Page 24 of Inglorious (Unwanted Bastards MC #1)

Inglorious

I was feeling edgy, which was at odds with how I felt yesterday when I’d kissed Nanci.

She’d avoided me for the rest of the day, and whenever we’d briefly seen each other, she’d blushed and hurried away.

The fact that Nanci was now shy amused me to no end.

The Nanci I knew and cared about was a ball-buster.

I’d been planning to discuss this with Janet, but I kept fidgeting, unsettled about something.

“What’s wrong?” Janet asked. “You look uncomfortable.”

“I’ve a weird feeling, but I don’t know what.”

“How do you feel?”

“Sad. Anxious. Like something’s hanging over my head, and an axe is about to drop.”

“Has anything happened at Merritt?”

“No. The building and everything is going well. The club is settled, although still grieving. Nanci is performing the president’s duties,” I mused and racked my brains. Why was today affecting me so badly?

“Is this an anniversary or similar?” Janet asked, and I stiffened.

“Mouse’s birthday,” I whispered as a knife stabbed me in the heart. He’d have been forty.

“And you forgot?”

“Yeah, and I feel fuckin’ guilty now. Shit.”

“From what I remember, the club always celebrated birthdays.” “They were important. As president, I ensured nobody’s birthday was ever missed. Some of the brothers hated that, but Mouse loved celebrating. He enjoyed the cookout and big blowout we held to celebrate.”

“You were uneasy because you’d not remembered, but subconsciously knew you’d forgotten something,” Janet stated.

“Yeah. How the hell could I have forgotten?” I slumped down in the chair, resting my elbows on my knees and dropping my head into my hands. Memories of Mouse laughing and joking, a beer in hand, head tilted back, and a woman hanging off his arm, assaulted me.

Mouse had appreciated life and had lived it to the full. I was blessed to have known and loved him—and cursed that I ended his life.

“I killed Mouse,” I muttered, voice breaking.

“Inglorious?”

“They died because of my choices. Fuck, I murdered my brothers,” I said, and a sob escaped.

That seemed to loosen a knot in my chest that I didn’t even realise existed.

I’d not cried since I was a tiny boy, and now, I couldn’t stop.

A cry of sheer pain emerged, and a second sob broke free.

I kept my head in my hands as tears streamed down my face.

Sobs tore from me as I finally released the agony and guilt that I’d been experiencing.

Janet sat beside me, rubbing my back, as I wailed my grief and didn’t give a fuck who heard.

This had been building since the war, and now my emotions had found freedom.

There was no stopping the anguish from being released.

Perhaps I should have been ashamed, but I wasn’t, because this was genuine.

Whichever prick stated guys don’t cry was an asshole.

Men shouldn’t be frightened to show emotion. Jesus, we had feelings too.

Minutes ticked past as I allowed my rigid control to lapse. The whole time, Janet never spoke a word but rubbed my back and handed me tissues. She provided a warm and calming presence, and I felt safe and unjudged. Finally, the tears stopped.

“Guess you didn’t expect that today,” I muttered dryly.

“Nobody can ever predict what happens during therapy.”

“Is that the standard response, Doc?” I asked, and Janet laughed as she rose and moved to her seat again.

“No, that’s a Janet answer. Clients are human and can’t be predicted. Sure, behaviour could lead to certain types, but there is always that small percentage who will buck the trend,” Janet replied. “How are you feeling?”

“Right now? Empty but balanced. I didn’t know that was built up inside,” I admitted.

“You didn’t?” Janet asked.

“You knew?”

“Inglorious, you were deep in grief and also in denial. The liquor addiction helped bury your feelings, but didn’t deal with them.

Alcohol is no longer a barrier. That meant it was a mere matter of time before the dam burst. My concern is that you might feel raw and open for a while, which will increase the urge to drink. ”

“No, I’m done with that. I’ll not touch booze again because that leads the wrong way. I kissed Nanci,” I said, and Janet blinked.

“Okay, that was an abrupt change of subject, and I’m guessing that’s the rawness I explained you experience. Normally, I’d challenge you, but considering what just happened, I don’t think that is wise. So, Nanci, you kissed?”

“Yup, she’s mine.”

“Just like that?” Janet asked.

“No, I’ve desired Nanci for years, but because of…

Psych, I held back. I’m not making a move because Psych’s gone.

” That was hard to admit, and I swallowed.

“If Psych had been here, I’d have got the green light to make Nanci mine.

That makes me a little lost because I ain’t fuckin’ asking their parents for their blessings, cunts that they are. ”

“Psych didn’t get on with them?”

“Fuck no. And Nanci hates them too.” “Surely not having to ask permission and court a rejection makes it easier to date Nanci?”

“Yes and no. It brings home that Nanci has no one in the world, but also, I can be the support she needs.”

For the remainder of the hour, we continued to discuss my feelings about Nanci and how the past might affect future plans.

When the session ended, I was a little surprised.

I’d been through an emotional wringer today, and I desperately needed some riding time to clear the whirlwind of thoughts in my head.

Just as I reached out to open the door, Janet spoke. “Inglorious. Before you leave, there is a question I need to ask.”

“What?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how prevalent is suicide in your thoughts?”

The question actually shocked me, and I took a few moments to consider my answer.

“If you’d asked six months, hell, even six weeks ago, I’d have said high.

Until I got sober, I was wrapped in grief and guilt.

Those emotions remain, but I’m starting to heal and see a future.

Do I want to kill myself? No, Janet, I’d say the risk of suicide is negligible.

The thought might cross my mind that I’d be better off dead with my brothers, but I owe it to them to keep living. ”

The last few words stunned me.

I owed it to them to live.

Janet nodded. “Now, you understand.”

“Yeah. Their memories survive in me. If I die or hit the bottle again, their memory fades. Shit. I owe it to them to live the best life possible. Thanks, Doc.”

“Nope, this was all you. We still need to meet Inglorious, but I’m glad you’re finding your way,” Janet said and opened the door. She offered a warm smile as I left and headed down the stairs to my hog.

It was time to ride.

Nanci

Inglorious was overdue in returning from his appointment with Janet—over five hours late—and I was worried he’d hit a bar.

Just as I was considering sending Vortex and Hercules out to search, Inglorious roared up and parked.

Relief swamped me as Inglorious swung off his bike, and then I took a second glance.

Whenever anyone looked at Inglorious, you could see he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. As Inglorious stretched, showing a tantalising glimpse of a muscled stomach, I noticed he seemed lighter.

“Wow, what happened to him?” Hercules muttered.

“Does Inglorious seem—”

“Easier? Yes. Looks like Inglorious might have had a breakthrough in therapy,” Hercules replied.

To my surprise, Inglorious tilted his head towards us but wandered away in the construction’s direction.

“What’s he up to?” I wondered and took off after him. Hercules snorted from behind me, and I ignored him. Inglorious disappeared into one of the old shops, and I hightailed it inside.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, a strong embrace swept me up and pinned me against the wall.

“Hello, baby,” Inglorious muttered as his head descended and his lips claimed mine.

Instinctively, I moulded myself to his body as Inglorious hauled me closer and held me tighter. My arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss deepened, sending familiar shivers down my spine. Heat pooled between my legs as Inglorious showed he meant business with this kiss.

This one was slightly different from the last. This one seemed claiming, and I lost myself in sensation as Inglorious made a satisfied noise. He broke the kiss and trailed feather-light ones down the side of my throat.

I gasped and shivered in response. My nipples hardened, and my entire body responded to Inglorious’s attentions.

“Inglorious,” I murmured as he moved a little, and his hands held my waist. Deftly, Inglorious popped the buttons on my jeans and slipped a hand inside. My legs opened of their own accord as a finger slid down my panties and found my clit. I moaned as he flicked it, and the wetness intensified.

“You don’t know how much I want to taste you,” Inglorious muttered as he began moving his finger as my nub tightened.

“Make me cum,” I ordered as my breathing quickened.

For a split second, an emotion I couldn’t identify crossed Inglorious’s face, before he swooped and reclaimed my mouth. His finger increased in speed and pressure, and my orgasm built. I tore my mouth free as I cried out my release and clenched my legs around his hand.

Seconds ticked past as I rode the waves of pleasure until I collapsed against him like a wet rag. Inglorious removed his hand and, holding my eyes, licked his finger clean.

“You taste amazing. Baby, I can’t wait to bury my head in your pussy,” he murmured.

“What are we doing?” I asked, dazed.

“Me? Claiming you, making you mine. But it will be a slow process, babe, because you need to understand you can trust me. Make no mistake, Nanci, you’re mine.”

I stared mutely, unsure how to answer, and Inglorious smiled smugly and kissed me again before sauntering off.

“That was just a taster of what’s waiting,” he called out as I straightened myself. His ass disappeared through the doors, and I cursed. That smug bastard!

Inglorious