summed up with that sound alone. Sighing out of exasperation, exhaustion, confusion, all the -ions.

"You gave him a scare, darlin'. To be honest, you gave us all a scare. Just give him some time, he'll come around." Mom latches another hook with the wool in her hands, crocheting something or other.

It made me smile when I first saw her with it, sitting in the corner of the room yesterday afternoon as I woke up. She used to love to crochet, but I never saw her do it once in all the time she was away.

I suppose she's trying her best to deal with this whole thing. It can't be easy, considering what she's been through.

"I'll do my best." I give a tight-lipped smile, aware that it doesn't reach my eyes, but it rarely does these days.

I have everything I thought I could want; Mom's with me, Jake's dead, Aleko's mine, I'm pregnant—aside from the fact it could belong to someone else—and yet I can't seem to find my happy.

"Ladies." Sledge pokes his head through the open doorway to the suite, grinning from ear to ear. "Spencer, nice to see ya again, mate. Thanks for keepin' us updated on Grinder out of visitin' hours." He nods respectfully at Spence, a flicker of pain making his smile falter, but it's back again within a second. Almost as though I imagined it.

I didn't.

Grinder still being critical at the hospital has been playing on my mind on repeat. I can't bear to think about how his brothers are all feeling about it.

"You're welcome." Spence's response is full of sincerity, and again, I'm so thankful he's my best friend.

"Anyway, Psycho sent me up to prep ya." Sledge's attention focuses on Mom next. "Sabrina is in the kitchen and wanted to know if you're ready to show her how to make that special apple pie you told her about."

It still amazes me how these people are helping Mom, despite the whole stabbing Hoops fiasco. They've accepted her effortlessly, and every moment Sabrina spends with her is priceless. She doesn't need to do it, and she's closer to my age than Mom's, but they have a great blossoming friendship. Spending time with Sabrina in the kitchen or coming to visit me are the only times Mom comes out of her room, and it's progress I won't scoff at.

"Yes, please." Mom's face lights up at the suggestion. "I'd really like that." Pushing up from the armchair, she leans over to kiss my forehead and whispers, "Just talk to him." Then, with a wink, she stands to her full five-foot-five-inches and adds, "I'll come by and see you when we're done, darlin'. Bring you a plate."

Sabrina chooses that moment to appear behind Sledge, her bouncy blonde hair practically glistening under the light from the bulb in the center of the ceiling. She signs something, then Mom translates.

"She said, ‘I changed my mind and wanted to come and get you myself.'" Mom turns back to Sabrina. "You just didn't want me to stab anyone while left to my own devices." She signs and speaks at the same time, laughing at her clearly not-too-soon joke.

"Mrs. Wilson! You got jokes." With an impressed glint in his eye, Sledge holds out his fist, waiting for Mom to pound it—which she does with glee before slowly making her way out of the room.

Before she disappears from view, she shouts over her shoulder, "I'll see ya in a bit, darlin'."

"And you, Little Miss Trouble…" I don't know why, but that stings a little. "Ninja is still with Bear in the garage office and Psycho will be here in…" Sledge checks his watch. "Ten minutes. Instructions are to put on clothes you won't miss, aaannnnddd…" He pauses again, holding a finger in the air and leaning out of the doorway to reach for something. "Wear these." Holding up a gorgeous pair of black Doc Martens, one with a pink lace, one with blue, Sledge winks, places them on the floor, and turns his back on the room. "Ten minutes!" he announces once again before he's gone.

"I guess I'm going somewhere in ten minutes?" Won't lie, I'm excited. These four walls are driving me slowly insane—which is ironic considering it literally used to be a psychiatric hospital.

"I guess you are. Your Psycho has summoned you."

"Don't do that, Spence. You know it isn't like that. He's just been worried is all." Standing from the bed, I point to the corner closest to me. "Make yourself useful and hand me those crutches, will ya?"

Jumping from his seat, he sweeps them away from where they're leaning on the wall and helps me position myself on them. Fucking hate these things. I carefully hop over to the dresser and open the top drawer, pulling out a pair of black leggings and a black tank-top because it may be October, but it's still hot as fuck. Part of that could be my hormones, but either way, it's too hot for a full shirt. The pain in my thigh is nothing like it has been, but walking on it isn't a good idea yet, because that pain is definitely real and if I want to be released from this prison, I need it to heal properly.

"Hmm. I know. I just—hang on." The vibrations of his phone are insistent, and he answers as soon as he looks at the screen to see who's calling. "Hey, Steve… With Mac… No, not until tomorrow… Okay. I'll be home soon." He sighs heavily, and he'd be a prime candidate for my sighing club. "I've gotta go, babe."

"You'll be home soon? As in, a together home, his home, your home…?"

"That is gonna take more than ten minutes to go over, so get yourself ready for whatever weird ass date your man has planned and we can catch up tomorrow." Spence winks, standing and shoving his cell in the back pocket of his jeans. "I love you." Pulling me in for a hug, he kisses the top of my head.

"Love you right back."

He ruffles my hair as he moves back. "Tomorrow." With a pointed look, he turns and walks out, closing the door behind him.

After our conversation this afternoon, and all my complaints about Aleko basically holding me prisoner, I can understand Spencer's trepidation. But I also know myself, and I'm aware I'm not processing the last few months—years—of my life. It's fine. I'll be fine. Aleko's just trying to keep me and the baby safe.

I showered this morning, so I change out of the lilac sundress Vanessa lent me—because most of my clothes are suddenly too tight—and into the old clothes I was instructed to wear. Rather than wondering why Aleko asked me to dress in clothes I won't miss, I'm just excited that we're going to spend some time together outside of these four walls.

The door opening makes me jump, just as I'm braiding my hair to one side in hopes we're going somewhere on the motorcycle. Helmet hair is a pain in the ass. The leggings and tank-top are convenient for wearing beneath a leather riding suit too, so I'm covered on all angles. I may not be able to ride by myself and am totally wishful thinking here, but with no information to go on, I'm happy living in fantasy land.

"You ready, Cherry? I have a gift for you." Aleko's grin stretches all the way across his face as he grips the door, the white stick of his sucker jutting out between his teeth. The way the cross under his eye crinkles still makes my heart skip a beat.

"Just gotta get these boots on… but do I need to get anything else on first?" I tie the band at the bottom of my braid to hold it in and press myself against Aleko's front. My breasts are fucking amazing right now—thank you, pregnancy—and this tank-top gives him the perfect view of my cleavage from his position.

Closing his eyes, a growl sounds from the back of his throat and he tilts his head to the ceiling, wrapping his arms tentatively around my waist.

"If a bullet doesn't kill me, you will."

"You could just put your cock to good use and fuck me instead of treating me like fine china." I raise both my brows, because I still can't do only one and I'm not giving him the opportunity to give me his sexy smirk. Then I step back, favoring my good leg, one hand on my hip, the other leaning against the dresser for support, and make a point of staring directly at said cock, standing proudly to attention beneath his jeans.

He sighs—and we have another member joining the sighing club—steps toward me, and takes me by surprise when he bends slightly to pick me up, bridal style, crutches completely ignored.

Getting married better not be my gift. Not in these clothes. The boots might be cool though…

Gently setting me on the edge of the bed, Aleko kneels, grabbing the boots and sliding them onto my feet. I say sliding, I mean shoving. He loosely ties the laces into bows before placing a kiss on each of my knees, and as he spreads them apart, my heart leaps into my chest and I'm immediately pliable. The next kiss is softer, more tender, just above my belly button, and he rests his palms either side, where a bump is clearly beginning to form.

It's like a glass of cold water is thrown into my face as he stands, holding a hand out to help me up.

Unimpressed, I glare at him, my chest heaving with anticipation for something that didn't come—literally.

"Baby, you're pregnant, have a hole in your thigh, high blood pressure, instructions from the doc to be on bedrest, and a tendency to disappear on me. So you're fucking lucky we're going anywhere right now." Aleko links his fingers behind his head, frustration heavy in the air.

"Well, that made it sound like so much fun. No, thanks. I'll keep my lucky, pregnant ass right here and listen to the doc." I scoot up the bed to the pillows, folding my arms across my chest. I wish I had a book. Now would be a great time to become a reader.

"You're being a brat. Come on."

"You're being a dick. No."

"Thought you liked dick?"

"I do when it's pummeling in and out of me and giving me multiple orgasms. Hell, even one orgasm would be great at this point!" My eyes are wide, my tone accusing, because as well as treating me like a delicate flower, he's been depriving me of any and all physical touch more sensual than a hug. The constant cherry flavor of his tongue mixed with the hard ball of his piercing is something I'm craving badly, but nope. Closed-mouth kisses are all I've been blessed with.

"You're ruining your own surprise, you know?" Aleko deflates, sitting beside me on the bed, one knee up on the sheets and his other foot on the floor.

"What is it?" Okay, yeah, now I'm being a brat, but tone is everything, and mine is now lighter, with a smile creeping through. I didn't mean to bring up the lack of intimacy thing, over-protective thing, whatever he wants to call it, and I kinda shot myself in the foot by refusing to go—better than getting shot in the thigh, but ya know.

I really do want to get out of here, if only for a short while. Anything is better than nothing.

"Come with me and you'll see." The playful glint is back in his beautiful blues, as well as that spark of danger I find irresistible. Aleko stands, once more holding out a hand for me to take and go with him.

"Okay. But only because I'm bored in here."

"I'll take it." His grin grows wider as I take his hand, linking my plain fingers with his tattooed ones and gently sliding off the bed. He passes me a crutch once I'm standing, favoring my good leg.

"You really not gonna tell me what it is?" I feel like riding motorcycles is a hard no, absolutely not a possibility after that brief conversation, and I'm disappointed. Although, not at all surprised considering the hole in my leg, but now more intrigued than anything.

"Oh, Cherry. Nope." He takes the sucker from his mouth and pushes it against my lips, encouraging me to open up and take it in.

Of course, I do.

Then he miraculously pulls another from an inside pocket on his SOK cut, pushing the clear wrapper off and screwing it up. The wrapper goes back into his pocket and the sucker into his mouth. Okay, so sharing a sucker better not be the extent of our sexy times this evening. I'm so ready, it's unreal. The two months without him weren't even this torturous.

It's pretty quiet around the place today. We don't pass anyone on our way down the stairs or through the halls as I hobble onward with a crutch on one side and Aleko on my other. But there are brothers outside in the main front courtyard and working in the garages by the entrance, they can be seen through the large windows lining the outer corridors.

I quickly realize we're not even going outside when he lifts me, crutch and all, and we begin down yet another flight of stairs, into what is very probably the basement. Yup… the lighting is dull, there is no carpet or tile on the floor; it seems to be made of concrete.

"Have I pissed you off so much you've decided to finish the job yourself?" I laugh because it could very much be the case.

"Don't joke about dying, Cherry. It's not funny yet." He doesn't stop walking, carrying me to a large metal door at the far end of this corridor.

"Will it ever be funny?"

"No." Aleko pauses in front of the door, places me back on my feet as I adjust my crutch, and turns to face me.

"What kind of gift is kept in a basement and makes you look concerned right before we go inside?"

"The kind that I know will set your heart on fire because, Cherry baby, this is something you've wanted for a long time."

"A custom motorcycle with pink and blue trim, custom lighting, and a full Akrapovic exhaust system?" I grin, knowing this isn't what he's talking about because we'd be upstairs and outside if he was.

"Noted. But no. It's Isaac and Brick."

His admission makes my breath catch in my throat.

"I didn't tell you until now because I didn't want to stress you out until you were ready."

I'm choosing to ignore his comment about not wanting to stress me out.

"So behind that door, Isaac and Brick are just hanging out as my gift?" I know that's not the case, but I'm confused as to why I'm here.

"Saved them for you. Here." He reaches behind him, pulls out a gun from his waistband, and hands it to me before opening the door.

Bewildered and a little excited, I hop over the threshold and into the room. The first thing that hits me is the smell. It's so similar to the basement Jake died in—before Aleko made the SOK prospects clean the house from top to bottom.

There, in the center of the room, sit Isaac and Brick. One of these men—or Goblin, who is already in Hell where he belongs—could possibly be the father of my baby. And while the thought kills a little piece of me, I can't and won't get rid of it. This child will know nothing but love.

Both of them are tied to steel-looking chairs, heads hanging low. Brick's covered in blood, a huge wound on his skull, and I'm not entirely sure he's even still alive.

Isaac's face is a patchwork of welts, bruises, and cuts, as is the rest of what I can see of him, and it's clear they've been here for a while.

"Did you have a little fun without me?" The grin creeping across my lips is the most genuine I've felt for days, and that's a little scary.

"Needed somewhere to take my frustration out while you… while you were missing. Want me to wake them up for you?" Aleko's grin matches mine.

"Is Brick still alive? That head wound looks pretty bad."

"What. The. Fuck?" Oh look, Isaac's awake! "Am I dead? Is this Hell?" He struggles against his bindings, and as much as I've dreamed about this moment, about making it last, dragging it out like I did with Jake, I'm ready to try and put what they did behind me.

I mean, not ready enough to let them live, though.

"You fucking died! Did you come back from the dead for more of my cock?" Isaac turns from angry, shocked, and pissed to disgusting cunt real quickly.

Without a word, because this asshole doesn't deserve anything from me, I lift the gun, remove the safety, and fire. The first shot flies past his ear, making him sneer at me, but it's quickly replaced by fear, pain, and anger, when the next two land in his chest. The fourth goes through his cheek, then I fire three bullets into Brick's head and two more at his cock. Just in case he isn't dead yet.

A heavy weight lifts from my shoulders as I watch the blood pour from their wounds, their chests unmoving and their bodies slumped over.

And like a mic drop, I let the now-empty gun clatter against the floor before hopping into the open arms of my sanctuary. Aleko.

There's no pain for me, no flashes of memories. I just feel empty. Numb.

Happy.

I squeal as Aleko scoops me up, lifting me bridal style and pressing a soft kiss against my lips as the clatter of my crutch sounds through the silent room.

"You did good, Cherry. Now let's go wash off the scum."

"My crutch!" Reaching out as if I could possibly grab it from the floor from this height, I give up as soon as he closes the door behind us.

"I'll send someone to bring it up to you." No doubt a poor prospect will get that ungratifying job.

I think I'm still in some kind of shock as he carries me up the stairs to the main building, then up more stairs to the suites. There are splatters of blood across his cheeks and his forehead, and his knuckles are crimson. It's more visible now that we're not in the dingy lighting of the basement, but it doesn't scare me.

"Thank you." The gift he gave me by handing me that gun is something that can never be equaled, and I can tell he knows why I'm thanking him because he practically preens at the gratitude.

We reach his suite and he unlocks the door and walks us inside, carefully placing me at the foot of the bed.

"Strip." The one word is spoken like a command, which I obey eagerly because my man is hot when he's bossy. I'm favoring my good thigh as I undress, and I roll my eyes as Aleko grabs some plastic wrap and comes toward me.

"Can't get this wet." He nods to my now-bare leg and gets to his knees. My pussy is begging to be touched by him, but his fingers barely brush against my skin as he carefully wraps my bandage.

"You're planning on getting me wet though, right?"

He chuckles as he stands, throwing the roll of plastic wrap onto the dresser behind him.

"Always." Pressing his clothed body against mine as he kisses me makes my insides flip, eager for more of this, of him. I squeal again when he lifts me and carries me into the bathroom, where he places me on the countertop beside the basin before turning on the shower.

I want to scream from the rooftop that it's finally happening. Orgasm City, here I come—literally.

He gives me my own private strip show, first sliding off his cut and placing it over the top of the door. Next, he reaches for the back of his neck, fisting his black T-shirt and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the tattooed torso I'm obsessed with.

"Like what you see, Cherry?" Aleko wags his brows as he unzips his jeans and slides them down his legs. The fact he's commando beneath them only makes the urge to get on my knees and worship his cock even stronger.

I nod, biting my bottom lip in what I'm hoping is a seductive way. His gaze darkens and his sexy-as-sin grin stretches across his face. Oh yeah, it was seductive alright.

Fully naked, he stalks the few steps toward me and lifts me again, placing me feet first into the far end of the glass shower cubicle. Grabbing the shower head, he quickly rinses me off before putting it back in the holder and picking up the shower gel. He takes his time washing me, rubbing his hands all over me, being careful to avoid my thigh.

"Much better. I can't stand the thought of how close to them you were in there. It took everything in me not to rip their fucking heads off just for breathing the same air as you." Aleko carefully rinses off the suds from my body, encouraging me to turn around and look to the ceiling so he can do my hair. The whole time, I'm leaning on my good leg to prevent the pain from ruining this moment.

I groan as he pushes his fingers into my scalp, massaging shampoo into my hair before rinsing it out. He repeats the motions with conditioner, then I hear him placing the shower head back in the holster just before his hands snake around to my chest, cupping my breasts and lightly pinching my nipples.

Don't get me wrong, Aleko washing my body and hair was great foreplay, but now we're really talking. I groan, leaning my head back against his chest, and he peppers my neck with his soft lips. Sliding his hand down my stomach, he cups my pussy, one finger expertly finding my clit and applying enough pressure to make me twitch at the contact.

His movements are so soft and gentle as he pushes two fingers inside me, at the same time still massaging one of my breasts with the occasional nipple tweak. An orgasm builds slowly from the pit of my stomach, growing and spreading outward to my arms, my legs, the tips of my toes. It explodes through me as he bites down where my shoulder meets my neck, and I buck against him, feeling his hard cock at my back. After waiting what feels like a lifetime for this latest orgasm, my body is still tingling in waves of pleasure as he holds me close, breathing me in, enjoying this moment with me.

I flinch a little when I accidentally put a little pressure on my injured leg, and with it, all hopes of multiple orgasms tonight go down the drain with the rest of the water as he switches off the shower.

"You need to rest that leg, Cherry. We'll change your dressing in the morning." Stepping out of the shower, he grabs the large deep-gray towel from the rail and holds it open for me. "Come on, let's get you dry."

The firmness of his dick makes me lick my lips as I walk into the towel, allowing him to dry me off.

"Is it my turn to play now?" I reach through the gap and grip his thick length, stroking up and down and loving the way Aleko's eyes almost roll into the back of his head at the contact.

"No, baby. You need to rest."

"All I've done is rest. What I want is for you to fuck me like you mean it. Here, in bed, outside, I really don't care where." I'm pouting, I know, but there's nothing I can do about it because this is what he does to me.

He groans, but stops my hand moving with his own, gripping my wrist and lifting my arm, where he kisses my knuckles. "I love you, and you have no idea how much I want to fuck you, but what we want and what you need are two different things. Come on." He taps my now-dry ass before lifting me once more, one hand beneath my knees, the other at my waist, and carries me into the bedroom.

After brushing my hair, removing the plastic wrap from my thigh, and rubbing a delicious smelling cherry moisturizer into my skin, we get settled in bed and pull up the sheets because it's chilly this evening. Wrapping myself around him, my injured thigh resting on his, I find comfort, however frustrating it is to be so close to him yet feel so far away.

"Next time you send me to Orgasm City, we go together, and we go hard."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he rumbles, "Soon, Cherry, soon."