Page 3

VIRUS

The guys were hanging out in the rec area when Hook came through the office door looking for Santa.

“What’s up?”

“Squatch says to tell you that chick from the diner just pulled up. The camera feed must be fucked because when she got out of the car, dayum, she’s too hot for you, old man.”

laughed at the same time Santa dropped the pool cue and rubbed his hands together.

“What would your ol’ lady say about you checking out women through the security cameras?” Outlaw asked Hook.

“My ol’ lady knows I only have eyes for her, besides, she’d be the first to point out a pretty lady. I just don’t understand what they all see in him.” Hook nodded toward Santa, who was making his way to the office.

“I’ve been telling you boys I’ve got more game in my little finger than any damn one of you got in your whole body. And for the last fucking time, I’m not that damn old.”

“I gotta see this.” Vice dropped his pool cue on the felt too and followed Santa out.

With the men in the office, the rec area was eerily silent. If he were in a scary movie, that would’ve been the moment before the jump scare.

There was no smack of pool balls, no raucous laughter, no sounds of sex. Their club had really changed over the last few years, especially since the president and enforcer got domesticated and Croon’s sister had taken up residence.

Now when it was loud, most days included ol’ ladies chatting and a kid’s laughter. They even had a schedule. Yep, an MC with a fucking schedule of when the club girls could be out and about scantily clad and the men could do whatever they fucking wanted in their own common areas.

It irritated to no end, not because of the obvious reason, but because it made him think about Rae. He wasn’t ashamed of his club or his lifestyle, but he’d definitely want a schedule in place if she were around. Watching Santa getting blown wasn’t something anyone should have to witness.

smiled in spite of himself. Instead of remembering the last time he saw her with tears streaming down her face, the last time he’d told her he loved her came to mind.

It had been a great night in the bed of his truck. They’d made love under the stars, and it had felt perfect. With both their bodies spent, he held her close and sleepily whispered words of love as she drifted asleep in his arms. If he’d had known then that would be the last time they’d share those words, he would’ve said them louder, more decisively. Shouted them until she was deaf.

Those three syllables hadn’t crossed his lips since. That was another thing he felt was only for her. Rae still owned his heart … and she always would.

“Right this way.”

He heard Santa say from behind him. He leaned further over the coffee table, typing on his computer, tuning Santa out. He had no interest in seeing Santa’s latest conquest or whatever else was going on. But another voice was the next to pierce his brain.

“Um, Darrin.”

froze. It had to be all in his head. It had to be. There was no way Rae was there. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her voice; however, it was the first time he’d heard it normal and not laced with tears. Not to mention the first time stone-cold sober.

After waiting for another second or two, she didn’t speak again. Satisfied it was all in his head, he began to type again. Someone reached over his shoulder and slapped his laptop closed.

“What the hell?” He jumped up from the sofa.

“Show some respect. The lady was speaking to you.”

When he turned around, his world came to a crashing halt. It was so abrupt he damn near swayed on his feet.

Rae stood there looking as beautiful as he remembered. Curvy and delicious. Her soulful blue eyes watched him with a mix of emotions that were hard to sort through. He didn’t know what to say. A million things swarmed him all at once, but he dismissed them all as inadequate.

“You changed your hair.”

Of all the things he could’ve … should’ve said, that wasn’t even top one hundred. The fact she had added purple to her blonde hair and undercut the sides with designs shouldn’t even matter. What mattered was, she was there, in front of him.

She’d finally come back.

He remembered a friend telling him that old saying about if you love something, set it free. He’d done just that, for her, not for himself, but she came back. That meant she was his.

His to cherish and love.

leaped over the back of the couch to be in her orbit. She smelled the same as he remembered, soft musk perfume and coconut shampoo. A smile crossed his lips unbidden.

It was really her. She was real, not a dream.

reached up to brush a lock of hair from her face and stopped when she gasped so hard he felt the intake of air on his wrist. His hand froze and he followed her gaze. It had landed on his wrist and the bracelet she’d made him.

It was unclear if she was impressed or appalled, so he pulled his hand back and shoved it in his jean pocket.

For good measure, he did the same with the other one so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach for her again. If he did manage to wrap her in his arms, he didn’t know what he’d do then. What he did know was he would never be able to let go.

“I like it … your hair, I mean.”

He sounded like an idiot. He’d broken her heart, and she finally stood in front of him after all that time, and he said something about her hair.

He should be apologizing and begging … groveling, not commenting on her fucking hair.

His ray of sunshine tilted her head to the side and down while tucking her hair behind her ear. It was a habit he recognized all too well.

It reminded him of how she used to react when he told her how stunning she was. The motion drew attention to a facial piercing she didn’t have before, above her lip. His Rae had changed, become more edgy and less innocent. He liked it … a lot.

“Yeah, well … it’s been a while and a lot of things have changed.” She raised her chin and looked around, then scrutinized him. Up and down, she raked him with her gaze, lingering on his cut, more specifically his patches. “For both of us, it seems.” She sounded matter of fact, not angry or judgmental. That was a good sign.

It was all he could do not to ask her what she was doing there and if there was a snowball’s chance in hell for them after everything. Instead, he offered her a seat and a drink.

Motioning with his fingers, a prospect brought a bottle and two glasses, setting them on the coffee table and leaving without another word. Fucker might get his patch soon after all. Knowing when to stay silent and make yourself scarce was a skill that would serve whatshisname well.

She accepted the seat but rejected the drink. He however, couldn’t. He was shaking like a virgin on prom night. poured a full fucking glass and downed it all at once. One wasn’t enough, so he did the same thing two more times while Rae just sat watching him nervously and glancing around the clubhouse.

He could always tell exactly what she was feeling. She had the most expressive face known to man. If she didn’t like you, you’d damn sure know it.

That thought had him kicking himself. He should’ve known the shit he was told about her was bullshit, but no use rehashing past thoughts when Rae sat right in front of him.

“Rae.” He spoke her name softly, like an invocation.

“Alaine. You lost the right to call me …” Her discomfort was rising, he could hear it. She took a deep breath, drawing his gaze to her chest. He loved every inch of her body and with her sitting in front of him, he remembered what her skin tasted like, for fuck’s sake.

When she spoke again, all traces of her discomfort were suppressed.

“Sorry, what name you call me doesn’t matter. We have some very important things to discuss.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from some of the guys pretending to shoot pool and socialize. They must’ve snuck in behind Rae. Hell, the entire 1 st Division could’ve followed her in and he wouldn’t have noticed—he only had eyes for her. He slammed another drink.

She was really fucking there.

Rae—he’d be damned if he’d think of her as Ailene—noticed too and turned in their direction. Santa gave her a knowing smile and that raised ’s hackles.

“Can we have a little privacy, Darrin?”

Her voice wavered faintly, and she looked slightly panicked. He didn’t have a clue what was going on until he made the connection in his brain between what Hook had said earlier and Santa.

He stood abruptly with his fist balled and shouted.

“You were hitting on my woman, old man?”

Rae slapped a folder down on the coffee table and stood across from him, blocking his view of a smirking Santa.

“I’m not your anything anymore.”

Her voice sliced his heart to ribbons.

There was no shouting on her part or anger, just an old wound that still wasn’t scabbed over. A wound he’d given her. That thought deflated him and he sank back down on the sofa and downed more glasses of scotch. He wasn’t even sure how many, but he was definitely starting to feel it.

“Do you guys mind giving us a minute?” He was knocked out and he never even stepped in the ring. Rae wasn’t there to reconcile, and that made him reach straight for the bottle and bypass the glass.

Rae sat back down too. All but his Prez and vice left the common area. Wall Street raised his beer to her as he passed, and she gave a grin. A fucking grin, like they had an inside joke. But when she turned her attention back to him, all traces of the smile were gone.

“He’s the Monty Python fan,” she mumbled to herself. While he heard the words not intended for him, he didn’t have a clue what they meant. Rae had always been obsessed with Monty Python.

Before Santa retreated, Outlaw whispered something to Zombie and his eyes widened and landed on Rae, and then him before he nodded. Zombie said something to Santa and he scurried off.

Within seconds, Squatch and Hook returned but hung back with his Prez.

The three of them lingered by the pool table, while Outlaw stepped closer and parked his ass on a barstool within earshot. Had it been another member he would’ve protested, but since it was his vice, he zipped his lips.

His attention pulled away from the eavesdropper. “Sorry, that’s about as private as it’s gonna get.”

He couldn’t stop drinking her in. She was even more captivating than she was in his memories. His hands itched to touch her.

Finally, Rae’s sweet voice broke the stare down.

“Do you always drink like this?” she inquired in a soft tone. More concern than judgment laced her words.

“Only when I think of you.” He took another swig. “So, yeah. I guess so.” It wasn’t all true. He didn’t drink all day and night, just when the pain got to be too much.

“Anyway, I have some things to tell you, and they are going to come as a shock.”

He could’ve sworn she mumbled something about her too, but he wasn’t sure. The combination of seeing Rae and fine single malt had his head swimming.

She reached for the folder and Outlaw came into their little tête-à-tête.

“Alaine? Hi, we met briefly in the office, but I saw you … at the diner earlier.” He halted as if he almost said something else but pulled back. “Do you mind if I join you? I may be of some help to Darrin. I’m an attorney.”

It took ’s brain a while to sort through the scene. Outlaw had called him by his birth name and announced he was a lawyer. Not to mention when he’d done so, Rae looked relieved.

“Yes, um, Outlaw,” she agreed. “Please.”

She even sounded relieved too.

“You can call me Brad if you prefer.”

Whoa. How much scotch had he had? Brad?

“What the fuck is going on?” He could tell he was starting to talk in cursive already. Fuck. He needed— wanted —a clear head for however much time he had with her. But it was too late, that ship had sailed and probably hit a fucking iceberg already.

Rae pulled some squares from the folder and extended them toward him. set his drink down and took them.

“There is no delicate way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it.” She took a heavy breath. “You have a son.”

’s gaze landed on the first picture and it was like looking into a mirror, just one that was decades in the past. He could tell Rae had taken the picture. He didn’t know how, he just could.

Wait.

He was looking at his child.

Her words penetrated the alcohol fog. “I have a son?” He spoke with wonder.

He shared a son with the woman he loved. It was like a dream.

“His name is Adam, and he’s absolutely adorable. My?—”

No, not a dream.

exploded to his feet. “I had a son and you kept him from me?” All he could see was red.

“I—” Rae spoke, but he cut her off.

“How could you? I know I hurt you back then, but keeping my child a secret? That’s a hell of a way to get back at me.”

Rae shrank back as if he’d punched her in the face. He knew his words hurt her, but he couldn’t stop them. They were out of his mouth before he had a moment for his brain to catch up.

It wasn’t her he wanted to hurt; it was himself. Since no one could hurt him like she could, she’d just became collateral damage in his bid to punish himself.

Hook and Squatch approached, one stood next to Rae’s chair, and the other took up residence at his side, opposite of Outlaw.

Of course that’s why the biggest motherfuckers in the club stayed—muscle. He would never hit a woman, especially Rae. Why would they think such a thing?

As he posed the question to himself, he knew the answer. It was in his posturing against her and clenched jaw and balled fists.

“, calm down and let her talk,” Outlaw reasoned.

Rae stood and raised her chin in that defiant way that was familiar to him as the back of his own hand. Now she would let him have it. The pain he deserved was coming, but not in the way he expected.

“Is that really what you think of me, Darrin? That I would get back at you by using a child, your child, to do it?”

The hurt in her eyes, in her tone, was palpable. He would give anything to rip those words back and swallow them, but he couldn’t.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was his own shame that had the hateful words falling from his lips. He wanted to scream, no, that’s not what I think, I love you, and let her explain, but the part of him that’d missed years with his son wouldn’t let him.

The beastly part of him he’d been growing since they parted ways didn’t do logic. It didn’t know what did about Rae; it ran on pure animal instinct. knew better. Somewhere that was being suppressed by hurt and anger, he knew there had to be an explanation. His Rae would never do something like that without a damn good reason.

But it wasn’t in control of his mouth at the moment.

“Wasn’t it you who always said revenge is a dish best served cold? Well, I’d say damn near seven years is pretty fucking cold.”

“, I advise you to sit down and shut the fuck up.” Vice yanked at his arm, but he didn’t budge.

He saw the minute the flames of anger rose in her perfect blue eyes. He both hated and loved it. It told him he’d really screwed the pooch this time, but it also meant that when she’d walked in that door, she’d still loved him, or he couldn’t have gotten under her skin.

Loved—past tense. She might’ve been able to forgive him for the past, but she wouldn’t forgive him for the present.

Fuuuuuck. He was falling right back into their old ways toward the end. The constant suspicion and hurt. The back-and-forth accusations and mistrust.

If the look in her eyes were any indication, well, he’d dragged her right back there to that painful place too.

His anger fled in an instant. She didn’t deserve more of the same from him, but he’d already wound her up. There was nothing but to let her go then—and go she did.

“I see your nickname suits you. .” She nodded down at his name patch. “I get it now. That’s exactly what you are, Darrin, a virus. You infect everyone you come in contact with. Making them sick and contagious. Lucky for me, I’m immune to you. I already caught that particular strain once and it damn near killed me. It’ll be a cold day in hell before you get a chance to infect me again.”

Even though he’d purposely provoked her and deserved every word, they still flayed him alive, but he was lost in her eyes. The pain there was crippling to him. He wanted to kick his own ass and rip out his tongue.

He wished she was immune to him, oh how he wished she was. Seeing her hurt like that killed him, knowing he’d done it, annihilated every cell in his body.

Yep, repeating their last few months together in his memory over the years wasn’t enough. No, he had to play it out in live action.

He’d put them in this loop of pain years before by landing in another woman’s bed.

Actually, their troubles started months before he’d slept with another woman. He’d allowed someone else to guide his thoughts and write the narrative in his head. Plant seeds of suspicion.

Even though Rae had robbed him of years with his son, he still didn’t want to cause more hurt. He’d done enough of that, damn it.

He wanted to love her and spoil her, not fuck it all up again and again, but that seemed to be his factory default setting when it came to Rae. The harder he loved, the more he fucked up.

just stared at her, trying to figure out a way to put the past where it belonged, stop repeating the pain, but he was at a loss. She leafed through the folder and removed some papers.

“Rae. I’m?—”

She slapped the folder against his chest, cutting off his wholly inadequate apology.

“Here, look over this when you’re sober and have your lawyer call mine. After seeing your behavior today, I guess we will do this a different way because I don’t have it in me to do it the way I wanted to for Adam.”

With that, she turned to leave.

“Rae, please …” he trailed off. It was déjà vu. Rae leaving and him screaming after her. The situation may be similar, but he’d be damned if he would repeat his actions. As much as the heartbreak inside him wanted to lash out, he refused.

She’d just walked out of his life again, and he didn’t know what to do with that.

Someone took the folder from him, but still he stood, staring at the empty space in front of him she’d vacated. She had been close enough to kiss. Why didn’t he kiss her instead of insulting her?

was still standing when a voice called to him.

“Sit,” his vice ordered. When he complied, he realized the room had cleared except for Outlaw.

“What happened between you and her?”

“I fucked up our relationship, and she dumped me. I landed in another woman’s bed, and she got a front-row seat to that. So, she walked out of my life, was apparently pregnant, and hid it from me. The end.”

He had zero desire to air his dirty laundry in front of his brother. Sure, he could justify it, but to what end? The damage was done.

“Her sister?” Outlaw sounded appalled.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

Outlaw held out a piece of paper. snatched it and gave it a quick scan.

“FUCK!”

With his curse, Outlaw patted him on the back, set the folder on the table, and left. was alone with his thoughts. And those thoughts were like razor blades soaked in lemon juice slicing across his heart.