Page 20 of Property of Brute & Axl
“It could help my memory, though.” That seems to make them more agreeable.
“We’ll send the prospects ahead, see if they can’t sniff out any trouble,” Brute finally relents. “Any danger, and we’ll be turning right around. That clear?”
“Deal.” For the first time since waking up in the hospital, a genuine smile crosses my face. Feeling brave, I grab Brute’s vest and pull him in close. “Thank you,” I say and lean up, Axl’s hands lifting me high enough to wrap one arm around Brute’s neck and plant a kiss on his lips.
He doesn’t hesitate to remove me from the bike, wrap my legs around his waist, and deepen the kiss until we’re breathless. Moaning into his mouth, I hold him tighter as Axl comes up from behind to bear some of my weight.
When I feel a solid kick in my belly, I pull away, gasping. My stunned stare meets Brute’s before he gazes down at my belly. “That’s got to be a boy,” he mutters, seemingly as amazed as I am, as his hand rests where we felt the movement.
“Strong?” Axl mutters, glancing down over my shoulder and placing his hand on my stomach too.
“Very.” Closing my eyes, the movement increases, and I realize that no matter how I felt before the attack, and no matter what happens in the future, I’m keeping this baby. I want him or her.
“God damn.” You can hear Axl’s grin in his voice as his fingers dance across my belly. “He’ll make a good addition to the club when he’s older.”
“President or enforcer,” Brute interjects.
Hearing the guys make plans for this baby isn’t what I anticipated when this moment occurred, but I couldn’t be happier. There’s so much yet to learn about their lives, about myself, but this feels right.
“Fire’s going!” someone yells.
Picked up and placed on my feet, my eyes open to find the two of them standing in front of me. “To be clear,” Brute states, “memory returning or not, this is where you belong.” I blink and flick my eyes between them, gauging their feelings.
“And if I don’t want to stay?” The need to know what I mean to them thumps viciously in my chest.
“I’m not afraid of kidnapping.” Brute lifts his chin in challenge as Axl stares at him.
“Could tie her to the bed, edge her until she promises to stay,” Axl suggests.
“Now wait a minute…” They ignore my protests and continue to plot ways to keep me here.
It’s kind of endearing and sweet, but I’d love it more and would be less argumentative if they simply said, we want you here. Nonetheless, they’re not the kind of emotionally aware men I’ve been used to in the past. Actions mean more than words, and I’ll have to adjust my expectations.
Wait…what?
Was that a memory? A pseudo one at least? Being used to emotionally available men… How do I know that if I don’t remember them?
Sitting between the two men who have turned my life topsy-turvy, I stare into the heated flames of the fire as more people join us. Warm palms on each of my thighs keep me grounded as I lose myself in the fire’s flickering colors.
It wasn’t a memory but more of a feeling. A powerful one that makes me wonder if someone is waiting for me at home. In that exact moment, I toss the thought away because if I did, they’d have come for me.
For nearly a week after being found, my face was on the news and in the papers across the entire state. Brute and Axl had no issue claiming me, and from all I’ve discovered, we hardly knew each other.
A one weekend stand.
By my own choice, according to them. I’m the one who walked away and left a thank-you note; yet, I meant enough to them that they’re the only ones who showed up for me.
“My family must suck,” I mutter, dropping back into my seat.
Everything aches, and my ribs are on fire, but none of it matters because I’m finally emerging from this fog and realizing how little I mattered to anyone in my previous life.
“Your father is a rich man,” Brute tells me. “All about appearances.” Turning my head, I study his face for more clues. “He’s an art broker, makes millions a year.”
“You’re an heiress.” Axl’s shocking words sit me straight up.
“A what?” I did hear him and understand, but…? “How is that possible when they never came to the hospital?” Surely, they’re wrong.
“The media broadcasts were suppressed, according to the detective on your case. Easy hacked his way into the phone records of the more popular stations and discovered a cover-up. One of the employees finally broke their silence today.” Brute’s clearly pissed.