Page 19

19

F ollowing Abbey into the house, I don’t run like she is. I fucking stroll, knowing she’s heading to my room, and will likely lock herself in my bathroom again.

She doesn’t know I can get in there even if it’s locked. I let her have the space she needed yesterday, but today, she’s shit outta luck.

I ignore my ma’s concerned voice as I pass through the main living area, feeling like a cunt for being so rude to her, but I need to sort out this mess I made with my Angel. I need her to understand why I’m asking so much of her.

Once inside my room, just like I expected, I find the bathroom door locked, so I find the key hidden in my wardrobe, before unlocking the door and stepping inside .

Abbey is huddled in the empty bathtub, her arms around her knees, head tucked down, her body bouncing with nervous energy.

“Angel,” I rasp, stepping closer, and her head snaps up, those wide, disbelieving eyes locking onto mine.

“Of course.” She throws her hands up in a huff. “How stupid of me to think you couldn’t get in here.”

“You’re angry.”

“And you must have a really high IQ to be able to figure that out.”

“Ouch.” I slap a hand over my heart. “You’re nasty when you’re angry.”

Her lashes flutter as her face falls. “Shit… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Angel. Jols is right. I fucked this up.”

Even as she scoffs again, I catch the smirk she tries to hide.

Fuck. I’ll take her smile over her tears any day.

“Will you let me explain?” I ask, even though I’m not going to leave this room until she hears me out.

“I get the feeling I don’t have much choice.” She bites back.

Lowering my arse to the edge of the bath, I stare down at her, even as she shifts her gaze out through the window that overlooks the back of the property where a small stream runs.

I’ve seen a few different versions of my Angel since the day I stole her. There’s been a lot of tears. Fear. Heartbreak. But there’s also been strength. Playfulness. Sass. All brief flashes of the person I think she used to be, but none more than today.

None more than right now.

This woman here is strong, fed up, and willing to do everything in her power to protect her child. This side of her is not the submissive. This is the independent woman she was growing into before her family and ex stripped her of everything.

I don’t want to smother that fire in her. I want it to burn fucking bright and blind anyone who dares challenge it. But I can’t fucking do that if I can’t protect her, so now, I have to somehow get her to see my reasoning behind this huge fucking ask. Because even if I don’t like it, her protection requires a ring and vows.

“You saw Molly?” I ask, and her gaze snaps back to mine.

“Yes. What happened to her?”

“Well, Ayden’s parents’ apartment wasn’t the only place that got raided, Angel. Officer Allen issued an Amber alert for you, saying you are underage. That gave them grounds to enter and search any place they ‘reasonably believed’ you might be. Even without a warrant.”

Her eyes widen. “An Amber alert? But I’m eighteen.”

“Yep.” I reach out and brush my fingers over her cheek, for no other reason than I just need to touch her. “The cops also raided the Western. A few of the men got locked up for possession. They roughed up a couple of Doxies, and Molly got shot.”

“Molly got shot!” Her sweet voice is loud, bouncing off the walls.

“As you can see, she’s doing okay. Probably high on drugs and living her best life getting pushed around in a fucking pram.”

Abbey slaps her hand over her mouth as a laugh bubbles up.

“I’m sorry. That’s not funny.” She looks mortified that she laughed.

“What’s really funny is that Molly is getting better treatment than Celina.” I chuckle, and she giggles again, shaking her head at the madness of it all.

Then she falls silent again, taking a moment for that to sink in.

“So, because of me, Ayden’s parents and your club are suffering.”

“Uh-uh. Not because of you, but I’ll get to that in a moment, because it’s not just the Mitchells and my MC. The cops hit some of our biggest business associates, like the Marx family.”

Her eyes practically bug out of her head.

“You mean… Those guys in suits? Their family?”

I nod, as I stroke her pink strands behind her ear.

“Exactly.”

“But why?”

“To ruin the Southern Sadists’ rep,” I explain. “If our allies start turning against the club, it’ll weaken us. We’ll have no one to back us up, and provide extra protection for you.”

“So it is because of me,” she deadpans, looking pissed like I’m lying to her.

“Angel, it’s partly because of you, but the raids have more to do with me because I kind of… threatened Donny Allen and told him to tell his uncle that Ringo was coming for him.”

She blinks.

And then blinks some more.

“What? So now Ian Allen has made it personal because of you?”

“Pretty much.” I nod.

For a long beat she contemplates what I’ve shared with her, and I know the moment her confusion returns by the pucker of her brow.

“None of that explains why everyone is here to celebrate our wedding. ”

“That’s the next part of this shit show, Angel.”

“Of course,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There are only a couple of ways to mend the damage done with our associates to show them we are serious about our business.”

“Well, let’s choose the way that doesn’t mean I have to marry you,” she rushes out, and fuck, why does it hurt so fucking much every time she rejects the idea of marrying me?

“You know, you’re giving me a complex with how much you hate the idea of becoming my wife, Angel.”

She rolls those gorgeous eyes again. “What are the options?”

Standing from the edge of the bath, I toe off my boots and step into the tub, folding myself down into the other end, bringing us face to face. She shifts a little to let my legs slide on either side of her, and her delicate hands come to rest on top of my denim clad knees, her touch alone showing me I haven’t lost her, despite her anger.

“Option one, is the option I’m not willing to do. But, if you must know, it’s casting you out and washing our hands of you.”

Her eyes instantly redden, like she’s fighting back the threat of tears.

“Remember. It’s not a fucking option.”

She gulps at my attempt to reassure her, giving me a nod.

“So option two is us getting married? Why?”

“Loyalty. Devotion. Family.” I entwine our fingers, hoping my touch will remind her how good we feel together. “Right now, you’re a nobody to our associates. Old ladies are a club thing. It’s not recognised seriously in Australia’s underworld, therefore we have to show them we are serious. That you are important. And the only way to do that is by making you family. ”

Her caramel gaze drops to her feet, the frown in her brow, deepening.

Lifting her hand to my lips, I kiss it, drawing her gaze back to mine.

There she is.

“So, in truth, Angel, my club can’t protect you, because you aren’t part of the Southern Sadists family.”

“But couldn’t you just…” I’m already shaking my head before she finishes.

“Angel. My hands are tied. I know it sounds cold, but this is club life. It’s different. The club is the closest thing to family a lot of us have. It’s not just about running guns and breaking laws. It’s blood. Loyalty. Brotherhood. And that’s something the Marx family understands.”

“The club isn’t just your family, though. You have your mum and sisters.”

I nod. “Yeah, but I don’t have a dad. I got myself into a lot of shit as a teen. The only thing that kept me in line was my band, and Toby McCullen, the President of the Southern Sadists MC, back at that time.”

Abbey blinks at me. “You’ve never mentioned your dad before.”

“That’s because I don’t have one. I have a sperm donor, and that’s it. He left us when I was like fifteen or sixteen. Found a new woman and left the country. Turns out he owed money to a loan shark. Toby helped with that too. So for me, this club didn’t just keep me out of prison. It kept my family alive and safe.”

“So your loyalty is what keeps you in the club?”

“And purpose, Angel. Ain’t no other fucker gonna hire someone like me. Can you see me working at Maccas? ”

A grin tugs at her lips and she shakes her head.

“So, you’re saying I have to marry you in order to keep me safe?”

“Like I said before, there’s only one option I’m willing to accept, so like it or not, you have to marry me, or someone else in the club.” A low growl rumbles in my chest at that. “And let me be very fucking clear,” I shift forward, getting in her face, “there’s not a fucking chance in hell I’ll stand by and watch someone else make you theirs.”

For a few long moments, Abbey just stares at me. Her chest rises and falls, fast and shaky like she’s struggling with her emotions. Her fingertips dig into the denim over my thighs, pinching into my skin, her caramel stare piercing.

“So what you’re saying is, you saved me from being forced to marry one man, only to be forced into marrying you instead?”

I fucking flinch at the chill in her tone, so fucking hollow.

“I guess so.” I nod, my voice low. “But as soon as this is over, you can divorce my arse. Hell, you can take me for half of everything I own and set yourself up for a better life.”

Her glare turns deadly. “I don’t know what sort of person you think I am, but I would never do that to your mum and sisters.”

She stands abruptly, stepping out of the tub, leaving me sitting there like a stunned idiot.

“I’m petty enough to take your motorcycle, though.” She shrugs like my hog is no fucking big deal. “I’ve been around your club long enough to know how sacred a man’s ride is.”

“Bit fucking harsh,” I snap, and she shoots me a look that reeks of sarcasm.

“Is it?”

Then she fucking walks out.

“Hey! We’re not done.” I leap out of the tub, grabbing my boots off the floor as I chase after her.

“Actually, we are .” She storms out to my suite’s living area, calling over her shoulder. “If you expect me to marry you, without my best friend by my side, I might add, then you’d better get the hell out so I can find something remotely nice enough to wear.”

She stops at the mouth of the hallway, turning to me with her arms crossed and her eyes blazing.

“Abbey, come on. You know it’s the only way to protect you.”

“ No! ” she shouts. “It’s the only way to protect the club .”

“You fucking know it’s not about the club for me.”

She has the audacity to wave me off like I didn’t just speak.

“Whatever. I’ll marry you. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.” Jabbing a finger toward my bedroom door, she seethes. “Get out.”

“It’s my fucking room,” I protest, and she shakes her head.

“Actually, it’s mine now. If I have to sacrifice my maidenhood, then you can sacrifice your fucking bedroom.”

My cock is so fucking hard right now. I have a right mind to shut her up with it.

I also don’t have a fucking death wish.

“I’ll send Jols up,” I mutter. “She brought dresses.”

“Fine,” she snaps, her cheeks flushed with her fury, and I can tell she’s holding back tears.

Pretending to move past her, I quickly grab her unawares, pulling her to my chest.

She struggles, shoving and beating her fists against me. Fighting me with everything she’s got .

“I hate you!” she screams, and I hold tight, not letting her escape.

“No, you don’t,” I counter, feeling the fight slowly seep out of her.

“I do so,” she says softly against my chest.

“You’re angry, but you don’t hate me, Angel.” Leaning down, I press my lips to the top of her head, and she sinks into me a little more.

“What would you know?” she mutters, and this time, I release her and take a step back.

“I know that when I asked you to marry me last night, with your slick juices running down my chin, I fucking meant it.”

Her eyes widen, but I spin on my heel, needing this conversation to be done.

I feel too fucking raw. Like I’ve been cut open and the entire fucking world can see my insides.

It’s a weird fucking feeling, and not one I’m keen to get used to.

Back downstairs I apologise to my ma, where I take my scolding and lecture like a man, before heading outside where my club has now thoroughly invaded my little patch of paradise.

Jols gives me more shit for fucking up so badly, but hurries off with Lans to get the bride-to-be ready, and I spend the next two hours with my club brothers catching up before I duck off into the barn to get myself ready for my own fucking wedding.

It pisses me off that Abbey’s wedding day has to be like this, because she’s right. She should have Lexi here. And her other friends from Fox Pines. Hell, I bet she’s torn up about her littlest sister Tahli not being here too.

I’ll make it happen eventually. She’ll get her dream fucking wedding after all of this shit is over and those rapist fuckers are dead.

Assuming she even wants to keep me.

Fuck.

“You almost ready?” JD steps into the tiny fucking bedroom I was meant to sleep in last night.

“I suppose,” I mutter, staring at myself in the narrow mirror on the wall.

“You scrub up alright,” he snickers, and I smirk at my best mate.

“I feel like a fucking pansy.”

JD roars with a laugh, moving up between me and the mirror and starts unravelling the tie I just spent the last fucking ten minutes perfecting.

“You’re trying too hard. The collared shirt is enough. The tie isn’t you.” He wags his brows at me. “Besides I doubt she wants to see you look like anything but you at the end of the aisle.”

Fuck. I wish.

“She doesn’t even want to marry me, man.”

He nods, tossing the tie aside. “She’s been through a lot. Don’t take it personally. It’s about her, not you. Everyone can see how much she’s into you.”

I thought she was into me.

What am I thinking? Of course she’s into me. She never would have trusted me with her body last night if she wasn’t.

“Why the fuck am I so twisted up about her?”

JD chuckles and claps me on the shoulders. “She’s your person, man. Ain’t no other way to explain it. ”

“My person ,” I mutter, glancing back to the mirror to see the top few buttons of my black shirt undone, and this time when I look at myself, I see me.

Black shirt, sleeves already rolled up, my cut over the top, black jeans, and my freshly polished black shitkickers.

“Hair up or down?” I ask JD, and my best mate studies me for a moment before answering.

“Leave it up. Let everyone see that gorgeous face.”

“Fuck off.” I go to slap him, my hand meeting fresh air as he dodges it.

“Hey, as your best man, I have to be honest.”

I roll my fucking eyes.

Fuck. My Angel is rubbing off on me. Now I’m an eye roller?

Organising the wedding has been rushed as fuck. Smitty had people working all night to make sure everything was in place for this to go smoothly.

“Tell me Lewy has arrived with the documents,” I ask JD as he eyes himself in the mirror.

“He has. He’s got her birth certificate, and her learner’s driver’s licence credentials. Ace has the marriage certificates ready, too. The fucker is keen as hell to officiate today. He’s ready to go when you are.”

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Am I really doing this?”

“You sure fucking are.” He gestures to the open door. “Let’s get you hitched so this party can begin, and you can consummate your marriage.”

“I like the idea of that last part,” I grin, before it fucking slips away. “I don't fucking know if she’s going to come out of my room to marry me. ”

His lips spread wide in a grin. “She’s already waiting downstairs, man.”

What?

My fucking heart flips in my chest, and I’m moving before I can stop myself, dead set on making Abbey mine for fucking ever.

Trunk and Murf have everything set up, yelling for everyone to sit the fuck down as I step out into the chaos.

The barn doors are wide open, letting the outside in, and I make my way over to the duck pond where Ace, our ordained brother, waits on the deck overlooking the water.

I catch Wendy’s scowling face in the crowd, and wish like fuck Smitty had approved my request to fucking banish her. The problem is, Wendy is an anything goes type of Doxy, so the men fucking froth over her. There’d be a riot if she got sent packing, but at least Smitty gave her an official warning. You only get one in our club. Next fuck up, and she’s gone.

Those that are sitting are on hay bales and low benches slapped together from old scraps of timber, lining the makeshift aisle, while the rest of the crowd stand around the outside, watching on.

I get a few whoops and cheers as I take my position on the deck, some of the Doxies throwing catcalls my way.

The second I spot Ma moving to her seat, I rush forward and take her arm, helping her over the uneven ground, my gut clenching at how unsteady she seems on her feet.

Shit .

Millie hurries to join us, and the look we exchange says it all. It’s one we’ve shared more times than I can count.

Ma is close to a flare up .

“Would you two stop fussing?” she mutters as we help her to sit. “You’re carrying on like I’m some old biddy.”

“I’ll never stop fussing over you, Ma,” I tell her as she relaxes back in her seat, her hand lifting to cup my jaw.

“You’re a good boy, Cameron. Even though we can’t see him, just remember Bobby is standing right by your side today.”

“Shit, Ma,” Millie sobs. “You’re making me cry before the wedding has even started.”

Fuck. I wish my little brother was here.

It takes me three fucking tries to swallow the lump in my throat, and when I finally do, I press a kiss to Ma’s forehead before returning to the deck.

A hush falls over the crowd as Smitty yells, “Quieten down!” And then I spot Lani hurrying out of the house, a camera at the ready as music starts playing through the outdoor speakers.

I barely register the tune, too busy waiting for my first glimpse of my bride.

Is she really going to marry me? Or will she leave me at the altar?

The male voice singing through the speakers finally registers, and I fucking stiffen, spinning to face Ace.

“What the fuck is this music?”

He shrugs, taking a noticeable step back. “It’s what the bride wanted.”

“What the fuck is it?” JD whispers from next to me, and fuck me, my soon-to be-wife has a set of balls on her.

“That little…” I trail off, turning my smirk to my best man. “It’s fucking One Direction.”

Horror flashes across his expression. “Oh.”

Yeah… fucking, oh !

My fucking jaw ticks as I shoot my gaze back to the steps of my house to see Jols already doing her wedding march or whatever the fuck you call it, heading our way as Abbey’s stand-in-bridesmaid.

“Fuck me,” JD mutters under his breath, and I sneak a glance at him.

Jesus, he’s practically drooling.

I’ve always known he has a thing for Jols, but lately, he’s not being real fucking subtle about hiding it. Especially from Smitty, Jols’ step-dad.

“Keep it in your pants. Prez is coming,” I mutter under my breath, and in my peripheral, I see JD stand taller, straightening his cut.

It’s then that I finally get my first glimpse at my bride as she steps from inside my house.

She’s wearing a grin, her lips moving as she walks, and it takes me a hot fucking second to realise she’s singing along to the fucking song.

I barely register the ivory satin dress draped over her curves and baby bump, or the low neckline, accentuating her plump tits. Because all I can focus on is her shit-eating-grin as she proudly sings the lyrics to her favorite boy band like she’s throwing me a big, smug fuck you.

Fucking little brat.

Jols takes her place on the far side, giving Abbey space to join me on the deck, and I shake my head at my Angel, my cock already a fucking semi just from her defiance.

“ ... let these little things slip out of my mouth... ” Abbey sings, the sweet scent of berries wrapping around me, and I forget all about the fucking boy band playing in the background, or the sixty plus eyes watching us.

All I can focus on are those big doe caramel eyes, striking with the subtle makeup illuminating her skin in a glow that accentuates the one she had earlier this morning.

“ Cause it’s you, ” she sings quietly, so only I can hear, taking the hand I hold out to her. “ Oh it’s you. It’s you they add up to. ”

When the song hits the part about being in love, Abbey stops singing and quirks a single brow as she leans closer.

“When I say our vows today, I’m going to be picturing Harry Styles instead of you.”