Authors: Ann Mayburn
My orgasm started to race up my back, spurred on by her words. Thankfully, Swan seemed to be approaching her own peak. After a little more dirty talk, she shattered around me, her pussy tightening and releasing in a way that swiftly pushed me over, and I groaned my way through the intense pleasure of emptying myself into my woman, every sensation dragging a shudder from me. As the last wave of pleasure flooded my system I collapsed next to Swan, rolling her over so she could cuddle into me. I loved holding her like this, draped on my body, boneless and purring. My feelings for this girl had grown beyond words, and I was so fuckin’ happy she’d taken my ring without hesitation.
We were having lunch in bed when my phone beeped to alert me that someone had sent me an emergency text. I stiffened as a wave of foreboding moved through me. Somehow I knew the peaceful moments we’d stolen for ourselves wouldn’t last long.
Swan must have noticed because she rolled off of me. “What’s wrong?”
“I told Beach I only wanted to be contacted if the shit had hit the fan.”
She stared in the direction of my phone and her anxiety was contagious as I dug for it through my pockets. It only took me seconds to open the text from Beach:
Call me ASAP. It’s about your family.
Icy dread curled around my spine, and I was barely aware of Swan on the bed behind me. I think she said my name, but I was so intent on finding out what was going on that I didn’t respond. Shit, my brother-in-law, had he lost his life overseas like too many of my buddies? Or was it my sister, or—please God, no—my nieces.
I began to pace, and when Beach picked up on the second ring I barked out, “What the fuck is going on?”
“Brother, I need you to remain calm, okay? I need you to listen and remain calm. You might want to consider leaving the room if Swan is there.”
I swear my breath stuck in my lungs as I waited for him to tell me my brother-in-law was dead. My heart slammed in my chest as my breathing picked up, bone-deep fear racing through me. I fuckin’ hated being afraid. It sucked, but I’d be damned if I could control it. Glancing behind me, I found Swan watching me with open concern as I battled with leaving the room or staying. As I watched her, I calmed enough to keep from having a meltdown, and I knew my decision. My girl was a part of my life in every way now, and I wasn’t gonna hide shit from her.
“It’s all good. Now what the fuck is going on?”
“I’m so sorry to tell you this, but Veronica either committed suicide or was murdered on Hustler’s back porch last night. I need you home to help your sister with funeral arrangements. We’re takin’ care of her, but she needs you right now and so does Hustler. I’m so sorry, man. I promise you, I swear to you, that if someone did murder her we
will
find them and take care of them.”
A dull roar echoed in my head as I tried to figure out what he was saying. Veronica couldn’t be dead. It was my job to protect her, to keep her safe and I’d failed. Failed my family. My throat tightened up, and I managed to grit out, “We’re on our way home.”
“Got tickets waiting for you at the airport in Denver, you and Swan.”
“Leave your truck there. Khan’ll have one of his boys bring it down. You okay? I can get one of the brothers to drive you if you need it. We’re here to do anything we can for you. Understood?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
There was a long, awkward pause where I swear I could feel Beach’s sorrow through the phone then I hung up without saying goodbye.
I have no idea how long I stood there, staring at the wall, before Swan’s voice tugged me out of my shame, guilt, and deep sorrow. “Smoke? What’s wrong?”
What was wrong was that Veronica was dead because I wasn’t there to take care of her. I didn’t even come back to help her when she slit her wrists. While I didn’t regret my decision to save Swan’s life, I couldn’t help but think about how my selfish actions had helped lead to the death of a woman who had so much potential when she stayed on her meds. And Hustler…shit, he must be losing his mind. I wondered if he was in jail right now as I dialed my sister’s number, dreading the call.
After four rings she picked up, her voice thick and exhausted. “Hi, honey.”
I swallowed hard and turned to face the wall, not wanting Swan to see me with my soul wounded like this. “How are you?”
“Not so good.” She gave a watery sigh. “I haven’t had the heart to tell the girls yet, and the military is still trying to hunt my husband down.”
“I’m on my way. Just hang in there.”
“I heard about the miracle Sarah managed to pull off. Congratulations.”
While there was absolutely no accusation in her voice, I flinched anyway. “Thanks.”
“A bunch of Tricks’ relatives are on their way to help, and you know the club has been bending over backwards to take care of us. Right now, Scarlett is cooking up a storm while Birdie and Gina are with the girls, giving me some time to get my shit together. I’m hanging in there with lots of support.”
“How’s Hustler?”
For the first time her voice broke. “Not so good. He’s a suspect, of course. Iron Horse’s lawyers are talking with him right now.”
“Wait, so it wasn’t suicide?”
“No. Jinks and Track checked the scene out before the cops got there. Veronica was shot in the back of the head at an angle impossible for her to reach. She was for sure left there for Hustler to find. We just don’t know why.”
I was a total shit of a human being because that news made me feel a little better and eased my guilt. Anger built in me and filled my mind with thoughts of bloody, terrible revenge. I couldn’t help but picture Veronica being shot. Someone was going to pay, big time.
“I gotta go, Julia. Love you and the girls. I’ll be home soon.”
“Is Swan coming with you?”
For the first time, I hesitated about that question. Of course, I wanted her with me, but I really didn’t feel comfortable with her meeting my extended family at a funeral. Not that anyone would give a fuck. They’d probably be too shocked by the fact that I was getting married to care. Man, that sucked even more. I couldn’t even celebrate my engagement with my family right now. Swan deserved the best I could give her and that wasn’t showing off her engagement ring at a wake.
“I think I need to focus on you and the girls right now.”
“Miguel Santos!” My sister shouted into the phone. “You better not fuck things up with her. You bring her with you and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
“What?”
“She is so good for you, such a strong woman, and I’ve talked with Cathy up in Denver a lot this week, checking up on you.”
“You have?”
“Of course, you’re my brother. Do you really think I wouldn’t worry my ass off about you? But I knew that you didn’t need the distraction of my fretting. I don’t think you really understand how much you’re loved and by how many people. I met Swan’s Dad earlier this week. Intense guy, but he said I was the closest thing you had to a mother and he wanted to make sure you and Swan were a good match.” Her laugh was harsh, but when she spoke again her voice was a little lighter. “I found myself pointing out your very dubious virtues to him, and I felt like I was trying to pimp you out to a reluctant buyer.”
“Mike Anderson came to visit you?”
On the bed, Swan gave a loud, dramatic moan of despair.
“He was a perfect gentleman, Smoke. Never once made me or the girls feel uncomfortable. In fact, they swarmed all over him. He said if yours and Swan’s babies are half as pretty as mine he might forgive you for stealing his daughter from him.”
My gaze darted to Swan almost against my will, afraid of what she’d read on my face. I was a fuckin’ mess, my mind not really engaging, and I hurt inside. No matter how much I wanted to avoid thinking about it, Veronica was dead. Funny how when someone passes we forget about the bad shit and remember the good.
“I gotta go, Julia. According to the info Beach sent me I should be landing around 6 p.m.”
“I’m coming to pick you both up,” she said in a firm, no bullshit voice. “Swan’s dad mentioned the ring so I know she’s going to be part of our family soon. Right?”
“I just gave it to her,” I murmured while finally daring to look at Swan again.
She knelt among the messed up sheets and blankets, now dressed in a pair of jeans and a sedate emerald green top. Her big blue eyes were filled with worry, and she had her hands fisted in the sheets tight enough to turn her knuckles white. With a start, it dawned on me that she was so freaked out because she thought the call was about a threat to her. And maybe it was. I doubted Veronica’s death was a random act of violence. It might be a form of revenge. Whoever had stolen those missiles had to be fuckin’ pissed about losing them.
Julia yelled to someone in the background, “Hey, I’m going to pick Smoke up from the airport at six. You mind watching the kids?”
Holding Swan’s gaze, I tried to let her know that it was gonna be all right, that she didn’t need to worry, but she only looked even more alarmed. Her attention kept darting to where her guns were stashed and I knew I had to get off the phone and calm her down. Taking care of her helped center me—simple as that.
“Gotta go. Love you.”
She sounded distracted as she replied, “Love you too. I’ll see you
and
Swan at six.”
“Roger that.”
I hung up and turned back to find Swan standing about two paces from me now. Damn she was sneaky, and quick. When her steel-blue gaze locked on mine, I sighed internally as I realized just how quickly she’d slipped into survival mode. While she was still stressed, she was done with me not telling her anything.
Sure enough, “Smoke, if you want me to be your wife you have to be on the level with me. What is going on? Tell me. I can take it.”
My voice sounded tight and choked as I forced out, “Veronica was murdered last night on Hustler’s back porch.”
Her eyes grew impossibly wide and she pressed a hand to her chest like her heart hurt. “Oh my God, you’re serious. How?”
“I don’t know the details, but she was shot in the back of the head.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes and she continued to press her hand to her chest. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”
Yeah, the whole fuckin’ thing was heartrending on so many levels it made a Greek tragedy look like a romantic comedy. I was gonna break down soon, I could feel it nipping at my heels and even though I wanted to go mourn by myself, I also wanted to hold Swan while I let my grief go. I just worried that it would be too much for her to process, that she wouldn’t understand that while Veronica was far from my favorite person, she was still my family and didn’t deserve to be shot and dumped on Hustler’s porch like a piece of garbage.
Swan took the decision out of my hands by pulling me gently back into bed with her. She sat with her back against some pillows and the headboard, then drew me down until my head was in her lap. I wrapped my arms around her legs and held her tight, closing my eyes at the simple pleasure of her playing with my hair. Flashes of my life with Veronica kept spilling into my head as I tried to deal with the fact that she’d never have the chance to enjoy the sensation of someone playing with her hair again. It was such a weird thing to focus on, but my brain seemed to be stuck on it, stuck on all the things Veronica would never experience. Shit had gotten bad with her over the last couple years, but at one time, before her bipolar disorder took over her life, she was a nice woman with a bright future.
The tears started of their own accord, and I turned my head to Swan’s thigh, pressing my face against the warm cotton of her jeans and gripping her hips harder. She began to whisper sweet words of love and healing, trying her best to ease my pain. I can’t tell you how good it felt to have someone who loved me hold me while I cried. Now I know some guys think it’s a pussy thing to cry in front of their woman, but that’s bullshit. Crying over the loss of a loved one isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s part of what makes us human.
Eventually, I wound up wrapped around Swan, tired and feeling empty. She watched me closely, petting me and loving me, easing my grief. With a soft groan I rolled over to my back, hauling her on top of me. She traced the bow of my lips then said in a quiet voice, “My heart aches for you and your family.”
That squeezed another tear from me, and I held her tight. Loving the gentle give of her body and her warmth as she wrapped herself around me. I slowly relaxed, and my mind cleared. I held on to one absolute truth. As long as I had my woman, everything would be all right.
The flight back was uneventful. Beach had booked us first class seats and Swan slept most of the way, her head on my shoulder, while I stared out the window as the world sped by. We had to leave our weapons with Khan because taking that shit through airport security was impossible. I know Swan had been irked to leave her knives behind, but she didn’t complain.
As we stood around waiting for our luggage, I kept a constant eye on my girl, making sure no one got too close to her or looked too hard. I swear guys were eye fuckin’ her left and right. Not that I could blame them one bit. She was probably the hottest woman these gaping motherfuckers would ever see, but I made more than one man take a step back when I caught him staring at her a little too long. Swan was oblivious, busy texting her sister. She kept running her tongue over her lower lip, and I wanted to kiss her hard enough to make her melt. But I knew she probably wouldn’t appreciate me mauling her in a busy airport, so I kept my hands and my lips to myself.
I tried calling my sister, but there was no answer, not that I really expected one. Julia never answered her cell phone while driving, so I sent her a text letting her know we were here and asking where we should meet her. By the time I was done, I noticed a guy approaching us out of the corner of my eye. I turned quickly, ready to knock someone right the fuck out if they messed with Swan, but I quickly recognized the man grinning at us. It was Cruz, a member of the Iron Horse MC and an old friend. With his full grey beard and large size he was a physically intimidating man, and Swan hung back, slightly behind me, as I introduced her to him.