Page 30 of Gonzo’s Grudge (Saint’s Outlaws MC: Dreadnought, NC #1)
IvaLeigh
I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the rim of my coffee cup like the answers might appear in the dark liquid if I just stared long enough.
Mom moved around the kitchen in that quiet, efficient way she had always done, buttering toast and sliding it onto a plate I hadn’t asked for but she knew I needed.
It was late morning, sunlight spilling through the lace curtains, catching dust motes that danced like they didn’t know the world had fallen apart.
My father had gone into the study early, phone pressed to his ear, voice pitched low.
I hadn’t spoken to him since the dinner where he confessed everything days ago.
Mom set the plate down in front of me and sat across from me with her own cup of tea. She looked tired, but not weak. Tired in the way of someone who had carried too much for too long.
“You’ve been quiet,” she acknowledged gently.
I pushed the toast around the plate. “Just thinking.”
“About him?” she asked, too knowing for me to dodge.
I looked up, startled. She didn’t flinch.
“Mom—”
“I’ve seen the way you look when you think about him,” she shared. “Your eyes light up, even when your world is heavy. I’m your mother. I know.”
Heat crept up my neck. I dropped my gaze to the table. “It’s crazy. We don’t fit.”
She reached across, brushed her fingers over mine. “Honey, love always looks crazy from the outside.”
I swallowed hard, words tangling in my throat.
“He’s not like anyone I’ve ever known. He’s rough and hard and sometimes terrifying, but—” I broke off, pressing my palms to my eyes.
“But I feel safe with him. Like the kind of safe that isn’t about locked doors or clean streets.
It’s about knowing someone would bleed before they let you get hurt. ”
Mom was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, thoughtful. “To love a man with that kind of intensity takes a strong woman. Stronger than most. Because you have to meet fire with fire, not smother it or run from it. But you also have to know what you’re stepping into.”
I dropped my hands and looked at her. Her eyes were soft, but there was steel under them.
“You mean Dad,” I replied quietly.
She sighed. “Your father loved me in his way. But it was a love laced with secrets. Secrets that destroyed, little by little, until I didn’t recognize the man I’d married anymore. You can survive a lot in a marriage, but secrets are poison. They seep into everything.”
Her gaze sharpened, pinned me. “Whatever else Gonzo is, he’s honest. Even when it hurts. Even when it’s the last thing you want to hear. That kind of love isn’t easy. It will scar you, bruise you, push you to your limits. But it won’t rot you from the inside out like secrets do.”
My throat tightened. “So you think I’m not crazy?”
She smiled faintly. “Oh, you’re crazy. But you’re also braver than I was at your age. And braver than I am now.” She squeezed my hand. “If you’re going to love him, do it with your eyes open. No agenda. No illusions. And no secrets.”
I nodded, heart pounding. “No secrets.”
The toast sat untouched. I stood, grabbed my keys, and kissed her cheek. “I need to see him.”
She didn’t try to stop me. She just whispered, “Go.”
The road to Gonzo’s cabin felt shorter than it should have. My hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, thoughts racing ahead of me. Every curve of the road carried me closer to a choice I couldn’t unmake.
When I pulled up, his bike was out front, gleaming in the afternoon sun like it was waiting for me. My chest tightened at the sight. I cut the engine, sat for a moment, and drew in a shaky breath.
Then I got out.
The cabin door opened before I reached it. He stood there, broad and solid, cut slung over his shoulders like it’s part of him because it was, eyes locked on me like he’d been expecting me all along.
“IvaLeigh,” he said, low and rough, like gravel dragged over steel.
“Gabriel,” I answered, my voice steadier than I felt.
He stepped back, letting me in. The cabin smelled like leather, smoke, and him. It felt smaller than it had the first time I was here, maybe because my heart was taking up so much space in my chest.
I turned to face him, words tumbling out before I could second-guess them. “If this is going to work, it has to be real. No agenda. No secrets. And I don’t share.”
His brows lifted, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t share, huh?”
I folded my arms, chin high. “Not with Shay, not with anyone. If I’m in this, it’s you and me. That’s it.”
He stepped closer, heat rolling off him, eyes dark. “What about our ages? My son is older than you.”
I met his gaze without flinching. “Well, you keep up better than any man my age. So I don’t see a problem.”
His smirk widened, slow and dangerous. “You sure about that?”
“As long as this works, I want it to work,” I said, voice fierce. “And when it doesn’t work for either of us anymore, then we walk away. But we do it honestly and completely.”
The smirk faded. His eyes burned into me, intense, unflinching. “I’ll never walk away.”
My breath caught.
He stepped so close I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. His voice dropped, steady as a vow. “I’ll give you my world, but you gotta know—it’s for life.”
I swallowed hard, heart hammering. Everything with him was so intense. But nothing in life ever felt right until he came into my world. Then I nodded. “For life.”
For a beat, silence stretched between us, heavy with the weight of the promise we’d just made.
Then he scooped me up like I weighed nothing, his mouth crashing onto mine, kissing me senseless.
The world fell away. The lies, the pain, the distance—all of it burned to ash in that kiss. All that remained was the fire between us, fierce and consuming, a fire I didn’t want to escape.
And for the first time, I didn’t feel crazy for wanting him. I just felt alive.