Page 13

13

I can’t tell if Ringo’s sisters like me or not. As soon as I step inside the impressive house made of stone and steel, Lani hooks her arm through mine and leads me in deeper.

I’m awestruck when we enter a generous open plan living, dining and kitchen area, lit by natural light streaming in through the towering windows that must be at least three stories high. With all the sunlight shining in, I expect the room to be hot, but it’s surprisingly cool.

Maybe the glass is tinted.

“My brother was talking in riddles before. I couldn’t quite make sense of half of it,” Lani rambles, leading me to a stool at the kitchen counter before slipping the strap of my bag off my shoulder.

Dammit. I want that back.

I feel oddly protective of the bag. It’s all I have, even if most of what’s inside isn’t even mine.

Lani drops it beside the softest looking couch I’ve ever seen, before turning her attention back to me.

Glancing away, I feel the weight of her judgement roll over me in waves.

Where the hell is Ringo? I thought he was right behind me.

Glancing back towards the wide hallway leading to the front door, I find it empty.

Did he seriously just ditch me with his sisters?

“So, you’re his old lady?” Lani asks, appearing right in front of me.

Did she run back across the room?

“Lana, give the girl some space to breathe,” Ringo’s mum scolds, and when our eyes meet, she offers me a warm smile before returning to her chopping board, dicing up vegetables.

“No, let her speak. I want to know what our darling brother has gotten himself into.” Millie smirks, but there’s nothing friendly about it. Her eyes rake over me, my pink hair, my makeup free face, the hot pink tee I’m wearing.

Shit.

The. Hot. Pink. T-shirt!

I was too distracted by the possibility of the police turning up at Ayden’s parents’ apartment to think fast enough when Ringo said he was bringing me here. I can’t believe I’m meeting his mother and sisters for the first time wearing the t-shirt I borrowed from Shandi .

Like my ass? Imagine it grinding on your lap. Leather & Lace Gentlemen’s Club Melbourne

My cheeks flame as Lani giggles and Millie glares, both of them taking a moment to read the damn t-shirt.

Mortified.

That’s the only word for what I feel right now.

Okay, ground. You can open up and swallow me now.

Please!

“Well, I guess we know where he found you,” Millie scoffs as Ringo finally strolls in, a frown tugging at his brows.

“And where’s that?” he asks, his gaze bouncing between us.

“A strip club, Cam? Really?” Millie crosses her arms over her chest, unimpressed, and Ringo’s frown deepens until he spots my tee.

Then he laughs.

“Yep. Apparently I’ve got a thing for half naked, pregnant strippers.”

“Cameron!” his mother snaps, but he and his sisters ignore her.

“She was already pregnant?” Lani squeaks. “You mean to tell me, you made a stripper your old lady and the baby’s not even yours?”

She makes it sound like a scandal, talking about me like I’m not even in the room.

Ringo’s sisters are confusing me. One second I think they like me, and the next I feel like I’m the enemy, and all Ringo can do is shrug like it’s just another typical Friday.

I can’t just sit here and listen to this.

The old Abbey would have, but I’m not her anymore.

“Whoa, hold up.” I slide off the stool, hands raised. “First of all, I am not a stripper. Don’t listen to your brother. He’s talking shit.”

JD bursts out laughing, while Ringo’s smile falls.

“You’re swearing now?”

“Damn right I am, Mr!” I snap back before swinging my glare at the sisters, who both look like they have a front row seat to a reality show. “If you must know, your brother kidnapped me, kept me locked in his room, and then claimed me as his in front of his barbarian biker buddies.”

“Hey,” JD pouts. “I’m no barbarian.”

“He kidnapped you?!” Lani gasps, just as Ringo’s mum slams her knife down on the stone benchtop.

“She’d better be joking, Cameron!”

Cringing, I glance at Ringo, and his jaw ticks as he levels me with a glare.

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, Angel.”

“Angel?” Lani echoes, so softly I almost miss it.

Sighing, Ringo pinches the bridge of his nose before raising his hands.

“Everyone just stop. Give me a second to think.”

“You’d better be thinking fast, boy. Don’t think you’re too old for me to give you a good hiding.”

Ohhhh. I like Ringo’s mum.

“You call her Angel?” Lani is hyper focused on that part for some reason.

“How about we all sit down, and I’ll explain the situation,” Ringo suggests. “Then you can decide if I still deserve a hiding, Ma. ”

Biting back my smirk, I glance at his mother, such a petite yet fierce woman giving her grown son the look .

I shouldn’t find it funny, but watching him get scolded by his mum and bicker with his sisters makes him more real… more human.

It does something to my heart.

“Fine.” His mum nods. “Let’s all take a seat and hear how my boy plans to worm his way out of this one.”

This time, my giggle slips free, and even though Ringo shoots me another glare, there’s no fire in it.

His mum heads towards the plush couch, the sisters following behind, but not before Millie slices a finger across her throat at her brother, and Lani pokes out her tongue.

“You want me here for this?” JD asks, and Ringo shakes his head.

“Nah, head over to the barn and get it set up for us. Call Smitty too. See if there are any updates from the spotters on the streets.”

“Will do.” JD nods, and as he passes me, he shoots me a mischievous wink.

I have no idea what Ringo means about spotters. But the tension in his tone makes my stomach twist.

This mess and all of this chaos is because of me. I hate the thought of anyone suffering for me. It makes me want to crawl out of my own skin.

“I should spank you for being a brat, Angel.”

Ringo’s hushed, deep voice brushes against my ear as he passes, and I swear I stop breathing. But when he glances back and points to the couch where his mother and sisters are already seated, I gulp.

There’s no way anyone looking could miss it. The lump in my throat is the size of a tennis ball, only this time, it’s not caused from holding back tears. It’s something else entirely, and whatever it is sends a flush over my skin from the tip of my toes all the way up to the crown of my head.

Ringo waits patiently, his gaze never leaving me until I move, joining his family on the couch.

I feel completely out of place. Like maybe he should be having this conversation without me, where judgemental opinions can’t break through my walls.

“Abbey wasn’t lying. I did kidnap her,” he starts, holding up his hands before anyone can jump in. “But before you chew me out, I did it as a favour for a friend. Abbey needed help. She was in a bad situation. She needed to get out fast, and taken somewhere her family and the cops wouldn’t find her.”

Slowly, three sets of eyes, so similar to Ringo’s, slide my way.

“Holy shit. Your hair is actually blonde, isn’t it?” Lani’s gaze tracks over my pink strands. “You’re the girl from the news.”

“So she wasn’t lying about you taking her and locking her in your room?” Millie asks Ringo, and he shakes his head.

“And that’s not my brother’s?” Lani asks, pointing to my baby bump.

Instinctively, my hand cradles the swell of my stomach like a shield as I shake my head.

“No.”

“Whose is it?” Millie presses, but Ringo cuts in before I even part my lips to reply.

“That part is none of your business. Abbey has been through… a lot, and the people who hurt her are still out there. You will respect her privacy. ”

“Of course we will.” His mum stands, moving to Ringo and giving his arm a squeeze before turning to me. “I’m sorry you’ve been through such a rough time, sweetheart. I hope your stay with us will be peaceful.”

“I’m sorry,” Millie snaps, standing, her face contorted in anger. “Is no one gonna mention the fact that whoever’s after Abbey might show up here?”

My heart sinks.

She has a right to be concerned. What if I’m putting them all in danger? They don’t deserve that.

“Shut up, Millie,” Ringo growls, but I’m already standing, shaking my head.

“She’s right. I should go.”

I barely make it two steps before Ringo’s big hand closes around my wrist, his voice a growl, low and rough, not even trying to hide his warning from his mum and sisters.

“Don’t you fucking run from me again.”

I spin to face him, my jaw clenched tight, letting him see my anger. I’m trying so hard not to lose my shit in front of his mum, but my voice still comes out sharp.

“You know the last thing I want is to be a burden. To put everyone in danger.”

“And you should know by now, Angel, that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. So how about you let me?”

His eyes are wild, like his monster is lurking beneath the surface, the storm brewing within him barely contained.

“You’re kind of bossy, big brother.” Lani tuts, which is Ringo’s tipping point .

“For fuck’s sake! Will you all just lay off for one goddamn minute?!” He explodes, spinning to face them, his face redder than I’ve ever seen it.

Shit. He’s properly pissed. Not the haunted, grief-fuelled anger I’ve witnessed before. This is different.

This is raw frustration.

“I haven’t slept in fucking days.” He drags his hand through his hair, pulling on the long strands. “Actually, scratch that. I haven’t slept in weeks ,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I came here because we needed somewhere to lay low and take a goddamn breath. Can you all just let us do that please?”

Silence.

For a long drawn out beat, no one says a word.

I don’t dare look at his mum or sisters. The guilt is already crushing me, reminding me I’m not worth this much trouble.

“Of course we can do that,” his mum says softly, stepping up to him and slipping her hand into his.

I stare at them for a moment. At the way she looks lovingly up at him. At the way he softens for her. This fierce man, unravelling with tenderness in front of his mum.

Damn.

Why is seeing Ringo like this so…. attractive?

If I weren’t already pregnant, I feel like I would’ve just conceived right this second just from watching the way he respects his mother.

But then, his mum rears back, and brings her hand down hard on his in a loud, echoing slap.

I jump at the sound, dumbfounded as she jabs her finger at his chest, and Ringo gasps… like actually gasps … and yanks his hand back, no match for his mother .

“You will do well to remember that I don’t tolerate foul language in this house, Cameron.” Her finger wags like a weapon in front of his face. “You’re more than welcome here, since this is your home. But you will show respect and remember we do not speak like that around here, Cameron Eugene. Are we clear?”

“Geez, yes, Ma. Did you really have to slap me?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t still have my knife in my hand, boy.”

Oh my…

I suck in my lips, biting down to keep from laughing.

If there’s anyone on this Earth who can keep Cameron Musgrove in line, it’s his mother.

“Right, well now that that’s settled,” she forces a smile, regaining her composure and gesturing to me, “why don’t you show Abbey around? I’m sure she’s going to love it here.”

Whiplashed.

That’s the only way I can explain how I’m feeling right now.

I still don’t know if I’m truly welcome. His mum is being kind, but his sisters? Well, their eyes are still sharp when they fall on me.

I can’t blame them. I’m a stranger in their home. They don’t know me from a bar of soap, so it’s only natural to be wary of me.

As Ringo’s mum returns to the kitchen, his sisters leave the room, whispering something to him on their way past. I don’t hear it, and honestly, I’m glad. I already feel like such an intrusion.

“Come on, Angel. Let me show you around.” Ringo gestures to nowhere in particular, so I nod, quickly picking up my backpack, not wanting to leave it alone given the cash tucked away inside .

As Ringo shows me through his home, I don’t say much, my eyes and mind too transfixed on the towering man doing such a mundane, domesticated thing like giving me a tour of his house.

I would never have pictured him in a place like this. It’s so different from the rough, banged up filth of the Western. There’s so much pride in his expression as he shows me around, a lightness to the way he walks, his shoulders relaxed and at ease.

I chew on my lip, and my eyes fall to his as they move, explaining something about this house that I’m simply not hearing. Not when he’s such a distraction. This hulking man, covered in tattoos who rides a motorcycle that I can only compare to a steel road demon with how loud it is and how powerful it felt between my thighs.

Ohhhh. That sounded dirty, didn’t it?

I inwardly smirk.

As strange as this sounds, even though I feel out of place, I feel closer to the old Abbey than I have in years.

The old me, she had dreams. She had fun. She didn’t have many boyfriends, but that’s okay, she had Lexi, and together, they got into mischief.

This version of me that’s been dormant for a couple of years, is still alive, still has dreams, but has needs she never used to.

I would have shocked the old me with how fascinated I am by the contradiction walking beside me. The menacing brute wrapped in muscle, who dotes on his mum and probably feeds those cute ducks I spotted out on the pond.

The house is three storeys, and when we reach the top floor landing, I pause by the tall windows, gazing out over the peaceful pond .

The tranquility of this place doesn’t match Ringo’s energy at all, but maybe I only think that because I barely know him.

Maybe, this is where he planned on raising Hope. Maybe he would have married Kylie. Maybe he planned to quit the club and be a family man.

Whatever the reason, it’s a shame his ex was the way she was. She missed out on something truly beautiful by giving in to the drugs.

But what do I know?

All I know is a girl could get used to this.

Is it bad that I want this tour to hurry up and end?

I mean, the house is stunning. Don’t get me wrong. But being so close to Ringo again, after longing for him night after night as I tried to sleep on that lumpy couch at Leather and Lace… well, it has that ache returning tenfold. The same ache he helped me with at the Western.

“This is my room.” Ringo’s deep baritone snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see him keying in a number on the keypad.

“You keep it locked?” I smirk and he nods, pressing his palm to the heavy timber door before pushing it open.

“Absolutely, I do. Can you imagine my sisters? They’d take over my space. Touch my shit. I don’t fucking think so.”

I burst out laughing, because that is the most brotherly thing I have ever heard.

I know what it’s like to have sisters going through your stuff, helping themselves.

God, I miss that.

What I wouldn’t give to have little Tahli bugging me about borrowing something .

Maggie, though? She can bugger right off.

Following Ringo through the door, we step into a long hallway that opens up into another living space. There’s a small kitchenette and a plush charcoal couch, similar to the one downstairs, but smaller. Cosier. The kind that only fits two people.

My attention shifts to the side of the room where a number of guitars are hanging on the wall. Some are electric. Some are big and others are small, and I think one may be a banjo.

I don’t know for certain since instruments have never been my thing but its circular body looks like it to me.

“I don’t get much time to enjoy them these days.” Ringo’s deep voice is right behind me, and I want to turn and face him, but I don’t.

Instead, I enjoy the heat of him at my back, so close I swear I can feel his breath on my neck.

It’s strange how comfortable I am with him now. A month ago, I would have felt uneasy having my back to him, not able to watch if he was gearing up to pounce.

We’d gotten close back at the Western. I even got intimate with him.

Shit. Is intimate the right word to use when you let a guy touch your… coochie?

“I guess there’s not much time for luxuries like playing a guitar when you’re with your club.” I breathe, my skin prickling with little zaps of static electricity, reacting to every tiny shift of his body behind me.

“Not so much,” he agrees, right at my ear, the sound sending a shiver up my spine. “You cold, Angel? ”

My cheeks flame, heat licking across them like they do so often when he’s around, but I can’t lie to Ringo, so I shake my head.

“Not cold.”

“Hmmm.”

Oh dear God, he’s so close. Too close, yet not close enough.

Touch me.

Wait… do I want that? For him to touch me.

He’s touched me numerous times since he found me again, but they were nothing but innocent. Not the sort of touching I’m anticipating.

Just this morning we were locked in a bathroom together, and I thought I wasn’t ready to have him completely. My body feels ready though. I’m practically on fire, burning for him. His touch. His lips. His… dick.

Shit, is that what I want?

“Turn around, Angel.”

My breath catches at his low rasp, and I do what he says, slowly turning to take him in. I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes, and my deep shallow breaths make my breasts brush against his vest.

Staring down at me, his fingers are gentle as they reach out to brush some of my pink strands behind my ear with a gentleness that weakens me.

Then his gaze drops to my mouth.

My tongue darts out to wet my lips, having a mind of its own, and I wait, barely breathing, to see if he’s going to kiss me.

His lips part, and his eyes flick back to mine.

“Let me show you my bed, Angel.”