4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Aleko

T he unrelenting curtain of rain pummeling against the fall leaves on the ground is muffling the sounds coming from inside the cabin. Seconds before the front door flies open, I hear a yell and my entire body tenses, ready for a fight. Ready to slay. Ready to protect the only woman who’s ever meant anything to me. No, not anything…everything. Every fucking thing in this world revolves around my Cherry Pie and one of these days I’ll force her to fucking see that.

Apparently, that day is not today.

In the middle of the doorway is no other than my mother-in-law. A shotgun—damn near older than she is—aimed at my face makes my body jump back far enough that I’m standing in the pissing rain.

Fucking great.

“Well, this is awkward.” I’m going for some levity, and when I dart my gaze up to Darlene’s eyes, I expect anger or fear, but all I see is blank emotion, like she’s not even here. Now, I’ve been on the wrong side of a barrel before but this is different. It’s like she’s lost in a past life or a painful memory.

“Mom, you need to put that gun down. Please.”

At the sound of her beautiful voice, my eyes dart up to her face and my heart aches with how much I miss her. Then I remember her mother is pointing a fucking shotgun at me.

“Darlene, I may be on your daughter’s shitlist right now but I promise you, I’m not a threat.” I’ve got my hands up and I don’t need a mirror to know I look like a fucking mess standing in the rain in my leathers while a fifty-year-old woman is threatening my life with a gun I’m pretty fucking sure doesn’t work.

“Mom, come on, it’s fine. Put the gun down, okay?” Fuck, I love my girl’s voice. It’s raspy but not like she’s been smoking cigarettes for forty years. It’s the sound of satisfaction after a good, hard pounding from the man that worships her body daily. In other words…me.

To my relief, Mac’s hand on the barrel, pushing it down and away from me, brings her mother back from whatever fucked up memory she was living through just minutes ago.

Blinking through the vigorous drops of rain free-falling over my face and eyes, I let Mac handle her mother because I’m not stupid. If I speak, I’m pretty sure it’ll just take Darlene right back to that place from seconds ago and I’m not a fan of being held at gunpoint.

“Oh my God…” Darlene blinks, looks at the gun, then up at me before turning her lost and confused gaze onto her daughter. “What have I done?” There’s no mistaking the wobble in her voice, and the way her lower lip begins to shake tells me she had no self-awareness a minute ago.

“Nothing, Mom. You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re all fine, see?” Mac turns her mother to face her and I jump at the opportunity to snag the shotgun out of Darlene’s hands, propping it up against the wall after checking the chamber of the double-barrel. Empty. Fucking hell.

Just as I take a step inside the entrance to get out of this fucking rain, I feel the heat of Mac’s slender hand slapping against my chest. Any other time, I would have wrapped my fingers around her wrist and slammed her against the nearest wall, ready to fuck her ten ways to Sunday. Yet, my lust-filled brain seems to understand all too quickly that this touch is not loving or sexual. She’s stopping me.

The urge to groan and tell her to fucking get over it is overwhelming, but if I want to fix this problem, I need to learn to listen and accept whatever it is she needs from me.

“I have a feeling this isn’t going to go the way I was hoping.” Taking her wrist in my hand, I bring it to my lips and place a tender sweep of my lips across her soft skin. “I mean, it’s pouring down rain out there, babe. A towel would be nice.” Flashing the grin that always brings her to her knees—quite literally—I’m disappointed when she takes a step back like my nearness bothers her.

“It stopped raining.” Her nod behind me pulls a slow, agonizing groan from deep inside my chest, explaining how much I hate this better than any words ever could.

“Fuuuuck me. The universe fucking hates me, doesn’t it?” Because I’m stubborn and she knows it, I grip her waist and lift her to sit on the waist-height table against the wall. She may be angry with me, but I still need her to look after herself. Standing for so long, even with a crutch, isn’t good for her thigh. Behind me, her mother has the gall to chuckle, her slippers slapping against the wooden floorboards as she walks away and leaves her daughter in my hungry clutches.

“You need to leave, Psycho.” The slightly playful side of me—the side convinced I can just charm her back home—dies a little, and the pissed off side comes roaring back.

“So that’s it?” This time, I’m the one who steps back voluntarily. “You’re the only one who gets to decide where this goes? You get to throw in my face that you’re pregnant with…” Fuck, don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it. Shut your fucking mouth, Aleko . “Someone else’s baby and I’m just supposed to accept that you’re walking away? And don’t fucking call me Psycho. Don’t do that, baby, don’t try to hurt me with calculated words. Ain’t gonna work.”

Thank fuck I was able to control my rogue mouth by not reminding her that a rapist put a baby in her belly. Unlike the way Mac threw the news in my face during our fight with little care to what it might do to my heart, I refuse to hurt her in the same way. Then again, I have a lot of experience in reining in my need to destroy, otherwise I would have been put in a grave long ago.

“Did you even read my note?” For a second, the lost air about her gives me hope. Like maybe she’s rethinking this silly notion that she can walk away from me. Ever. It’s not happening, but I can’t do this like a bull in a china shop or I’ll be stalking her from a distance for the rest of our lives. Which is fine. I’ll do it if I have to. I just don’t want to, for obvious reasons.

“Yeah, Cherry baby, I read your fucking note. The part about me being too controlling, the part about you needing to breathe. I even read the part about you thinking some space for a while would do us both some good.” Boxing her in with one hand on either side of her face, I lean in and breathe my words onto her lips. “Ain’t happenin’, baby. When I told you I loved you, it wasn’t for the short term. I’m in it for the whole fucking term, ‘till death rips us apart.” I grin but it holds no fucking humor. “For real, that is.”

“Aleko—”

“Better. Now stop fucking around and let me fuck that delicious little pussy of yours until you rethink this shitty, shitty idea of yours.” One corner of my lip rises like a fucking dog ready to pounce as I snarl at the hand she puts between us.

“You need to go because I can’t think when you’re this close.”

“Well, yeah. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You tend to make some really stupid mistakes, babe, so I’m here to help you—”

Here we go again.

This time, instead of placing her hand on my chest, she pushes me with all her tiny might, sliding off the table and using her knee to force me back. “You need to go. Now.”

I’m about to push right back and maybe even pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and fuck her right over there on that uncomfortable looking couch.

Until reason hits and I freeze.

Maybe I’m going about this all wrong. Maybe I need to use the honey method instead of the “lock-you-in-my-room” vinegar method.

“All right.” My words are calm and collected, despite the raging storm building inside my chest begging me to go all Neanderthal on her. “If that’s what you want.”

Mac stops fighting and is immediately in alert mode. “It…is.” Hmm. She sounds unsure but I’m not going to push her. She wants me to go outside, then I’ll go right outside. And I’ll wait.

“Then I’ll go.” Running my hands through my wet hair, I let the drops sprinkle all over her face and neck. Fuck, now I want to lick every square inch of her.

No. It’s time to give her space. Give her what she thinks she needs.

“You will?” She knows me so well, the skepticism is pouring from every word she utters. “You’re just going to…leave?”

“Yep, walking right out that door.” And I do. With a wink that says, clear as fucking day in mid summer, that I have something up my sleeve, I walk out the door and even close it for her…like the fucking gentleman I am.

As soon as I’m outside, I pop a cherry sucker in my mouth and make a phone call, putting my plan right into place.

“Didn’t think we’d be back here so soon, man.” Bear’s raised brow is accusing, like he knows this whole idea smells of desperate plans and bad decisions.

“Well, sometimes you gotta put on a show to get your point across, ya know?” I shrug because it all makes perfect sense to me. My little Cherry Pie is being difficult, but more than that, she’s forgetting who I am.

“So, a tent, a grill, and a generator is going to get your point across, then?” Walking to the back of Vanessa’s truck, Bear snaps the handle and carefully opens the bed up for us to jump on.

“Well, yeah. I mean, she thinks she can just give up on us, but that’s not happening. So, I wait her out.” Okay, I have to admit, it all sounded a lot more mature before it came out of my mouth. No way I’m backing down now, though.

“Wait her out, huh? You ever been in a relationship, Psycho?” Bear unlatches the bungee cords holding the generator down as I push the ramp to the edge of the truck and jump right back down. “Like you’re fishing, right? Just waiting for her to bite your hook and jump into your boat.”

“I’m not sure where that metaphor is going but I’m pretty sure I should be offended. Or she should be offended.” Pointing my index finger at him, I shake it like he’s a naughty boy. “And yes, I’ve been in a relationship before, thank you very much.”

Bear stops moving, the tarp securely in his grasp as he turns to me and narrows his eyes. “Who with?”

I grin, pride making my chest puff out. “Philia, of course. And it’s a long ass relationship, too.”

“Fucking hell, Psycho. She don’t count, man. Jesus fuck. Inanimate objects don’t care when you act like an over-the-top obsessive asshole.” Shaking his head, Bear returns to his task as though my answer means shit.

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to agree to disagree. Help me with the ramp, will ya?” Bear unhooks the last rope and places the tarp in the storage bin we screwed to the metal of the bed for occasions such as these.

“I’m sure you comparing Mac to a fucking bike would go over real well. You should try it.” I don’t miss the sarcasm that poisons his every word, but I do choose to ignore it. Instead, I concentrate on the job at hand, picking up the wooden ramp Prez asked Crow to build a few years ago when we realized generators could be useful if they were portable.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if I camp out here, it’ll show her my dedication to her and the baby.” Picking up the ramp and placing it against the end of the tailgate, I run up the bed and start pushing the generator on its wheels. “She thinks I’m going to reject her because the baby’s not mine and she can’t be farther from the truth.”

Bear holds it, waiting for me to jump back down so we can both pull it off, carefully.

“And in this whole scheming scenario, did you think of…oh, I don’t know…telling her all this?”

“Now who’s being an asshole? Of course I told her, but that girl is fucking stubborn.”

“Yeah, you’d know something about that, wouldn’t you?” I don’t have time to jab back when I hear the tell-tale sounds of bikes riding up the driveway to the small cabin in the woods where literal bodies have been buried.

“Oh good, everyone’s here.” Slapping my hands together, I grin and wink at Bear. “Trust me, she’ll think it’s adorable.”

Bear just shakes his head like he’s dealing with a toddler and walks away muttering. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, Brother.”

Ignoring him because fuck that, I’m not second guessing myself now, the deed is done and my mind is made up. I prefer watching my brothers secure their bikes as they get ready to settle down for the night right along with me. I twirl a fresh sucker around my tongue and grin.

Maybe I should have brought Ninja with me instead of leaving him with Vanessa, where he’s been since we left for New York, there’s no way Cherry would’ve been able to resist his little beady eyes.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Whipping around, I see the love of my life standing in the doorway like a sentry with her arms crossed over her gorgeous and newly plump tits. Fuck me, I’d love to bury my face in those babies.

“Just provin’ a point, baby. Whenever you’re ready to accept that I ain’t goin’ nowhere, you’re welcome to join us for a good ol’ North Carolina cookout.”

When Mackenzie slams the door with way too much vigor to sound like indifference, I grin and wink at Bear.

“Trust me, it’s gonna work.” Then I see her peek through the curtains and I can practically hear her tongue licking her lips in anticipation of some juicy meat.

The edible kind, but yeah, mine will come right after that.

“Heard you were serving up some bangin’ barbecue over here.” Sledge slaps me on the back of the shoulder then leans in and whispers. “You’re a fucking wanker, you know that, right? This whole plan is destined to fail, my brother.”

“Y’all need to shut the fuck up and set up your tents before it’s too late.” Where Sledge kept his opinion to just the two of us, I’m making sure my voice carries over to everyone else.

“Boner, Bash, get the grill down, will ya?” Meanwhile, I grab the folding chairs and coolers where all the meat is, ready for a cookout, and place everything on the driest part of the property. It just so happens to be the porch.

Sorry, not sorry.

If the good old smell of grilled steaks and sausages lures my Cherry Pie out, then so be it.

An hour later, everyone is set up, the tents are scattered around, and the reasonably sized bonfire is roaring as we all sit around waiting for the prospects to finish grilling.

“The only reason I’m here, Psycho, is because I do love a good show and this one promises to be one for the books.” Prez follows his statement with a long pull from his beer can and the chuckle from the rest of my found family tells me I didn’t imagine his sarcasm.

“Y’all are going to bite your tongues when you see how well my plan works. I’m telling ya, she’s pregnant, I’ve got food. She’s scared, I’ve got determination for the long haul. She’s pissed off, I’m here repenting. It’s gold.”

“Uh…if drinking beer and eating prime rib with my boys is repenting then I need to sin more often.” I don’t respond to Slade but I throw him a look that could skin a gator.

“So while we’re here, waiting for Mac to magically change her mind, we should talk business.” Prez leans in, elbows on his jean-clad knees as his face goes from content to lethal in half a second. “Your New York contact, what’s his name?”

“Marco Mancini,” I say, lounging in the camping-style chair and bringing the beer can to my lips to take a deep pull. “He’s got our backs, said he’d send his Reapers first and they’ll assess and let him know if we’re going to all-out war.”

Before we headed back home from The City, Marco made sure to get word to me that everything was in place and that he’d make sure the Irish got the fuck out of Dodge…or Rockford Beach, as quickly as they got here.

“What are we lookin’ at, here? An army of Yankees shootin’ up our town?” Boner gets up as he speaks, loading up his plate with a beef patty and enough condiments to supply the better half of the south east.

“I mean, them fuckers are already here so may as well get a few on our side.” Crow stretches out on the chair and shrugs. “I mean, if you take away the scary-as-fuck mafia thing goin’ on, they seemed all right.”

I’m about to throw a can tab at his ass because I remember him almost shitting his pants when he saw the fire power Marco’s men were carrying, but all thoughts of fun and games go right out the door when I hear a scream like I’ve never heard before in my life. And that’s saying something.

Saying a lot, really.

We’re all up in a second but I’m already running to the front door before they can get to their feet.

“Mackenzie, open this fucking door, right the fuck now!” I’m screaming, my body on high alert as I slam my fist on the wood over and over again. “Mackenzie!”

Giving up on the door, I run to the window, searching her out between the half-closed curtains until I see her.

With my hands flat against the window, a little piece of me dies inside as she throws her head back and howls like the devil is ripping her apart.

And holy shit, maybe he is.

Maybe he’s ripping us both apart.