Page 19 of Blackbeard (Blackjacks MC #2)

Chapter twelve

Leigh

I swayed on my feet as the clock ticked closer to midnight, but I didn’t dare breathe a word. Blackbeard had made it clear we were only supposed to be at the clubhouse for a few hours, even though that timeframe had flown by ages ago.

Exhaustion blurred the edges of my vision, and I gripped the edge of the bar counter to stay upright. After working so hard to convince the Blackjacks that I could be their bartender, I didn’t want to call it a night just because I was a little tired.

At last, Blackbeard waded through the crowded room and stepped behind the bar. He leaned close, resting his palm on my lower back.

“It’s late.” He practically had to shout to be heard over the jukebox and the buzz of conversation that filled the room. “Time to head home, princess.”

I was too relieved to protest, letting him guide me out of the clubhouse and into the cool night air.

“You did good,” Blackbeard said, passing my helmet to me.

I managed a fatigued smile at the crumb of praise.

“It’s kind of you to say that. Your club still hates me though. I doubt I’ll be hired for the job.”

He hummed as he tugged his own helmet on and clipped the straps together.

“Just give them time to get used to you. It’s been…what? A month since we signed that marriage agreement? The Forsaken did a lot of damage—years of it. That won’t disappear overnight.”

If only you knew how much more damage is coming your way, I thought.

As soon as Blackbeard pulled onto the road, the rumble of his motorcycle coupled with the blur of the landscape passing by quickly lulled me into a doze.

My head bobbed forward, resting against the back of Blackbeard’s neck.

When my arms began to droop from around his waist, he grabbed my hands, holding me in place.

By the time Blackbeard turned into the driveway, I was on the verge of descending into dreamland.

When he shut off the engine, I lifted my head, bleary and fighting the fuzziness of impending sleep that clouded my senses.

Stars glittered overhead, and a silvery crescent moon hung low over the shadowy mountains in the distance.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said. “Get inside before you’re snoring on my driveway.”

“I don’t snore,” I mumbled in protest.

Blackbeard hooked an arm around my waist, leading me up the sidewalk to the front door. I yawned wide enough to make my jaw crack and tucked my face into the curve of his neck.

Fuck, it was criminal that he smelled so damn good after hanging out in a biker bar for the past few hours. He should have reeked of cigar smoke, stale beer, and sweat. I kissed the juncture of his jawline, nuzzling at his ear.

“Behave yourself, princess,” Blackbeard warned, sternly. “There will be no sex tonight. You can barely stay awake.”

I huffed. “Killjoy.”

He chuckled and took a breath to reply when something clattered in the kitchen. Blackbeard pushed me behind him, angling his body in front of me, protectively. The fatigue that had clouded my brain a moment ago vanished, replaced with prickly alertness.

“Is anyone home?” he called.

Silence.

Blackbeard grumbled under his breath and reached behind him, curling his fingers around his pistol’s handle, tucked into the back of his waistband.

“Stay here,” he said. “It’s probably a cousin, raiding my fridge in the middle of the night.”

Liar , I thought.

If that was true, he wouldn’t be approaching with a gun in hand. Blackbeard silently crept toward the kitchen and flicked the light on.

“Hey, brother.”

Torch’s voice.

Shit .

I was on the move, skidding to a stop inside the kitchen, next to Blackbeard.

Torch propped his boots up at the kitchen table, tipping his head back as he drained a bottle of beer. Dirty plates and containers of leftover food littered the table before him. He’d been camped out for a while, waiting for Blackbeard to come home.

“Hi, Leigh,” Torch said, tipping his head at me with acknowledgement. “Thought I’d swing by to see how you were doing. Popeye hasn’t heard from you since…you know.”

Since I got shot.

I snorted. Dad hadn’t called or texted me, hadn’t made an attempt to contact me in any way. Except for that one visit after I was shot, and his primary concern then had been his contract, not my well-being.

“What do you want, Torch?” I demanded briskly.

He shrugged.

“I was hoping we could talk privately. One-on-one. Catch up, have a beer together like old times.”

Ah. So that’s what this was about. Torch missed me.

I studied him for several seconds—his jawline dusted with golden-brown stubble, his dark blue eyes, his barrel chest and thick, strong arms. Objectively, he was handsome, and I understood the appeal I had harbored for him in the past as a fuck buddy.

But I couldn’t conjure up a single speck of that appeal now. Which was strange. To tumble back into bed with him would have been easy.

Blackbeard had diligently steered clear of sex for weeks, apart from that one time after our marriage. I should have been eager to run into Torch’s arms for an orgasm that didn’t come from my vibrator, for once.

Instead, I remained rooted to the spot.

“Go home, Torch,” I said softly. “I’m married now. My place is here.”

Only for a year, at most. But that wasn’t the point.

We had never discussed my willingness to enter into this arrangement. Torch and I weren’t officially…anything. We didn’t have a label, and we didn’t sleep together with any kind of regularity. I wouldn’t exactly call us friends . And we certainly weren’t dating.

But he showed up when I needed something—a listening ear, an extra hand moving boxes into my apartment, or a quickie on the couch.

I couldn’t say that there was any warmth or affection between us. But we had developed a well-trodden path through each other’s lives, and now…now my life had taken a sharp turn, veering off into Blackbeard’s world with his club and his family.

Maybe after the Blackjacks crumbled, after the marriage contract was nullified, I could settle back into my old, familiar ways with Torch.

He set his beer bottle on the table with a sharp clank . Then he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, rolling his neck and shoulders with a groan.

“You’re looking a little tense, Leigh,” Torch said. “If I had to take a guess, I’d say your husband is falling short on his duties in the bedroom.”

Blackbeard chuckled, low and dark, at the jibe.

“Trust me, I made sure she has every ridge and every vein memorized by now.”

Torch flashed his teeth in a wolfish grin.

“Check your ego, brother. It’s not possible to satisfy a woman with two measly inches. She probably faked it to make sure your pride wasn’t bruised.”

Blackbeard arched an eyebrow and his demeanor cooled with an arctic drop in temperature.

“Are you speaking from first hand experience, brother?” he spat. “Because I don’t have that problem.”

When Torch took a threatening step forward, understanding dawned on me. I was a fucking idiot to think he was here for my sake. To reminisce about old times and get together for a fling, just like we used to do.

Torch was here to tip Blackbeard’s hand. Forcing him to lash out and attack Torch, which would put even more strain on the peace agreement between the Forsaken and the Blackjacks. This was simply part of the plan to chip away at the Blackjacks’ foundation, causing them to crumble.

I shouldered between them, putting one hand on Torch’s chest, and my other hand on Blackbeard’s chest. Pushing them apart.

“Stand down, boys. No fist fights in the kitchen. I mean it.”

Blackbeard rocked back on his heels, ready to let it go.

But Torch leaned forward, prepared to barge past me to get to Blackbeard.

“If Popeye had known you would turn his daughter into your own personal cock-sleeve without the decency to make her come, he would have never allowed you to get anywhere near that contract.”

Blackbeard growled and jabbed a finger at Torch.

“You break into my house. Eat my food. Then you have the goddamn balls to insult me and my wife.”

My stomach clenched at the grit in his voice when he said my wife.

Why did that sound so… good ?

I didn’t get the chance to soak it in though. Torch was trying his hardest to start a brawl. I knew Blackbeard was too smart to fall for that trick. But Torch could take the first swing, pushing Blackbeard into defending himself.

This wasn’t the plan. It was supposed to be a gradual progression, continually building conflicts that would undermine the Blackjacks so they would fall apart.

Had Dad changed things without telling me? Torch’s hostile demeanor, picking this fight intentionally, was too fast, too sudden.

Using both hands now, I used all my strength to shove against Torch’s chest. He stumbled back a few steps, stunned.

For the second time, I was choosing the Blackjacks over the Forsaken. I chose to stay when my father told me to leave. And now, I was siding with my new husband instead of Torch, who I had known for most ofmy life.

It’s part of the act, I told myself. I’m supposed to do this. I’m supposed to play the part of a loyal wife to earn Blackbeard’s trust.

Then why did it feel like I was turning against Torch, against my father, against the Forsaken? Why did it feel like a betrayal of my own people instead of betraying the Blackjacks that I had been planted here to do?

“I said, get out ,” I barked. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Torch huffed and marched past me, bumping his shoulder purposefully against Blackbeard before he walked out.

I released a long, tired sigh and rubbed my forehead. A tension headache was beginning to squeeze my temples.

“He still has feelings for you,” Blackbeard said.

I turned to look at him and shook my head.

“It’s not like that. Feelings were never involved. It was just sex.”

Blackbeard hummed as he moved toward the door.

“Maybe you should consider telling him that.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing I could sleep for a week. Everything was getting so fucking complicated…

“I’ll check the house,” Blackbeard tossed over his shoulder. “Make sure there aren’t any other Forsaken lurking around somewhere like cockroaches.”

“I can help—”

“No,” he cut in. “You’re exhausted. Go to bed. You pushed the envelope today enough as it is.”

I frowned and crossed my arms, gearing up to protest.

“And will you be sleeping on the couch? Again?”

Blackbeard released a sharp exhale of annoyance, his patience running thin. Turning around, he spread his hands.

“Don’t you think your old flame did enough damage for one night? Now you have to chew me out, too?”

“He’s not my old flame ,” I countered. “And I’m not talking about sex. Your bed is massive. There’s plenty of room for the two of us. You can’t possibly be getting any kind of decent rest on that damn couch.”

“Princess,” he said with a dry laugh. “I’m not getting decent rest as long as you’re in my house, period.

If I breathe wrong around you in any way, your dear old Pops will have my head on the chopping block.

That contract was supposed to clear the air.

Instead, it feels like I’m waiting for the guillotine to drop at any moment. ”

I gritted my teeth.

“Fine. Sleep on the couch. I don’t care.”

Striding past him, I headed for the bedroom and slammed the door hard enough to make the house tremble. Stripping off my clothes, I changed into a tank top and shorts, brushed my teeth furiously, and burrowed under the covers.

Why was I pissed off?

Because Blackbeard kept his distance? Because I couldn’t crack his steely resolve to avoid having sex with me, and my repeated failure to change his mind was testing my patience?

Or was something else nagging at me?

My father didn’t reach out.

Torch only showed up to start a fight with Blackbeard.

And the man who was supposed to be my husband insisted he would sleep on the couch, far away from me.

I made a noise of frustration and rolled over, staring at the shadows on the wall. As exhausted as I had been when we got here, sleep eluded me now. I remained wide awake, with a mind that wouldn’t settle down.

I considered going back home go Silver Gulch for a visit. Seeing some familiar faces would do me good. Get the scoop on any gossip I’d missed lately, and hang out with Dad for a few hours at the Forsaken clubhouse.

Then again, I needed to spend every waking moment getting under Blackbeard’s skin. If I spent too much time around the Forsaken, it wouldn’t create the trust I was supposed to be building as a new wife.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. By the time an hour had passed, I was ready to give up and distract myself from the quiet emptiness of the room some other way—mindlessly scrolling on my phone, or watching television.

Then the door slowly slid open. Blackbeard’s dark silhouette stepped into view. I didn’t dare breathe as he entered the room, footsteps cushioned on the carpet. He sank onto the edge of the bed and tugged off his boots, setting them aside. He stripped off his cut and draped it over a nearby chair.

The rest of his clothes followed suit—the faint whisk of fabric, the metallic clank of his belt, the heavy rustle of his jeans and the ensuing whump as they hit the floor.

The mattress dipped as he slipped under the sheets, easing down next to me. He was so close that I could feel his body heat.

“Better?” he grumbled into the dark.

I smiled.

“Well, you could be spooning me—”

“Don’t push your luck.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from laughing. Rolling over to face him, I kissed his shoulder. His bare skin was warm beneath my lips. I wiggled as close as I dared to without sending him running for that damn couch again.

And within seconds, I was fast asleep.