Page 7 of Blackbeard (Blackjacks MC #2)

Which was true. From the information I gathered on Blackbeard, he had a pretty serious relationship back in his early twenties. When he was still a young, fresh-faced medical student, eager to change the world out of the goodness of his heart.

I never found out why the relationship ended. But I hoped I would get an answer eventually, if only to sate my curiosity.

That was the tricky part about obtaining information the way I did—it was often too impersonal. I could piece together the lives of these men by facts, dates, and names of the people they’d associated with in the past.

But I didn’t know what made them tick. I had to navigate that in real time, while I was among them like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Besides,” Blackbeard said, tapping his temple. “I don’t trust you, sweetheart. So I have to keep my head on straight when you’re around.”

I lifted my chin and crossed my arms.

“I suppose that means you won’t be interested in consummating the marriage then.”

For a split second, Blackbeard hesitated. Then he shrugged.

“Guess not.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a smile.

We’ll see about that.

Dad placed his hands on the table and stood.

“This is the most solemn wedding party I’ve ever seen,” he said. “Let’s get that whiskey flowing. My only daughter is married, and our war has been laid to rest. Sounds like two very good reasons to celebrate.”

We spilled out of that Church meeting room, eager to escape each other.

Just because the territory dispute had been settled, and technically our clubs were allies now, didn’t mean anyone had to actually be friendly. Especially with the history between the two clubs still bristling with animosity.

When sunrise began to color the sky with a rosy peach hue, I stifled a yawn.

“Cajun, Torch,” Dad barked. “Fetch Leigh’s belongings.”

As Cajun and Torch headed for the door as instructed, Blackbeard held up a hand.

“She’s not staying here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dad replied. “She’s your wife. She’ll live under your roof with you, of course.”

“Shit,” Blackbeard hissed under his breath. He darted a glance at me.

Ever since we filed out of Church, Blackbeard hadn’t taken a seat. He remained on his feet, restlessly moving around behind the bar to pour drinks, or hovering near the television with a few other bikers, zoned out to a football game.

I made myself comfortable at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. The stool to my right was empty, but Blackbeard didn’t take it.

Cajun and Torch returned, dropping a duffle bag and two suitcases inside the door. Just the basics I’d need for the first few months of marriage. I’d had it packed and ready to go for this moment.

By the end of the year, I planned to be free of my husband, and the Blackjacks would be nothing more than a bad memory.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I teased lightly. “Don’t tell me that you want to back out of our agreement already. I promise, I’ll be quiet as a mouse. You won’t even notice I’m there.”

Blackbeard wrenched his gaze away from the bags and settled on me. I raised my glass in a silent toast, challenging him to argue. Or to find a loophole that didn’t seem like he would be shirking our marriage.

He blew out a heavy breath.

“Fine.”

Blackbeard tossed back the last of his whiskey, swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp. He set his glass on a nearby table and gestured at the door.

“I’m sure I have a spare mattress in the garage you can use,” he said.

I clucked my tongue with disapproval and turned to look at Dad. He shook his head.

“Remember the terms of our agreement, brother. If you don’t treat my daughter right and provide for her properly, the contract will be terminated.”

Blackbeard clenched his jaw.

“Is this how it’s going to be? Every time I say something you don’t like, you run off to Daddy and he bullies me into doing your bidding?”

I shrugged and smirked as I sipped my whiskey, watching him over the rim of my glass.

“Sounds about right."

He pressed his lips into a thin line of annoyance.

“That’s the perk of having a father-in-law, brother,” Dad quipped.

“Don’t call me that. You’re a Forsaken and I’m a Blackjack. We’re not brothers.”

“We share the same territory now,” Dad protested, spreading his arms wide.

“Still doesn’t make us brothers.”

Dad paused with a knowing smile, his eyes glittering with malice. I knew that look. He was about to hit where it hurt.

“Would you prefer I call you son instead? Since you are my son-in-law.”

Bingo.

Blackbeard’s nostrils flared and he marched past me to the door. Yanking it open, he hoisted my luggage into his arms and stormed out.

I drained the last of my whiskey and set my glass on the bar.

“Looks like my husband is ready to go,” I said, patting Dad’s hand. “I’ll see you later.”

“Call me if he acts up, sweetie. I’ll set him straight.”

By the time I emerged into the parking lot, Blackbeard dumped my suitcases and duffle bag next to my Jeep. Then he headed for his bike—an Indian Scout that gleamed like melted chocolate in the light of the rising sun.

Behind me, the door of the clubhouse opened. I glanced back to see Torch, Scratch, and Cue Ball, heading for their bikes as they nodded in my direction. Dad probably sent them to keep an eye on me, to make sure that I arrived safely at Blackbeard’s place.

Blackbeard cast a quick look at them, then started his bike with a growling roar of his engine.

“Aren’t you going to invite me to ride with you?” I called, practically shouting to be heard over his bike. “It’s our wedding day.”

He met my gaze and arched an eyebrow. I wasn’t fooling him. This marriage didn’t come with a happily ever after. If I intended to get under Blackbeard’s skin and turn him against his club, I had my work cut out for me.